Six months from now most of the nation won't remember that Farrah Fawcett and Ed McMahon are dead.
... because another well-known celebrity died yesterday and sucked all the air out of the room yesterday.
In my charitable moments I can give the three-ring, freak show called "MJ" some compassion; his childhood was no doubt hellish what with a brutish and iron-fisted father and a very passive mother. The children's abuse is well-documented:
From a young age Jackson was physically emotionally abused by his father enduring incessant rehearsals, whippings and name-calling. Jackson's abuse as a child affected him throughout his grown life.
Michael's hatred of his father is the root cause of his near life-long effort to surgically remove from his own visage the features of a big, sexually mature black man. There was no more profound rejection of his abusive father than turning himself into a slight, white, asexual boy with a soft, falsetto voice... the absolute anathema of Joe Jackson; and to the point of disfigurement.
An excuse for his later behavior? No... just an explanation.
Jackson, like The Grateful Dead, ruled over a very narrow slice of popular music which had no competitors; he and they were successful because no one the planet but they could perform their music.
He was an entertainer who followed Alice Copper's observation on performing: "For his 10 bucks a kid going to a concert deserves more than just some guys with guitars."
He was Sammy Davis Jr. on steroids and probably was only happy when performing.... no past, no future, no father, only the adoration he never received from his childhood.
But at some point, the cheering always stopped.
Jackson was also intelligent and while no attorney or CPA, he kept his empire together for a very long time, until with his maturity his sexual nature, long repressed, fought it's way to the surface. Jackson was also smart enough to invent the "harmless man-child" personal that the media, his fans, perhaps even his family members, bought into and spouted as gospel.
The "Neverland Valley Ranch", the toys, the zoo, were all covers for the rather passive pedophile which enabled him to talk disgusting mothers and fathers into turning over their children to him for his infamous "sleep overs". They pimped out their own kids so they could tell their friends they were "friends with Michael Jackson".
Each and everyone of them should have been arrested and their children taken from them.
His front page acquittal on sexual abuse charges a couple of years ago is all the news media (especially Jerry Rivers (aka Geraldo Herrera) chooses to report on his sexual lifestyle. And not much will be mentioned of the $20 million paid off to a family in exchange for their refusal to testify against him in criminal court on charges he molested their son.
Two more pimps. Twenty-million dollar pimps.
There would not be a Michael Jackson on stage, or the MJ with little boys constantly sitting on his lap if it wasn't for an immoral society that demands nothing and gives all to the most inconsequential segment of the populace... entertainers.
Other than Jackson himself, and his parents, the so called black community must bear great responsibility for allowing the singer (and O.J. Simpson) to get away with all he did.
It's the same with black folk.... murderer, pedophile, insane, incompetent, criminal, liar, cheat or thug. It doesn't matter who or what or how they are.... above all, they are black and that's all that required to be tolerated or even revered.
Two words: Mike Tyson.
Think about that.... this extended even to Jackson; yet I'm blacker than he was. He was worked very hard to be intentional non-black, but blacks require nothing more than the color (or former color) of ones skin to form their philosophy. How else to you explain that upwards of 95% of black voters cast ballots for Obama... even those on military active duty.
Group think. Lemmings. Dangerous.
(This just in: the only evidence required for me above observation: four black members of the House of Representatives asked for and received a moment of silence for Jackson on the House floor.)
I digress. Michael Jackson's death a tragic loss....? Yes--for those who made a living off him, for white businessmen, his family (I suppose), for his mindless, sycophantic worshipers?... so they will say.
As with Elvis Presley who invented the entertainer-out-of-control freak show bit, Jackson's death at 50 (eight years older than "The King") is just a blessing for a tormented soul.
His passing means little in the end, except that his pain is over and many more children won't have bad dreams.
But then I never understood all the overwrought boo-hooing about Princess Di.
Ed McMahon -- March 6, 1923 – June 23, 2009
It was signed, "Col. Ed McMahon, USMC-ret."
McMahon volunteered during WWII and trained as a fighter pilot, but was never overseas. In the 1950s, McMahon was recalled to duty for Korea. There, he got his hours in the F-9 Panther, and flew 85 combat missions as an artillery spotter in the Cessna OE Bird Dog.
Not an enviable job.
McMahon re-invented the "second-banana" role in show business and as Johnny Carson's side-kick, they changed the definition of late night television entertainment and it's safe to say that over their 30 years together on the Tonight Show they were "beloved" by two generations of viewers and fans.
In his later years Ed fell on hard times and it was difficult to see him struggle... but that's only money and possessions. He'll be remember and apparently justifiably so, as a good guy.
"Hi-oh" Ed, and Good Night.
Farrah Fawcett -- February 2, 1947 – June 25, 2009
If there was ever a quintessential American Girl for my generation, it had to be Farrah... hell, she was even from Texas.
It was easy to dismiss her because of the poster (still the largest-selling of all time with 12 million copies) and the fluff that was "Charlie's Angles", but in time she became a solid actress with several good roles before her career ran out and her own personal demons came to rule her life.
In the end she had a real dignity, fighting an absolutely horrible form of cancer for three years before passing on a few days ago.
Hell, I'm still in love with Veronica Lake who in my mind's eye remains as alluring, mysterious and smolderingly sexy as she was when I first saw The Blue Dahlia.
In fact, their careers were somewhat parallel and it always reminds me that despite great beauty and perhaps because of it, some will suffer greatly.
Still, when I see Farrah's photos from those days, for a while I feel younger and remember a simpler time when good health was a given and the party went on forever.