Michael’s Still Alive

Posted by dwallace on June 25, 2010 in Douglas Thomas Wallace, Uncategorized |

Today marks the one year anniversary of Michael Jackson’s death. Everyone is affected differently by celebrity’s deaths. For some, it’s the worst day of their life, their hero is dead. For others, they could care less if a celebrity dies. I fall in the later crowd over Michael Jackson’s death.

It’s not that I didn’t think Michael Jackson was a good artist. I loved him as a child. Beat It, Billy Jean and Thriller were three of my all time favorite songs when I was ten years old. But once I got a little older, I’m Bad, Black or White and Man In The Mirror, just didn’t cut it for me. It wasn’t that I disliked Michael, I just didn’t care for his music. It wasn’t until the first child-sex scandal broke that I stopped liking him. And then the second child-sex story broke, that’s when I started to despise him.

I know, I know, he was never convicted. Yes, I’m pre-judging him. I don’t care what anyone else thinks, this is my blog and I think something is wrong when a grown man invites little boys over to play at his “Never Land Ranch,” which just happens to have all the things that little boys love like carnival rides, go carts and junk food. The only thing that’s missing is naked ladies. ”I don’t have any naked ladies but I got this,” he probably said pointing down to his multi-colored penis. Fuck that—he’s dead and I don’t care.

What I do find interesting is that now that Jackson’s dead, experts are claiming that his estate is worth approximately $1 billion dollars. I think this is weird because he hardly had any money left before he died and now that he’s dead, and can’t be a liability, Sony is paying the Jackson estate $250 million dollars for 10 recordings through 2017. So now we have to listen to this dead child molester for the next seven years. Maybe he should have Beat It himself and been his own Thriller, then he could have looked at the Man In the Mirror and wouldn’t had to say, I’m Bad, I’m Bad, you know it. Yeah, Michael, You’re Bad, we know it.


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