Must Be A Generational Thing

Michael Jackson has died. A pretty hard-to-miss event, like a big old media bomb going off in one’s face. It was an explosion of rhinestone white-gloves worn in mourning, Billy Jean and Thriller medleys and Moonwalking backup dancers, with nary a mention of the paedo-bear he was.

It must be a generational thing, ‘cos I was completely unmoved. I was to young for full fledged Wacko Jacko mania, and the later releases of “Bad” and “Black and White” were not nearly as epic or groundbreaking as his earlier work. Instead the death that marked my generation was Kurt Cobain. Now his was a death that meant something, even if it was best expressed as a giant looming question mark. (Have you ever actually listened to the Lyrics of “Smells Like Teen Spirit”? Anthem of a generation my ass, there’s no epic message there, just some damn good rocking beats)

It’s probably because of this slight generation gap that I won’t remember Michael Jackson for the music. His “Black and White” music video release was over-hyped and caused about as much stirring in the playground as the equally over-hyped “Michael Jordan Vs Godzilla” campaign. And the song I will always remember him most for is “Happy Birthday Lisa” on the Simpsons (fun fact – though that was Michael Jackson’s voice in that episode, he insisted on the Alias “John Jay Smith” while Kipp Lennon was the one to actually sing the song itself).

No, instead there’ll be enduring memories of scandal, images of courtroom drama, dalliances with child stars such as Macaulay Culkin that always and inevitably turned sour, and long slide towards destitution. These are not the kind of things that get included in “Best of” specials or memorial magazine printings.

So for all the hyperbole of “Where were you when you heard?” and attempts by the mass media to spin-doctor this as an event on par with the Moon Landing, Death of Elvis, or 9/11, I say to you Bah, double Bah! What I want is a moment at his memorial where in front of the million Americans who scrambled for tickets, paedo-bear gets up and begins his speech “I’ll always remember when . . . “

And if you want to know how I found out the news, well it was not from some smutty little internet gossip site but rather someone SMSed me a joke – “Michael Jackson is dead and is going to be melted down for plastic and used to make kid’s toys, so that they can play with him for a change.”