Does the world need another blog post about Michael Jackson? Probably not, but after spending way too many hours watching interviews with Michael on YouTube, I felt I had to write something. So here it is. Your comments are welcome.
Michael Jackson was a musical genius. He touched countless millions of people around the world through his music and dance. This we should celebrate and remember. But as a human being, he was no role model to be admired. It might seem harmless enough to call him as the “King of Pop,” but perhaps it’s time to consider the deeper meaning of this title.
The King certainly accepted the crown with pride, naming not one, but both of his sons “Prince MIchael.” And his spending habits easily matched the decadence of the Shah (who spent a reported 100 million dollars on celebrations for the 2,500th anniversary of the Persian monarchy in 1971). Many people say Michael was robbed of his childhood. In fact, his childhood lasted for 30 years, from age 20-50. And that’s not necessarily a good thing. Michael often invited groups of “disadvantaged” kids to his Neverland ranch. There, he treated them to a day of unabashed material excess, a world of make-believe, where you can have anything you want, as long as it can be bought (that doesn’t include happiness). In an interview, Michael recalls the reaction of one of the children: “Michael Jackson, you own all of this? You paid for all of this? And you still have money left over? I can’t believe it!!!” Michael lets out a bashful laugh at the thought. Let’s drop the charges of abuse for a moment, and instead ask: what did these kids gain from their experience at Neverland? An insatiable appetite for wealth? A desire to never mature? I will be the first to defend the value of retaining a childlike fascination with the world throughout one’s life, but childlike fascination does not have to be matched with immaturity and irresponsible materialism.
Celebrity on this scale is bad for the world. There is no one, absolutely no one in this world who would make me scream and cry upon seeing them in public. That doesn’t mean there aren’t many amazing people who I look up to, who inspire me, but my inspiration is always matched with the notion that these people are human beings just like me. I would love to share a physical space with them, to communicate with them, to learn from them, but I would gain nothing from throwing my hands up in the air, screaming, crying, asking for their autograph, then running away. The latter type of reaction seems to expose a deep-seated psychosis, or at least insecurity, in mainstream society. We see the star as someone to worship, someone we can never be. Whenever we elevate a human to the status of something completely unreal, even godlike, we have a problem. And by unreal, I mean disconnected from the reality of that human’s life. The symbol that Michael represents in the mind of his worshippers is as real as God, but has very little to do with the actual human that lived inside the shell. We might say the same about Jesus.
I honestly believe Michael was a loving, innocent, and incredibly talented human. He gave a lot to the world, but his deification (and demonization) should concern us. There are cries from his close friends to let the music speak for itself, while the media prods at all of the controversial aspects of his lifestyle. On one hand, I agree – let the music speak for itself. On the other hand, Michael’s life, not just his music, is embedded in our collective psyche, and I feel it is important for us to examine what he meant to us as a human being, as a role model, as a symbol of our goals and desires, and as a reflection of society’s ills. Perhaps the world would be better off without any more kings.
From the transcript of Ken Burns’ interview with Branford Marsalis for his 
On February 8, 2009, I performed an abridged version of Erik Satie’s 
“Quite certainly the radio is a foe!–and so are the gramophone and sound-film. An inexorable foe, irresistibly on the advance; opposition is a hopeless prospect.
“What is teaching? Teaching is in a sense what happened with Hindemith. This is the story about Hindemith and Yale: He says to somebody, ‘You know, I invented a system where you can be stupid and get good results?’ That was the whole idea—finding ways to make it democratic. It’s not democratic. I mean, composition is not democratic.”