Michael Jackson was killed today. I use this terminology intentionally because there are many people in his life who are responsible for his death. His heart finally gave out after a lifetime of pressure from a career that began far too early.
He had no childhood. He had no real friends. His parents regarded him as a performing seal who could rake in the cash. In fact, everyone around him seemed to value Michael as a money-making machine.
His tragic life should be viewed as a warning to all those who forget that children should be allowed to be children. It is no wonder that he never grew up. If you miss out on normal childhood years so much of your emotional development is thwarted. You may look older but inside you are still a child.
And that’s what Michael was. He liked to play with children and I believe that even that wish was used against him by unscrupulous people who wanted to blackmail him with accusations of molestation. Some matters were settled out of court because it wasn’t productive to challenge them. And some were challenged and proved false.
Now I am not a lenient person by nature but I am convinced that anything he did was due to the fact that he had not matured in a so-called normal way.
Even now he was trying to regain some normality to his life by planning more concerts. Concerts are all that Michael knew as being normal.
It is hard to conceive that he was only fifty and yet had been performing for over forty years. What a burden that must have been even with all the success he had.
In my opinion, Michael Jackson was one of the three greatest performers of this modern age in pop. There was Elvis who died of fame, who was an amazing singer. There is Bob Dylan for his songwriting and Michael for his singing and dancing.
Some people would include the Beatles but oddly enough I only thought of them as occasional good songwriters but rather poor singers.
Michael Jackson was blessed with talent but in the end it probably killed him.