The First Book of Michael (21 page)

One of the many tragedies of Michael’s death is the knowledge that we can never experience that feeling again. The last time I experienced it was at the O2 press conference that announced the
This Is It
venture. Though then, of course, the feeling was just one ingredient in a strange potion that also contained triumph and niggling concern. 

***

How does one explain the magnetism of Michael? How so many are so heartbroken and mournful at the death of someone they never met - to the same extent of sadness that accompanies losing a close family member?

There are many reasons: Michael was an engine of pure
prolificity in providing the world with quality, unique, timeless rhythms and melodies divined with purpose of healing the world; he was
the plausible, flesh-and-blood superhero; he was a surrogate parent; he filled the vacuum of self for so many people confused by the tragedy of loss; he was the Unknown Soldier, with millions of identities willed onto him by the bereft.

The world talks about Michael Jackson as an unbreakable enigma. But he wasn’t. Not to us. Not to those of us that walked through hell with him, its raging fires starkly illuminating the man’s vulnerabilities and faults – for anyone that cared to see. What he gave us in return is this: he gave us musical flags to plant as life milestones - points of reference galvanized by the soul orgasm of zeitgeist; he was our support system; he was an indicator for our identities - our very souls; he was our moral paradigm, a totem for our tried-and-tested, stoic-and-steadfast belief in the power of the truth - in the indefatigable advocating of it when confronted by egregious, audacious and unrelenting slander.

Indeed, reading the salacious descriptions of Michael quoted by tabloids and their anonymous sources is akin to listening to someone detail the character of a mutual friend, a person you have known for decades, but who they have only recently become acquainted with. You know this old friend inside-out – their flaws, their tribulations, their virtues – and are therefore gobsmacked by the inaccuracy of this other person’s depiction of them.

As Michael sang, “Your cameras can’t control / The minds of those who know / That you’ll even sell your soul / Just to get your story sold.”

The fable of
Beauty and the Beast
tells the tale of how decency is perennially ostracised by the cynicism of a society obsessed with superficiality. How scapegoating, promoted by the insecurity of bullies fearful of deviants, manifests in the Beast as his becoming more and more isolated. The love story in the fable demonstrates how two people find solace in each other after this rejection from society. This is the same as between Michael and his fans. Michael would not give up because he had the love from his fans. And we would not, and will not, give up because we had his.

With the increasing brutality Michael endured, the more we were drawn to him. The poor black boy born as a single permutation of the infinity of fate into - to borrow Janet’s phrase - “a world sick with racism”, who went on to defy the odds by escaping poverty and using his sacrifice of self to influence and help transform the world into a better place.

And in this is where the most significant answer to the conundrum of the world’s sense of grief at his death lies: simply, that the world is mourning en masse at the instinctive tragedy of our losing an opportunity for peace. As the musician Erykah Badu said: "He's in our DNA".

What kind of man inspires such depth of devotion where, in the absence of any official Mecca for their martyred hero, fans organise pilgrimages to the impenetrable gates of his house? What kind of man generates a loyalty entirely unfazed, infinite and unwavering, despite daily ad hominem attacks on him and his supporters? What kind of man invokes rapture at the slightest sight of his twitching a curtain? What kind of man enkindles vigils?

It is the kind of man who transformed the curse of a disease into a totem of equality; who - singlehandedly, using his unparalleled level of fame - attempted to undo centuries of blackface minstrel mockery of his race, yet not with a sense of vengeance, but with a motive for human unity; it is the kind of man who made a concerted effort to be Christ-like, who poured his wealth on the poor and emulated the children; it is the kind of man that taught us that perception is merely a reflection of oneself, that love is truth, and that sacrifice is something to aspire to.

Michael’s mission stalled when, after perceived provocations, he was arrested, and his character assassinated. How Michael’s message is interpreted is vitally important to humanity, considering the unique stature that lends itself to the totemic.

Michael always said it was his stature that made him such an easy target for the sheer volume and size of rocks that were thrown at him. But it is also this stature that enables his utilisation as a global symbol for love and peace. The attacks continue, of course. They will never let him rest in peace, which is why the fan community is so important. He rescued so many of our childhoods, and it’s our duty to protect and defend him in his death. It is us, the fans, who must defend against the apparently compulsory attacks undertaken by those happy to be pseudo-educated by sensationalist tabloid headlines and Internet links.

Now. Wouldn’t it be great if we could all get along in the fight against that?

The press are now more vulnerable in the wake of the Leveson enquiry. We will not stand idly by and watch Michael Jackson slandered. We will make a noise; we will raise our voice as one.

***

The loyalty of Michael’s fans is akin to that within a family. A family such as the Jacksons themselves. Any large community is not only a reflection, but a macrocosm of the family condition, with the identifiable stereotypes that that contains: stoic matriarchs, scapegoated sons, reliable aunts, reclusive uncles, embarrassing patriarchs and vulnerable teenagers. 

Out of this quagmire of inextricably linked characters and personality disorders emerges the ubiquitous backstabbing, name-calling and oneupmanship of human beings that know precisely which buttons to press in order to garner a reaction from their kin. What also emerges, however, is the unparalleled capacity for forgiveness, understanding and unwavering support in the face of cruel adversity. Such as being at your brother’s side throughout a gruelling trial in which he is accused of molesting children. 

The Jackson family, however, must not only deal with their own family dynamics, but also with being the projection screen for every angst-ridden fan with family rage as well; with online social networking meaning that they now have front row seats in their very own cinema of abuse. (And that’s before you even consider the traditional buzz of irrational hatred aimed at the family that is stirred and perpetuated by tabloid press and television. But then, they’re used to that.) 

The Michael Jackson fan community is much less divided, as it is obliterated into smithereens; comprised, as it is, of as many factions as to rival the Christian church, with each cohort manipulating the belief system in a way to suit their specific requirements. And within a fanbase as vast as an artist such as Michael’s is, it is right and inevitable that these variations will exist.

However, the proposed sale of Neverland is a rare opportunity for a united stance amongst Michael’s fans, whose capacity for bickering amongst themselves is tantamount to self-sabotage. There has been enough rock-throwing. The philosopher Confucius contemplated that, at the point where one faction of a battle appears to be in control, the wisest thing to do is allow the opposition to retreat across their bridge, thus allowing them the opportunity of distance to reconsider their perspective. Certain factions of Michael’s fan community have arrived at such a juncture.

One of the reasons it’s so hard to consider the idea that fans in the opposing corner might be motivated by love, is because that would suggest that their opinions must therefore have credence. Yet, those two issues are entirely unrelated. A great deal of arguing just assumes the hate-based motivations of the other side as standard. The strategy in such opining is rarely to change enemies’ perceptions. A project for change would surely be better advantaged by accepting the idea that those fans with opposing views also think of themselves as decent, loving people.
When you believe your enemies are also galvanised by love, it must be more likely that a compromise can be reached. You don’t need to like your opponent - let alone acquiesce to their argument - in order to understand that they really like themselves, and that this liking of themselves probably means more to 
them
 than does their disliking of you.

Progress in resolving conflicts within the fan community will only come about when we all understand that the love each and every one of has for Michael is sincere, regardless of which pane of the prism we peer at him through. Michael effortlessly inspires sincerity.

As Michael sang, “This is our mission, to see it through / This is our planet, you’re one of us / “You’re just another part of me” – we’re just another part of each other, with Michael as a conduit.

Michael holds up a mirror to humanity. His fans were given the opportunity to perceive the world through his own particular pane of the prism: one painful, yet privileged. Each of us fans as individuals is in some way a reflection of the man himself, with his common goal: to help heal the world. Those who project themselves onto Michael and see a monster are merely construing themselves. The only monster is the one interpreted. There is no evidential basis whatsoever for a belief in Michael as a monster. It was envy and extortionists that did that. As Michael sang, “The heart reveals the proof / Like a mirror reveals the truth.”

If I could wish for anything, it would be that everyone could perceive Michael the way we do, regardless of our political stance.

The Estate of Michael Jackson is being sued for their attempted deceit of fans. This is a prime opportunity for the millions of fans seduced by the capitalist mutation offered by the Estate as a replacement idol, to evolve in the same way that Michael did: from the man obsessed with having the world’s biggest selling record, to the man obsessed with building the world’s biggest children’s hospital; from materialism to spiritualism. Our peaceful protest in defending the legacy and name of Michael Jackson is gathering pace. Our numbers are amassing. Recruits are being educated with the knowledge that a life of the magnitude of Michael Jackson’s cannot be frittered away by those motivated by mindless greed and vacuous consumerism. Michael Jackson’s life is a chance for the people of the planet to reflect upon what is actually important for each and every one of us. And I don’t imagine media-driven malice is high up there on that list.

The perpetuation of the lie of Michael being a child molester undermines his life’s work, his message and his mission. This is the single issue, above all others, which is the most crucial with regards Michael’s legacy. To fight against this, we can disregard our other differences. This is the true cause that unites the Michael Jackson fan community.

Indeed, if the success of a leader is measured by the loyalty of his followers, there is none stronger than Michael, regardless of which faction of fans you might represent. Michael refused to change direction with his beliefs. And we must remain just as unwavering in our defence of him. We must remain fortitudinous in the fulfilling of his mission: each of us taking pride in our position as a requisite speck of light on the peacock’s coalescent coat, in order that we contribute to its immortality. And that we do so – in triumph.

‘Murmuration’ is the word given to the spectacle of flocking starlings (the avian visual antithesis to the peacock) as they pulsate in unified splendour. As the starlings chirp and whistle, as they coalesce in open skies, they bring to mind the words of our artist - that “there’s nothing that can’t be done, if we raise our voice as one.” Murmuration is a phenomenon observed at dusk, as starlings prepare to roost.

Conversely, however - as one UK tabloid recently noted in response to a fan anti-defamation campaign - “the Michael Jackson fans are just waking up.”

***

Michael performed to hundreds of millions of people during his life. Every crowd he played to was comprised of an adoring ocean of people, in which each individual had fallen as a nuanced raindrop, forming a harmonious sea of love: a form that was fluid, yet entire – like the dancer and the dance that had summoned them all to be together. And Michael gleefully received this love. More than that: he was energised by it. Arms outstretched, awash in the pulsing warmth of the love of a hundred-thousand people, he absorbed the adoration the way a butterfly imbues heat – in order to generate enough strength to fly.

When on tour, Michael would scream to the sound engineers, “Hurt me!” in a request for them to increase the volume and intensity of the music. And indeed there was a sense of the masochist in his work ethic. The global events that were Michael Jackson World Tours caused him renewed suffering from various medical conditions. The poor state of his lungs – likely a consequence of the merciless schedule thrust upon him as a child that involved singing nightly in the smoky venues the
Jackson 5
played (oh the irony of that word!).

During parts of the
Dangerous
tour, Michael was so ill he was sometimes having to exit the stage mid-song in order to take oxygen. With this borne in mind, then, the efforts exerted in his planetary crisscrossing - as courageous as they would be even for someone in their physical prime - become viewed as being nothing short of superhuman.