A Tale Of Two Icons

"There is a healthful hardiness about real dignity that never dreads contact and communion with others, however humble." ~ Washington Irving

OK. I was going to write an entry about the "Cap and Tax" bill being approved in the House of Representatives yesterday. But, I confess that I don't understand the implications of it well enough to make an intelligent comment. Yet.

But then, before I could do the appropriate research, the news about the death of Michael Jackson grew legs, and before one could say "Billie Jean is not my love", stories about him were plastered all over newspapers, blogs, television, and radio.

In this morning's local newspaper there is a headline story, and no less than three related stories on the front page alone, and still more on the back, plus a commentary by what can only be described as, a columnist with a schoolgirls crush on Michael Jackson.

(as an aside, the columnist claims she remembers Jackson from a concert she attended before she was two years old. Anyone want to take bets that's a lie?)

All speaking in glowing terms about the so-called "King of Pop".

"Queen of Pop" would be more accurate, but still an overstatement.

It would be a vast understatement for me to simply say I am deeply disturbed by this level of hero worship. Why?

Does anyone remember who else died on Thursday?

Let me try to put things in perspective.

On one hand, we have a woman who many describe as an accomplished model and actress, or one who others may describe as a somewhat mediocre actress who nevertheless produced an iconic poster.

But this woman was also a brave fighter. A woman who sought to bring real awareness to the plight of millions around the world also affected by Cancer, through a self -produced documentary film that was shown on network TV just a short time before she lost her valiant battle with the horrible disease that took her life.

She left this world with the message that there is indeed dignity in dying.

There are many more positive adjectives that could be used to describe her, but mere words fail me.

Farrah Fawcett was an inspiration for all those who value integrity and self-worth.

She will be missed.

On the other hand, we have a freak. A man (or whatever) who had so many phobias and so much greed and selfishness that he shut himself away from the world, afraid of exposing his oft altered face to the world for fear he might catch some virus. A man who was afraid to come out into the light of day except to parade himself in front of an adoring media. A man who was so ashamed of his race and his color and his culture that he tried everything humanly possible to change himself. To alter his very physical appearance to hide his true identity.


A life exemplified by fear and shame.

Yes, he recorded music. I will even give him credit for being one of a few recording artist who had an instinct for perfection. His recordings were nearly flawless in their production.

But, he was also a pedophile. One of the lowest creatures to ever emerge from the cesspool of licentiousness. This man took depravity to a whole new level. What do his adoring fans say of the many children whose lives he literally ruined? Not one blessed word.

How tragic.

Michael Jackson doesn't deserve tribute. He deserves scorn.

There is not one positive moral value to be garnered from a study of his life and death.

No positive, moral message to teach our children and grandchildren. Except to be wary of men who say they love children.

He will not be missed.

So, I am outraged by the shameless adoration being shoveled out en masse for this monster, and by the lack of respect for a beautiful woman who's life exemplified courage, dignity, and integrity.

Shame. Shame. Shame.