June 25, 2009: The flash-fire rumor was spreading. Michael Jackson died. Within hours, every American news media swallowed it up and soon verified it as fact. The American people were stunned. I wasn’t. Only curiosity overwhelmed me: Was it a plane accident, a car accident, a murder, or simply, like his American counterpart, Elvis Presley decades earlier, a drug overdose?From June 25 to July 7, all national news’ media would inundate, in their all-too despicable tsunami fashion, Jackson’s every biographical minutiae: achievements, musical hits, concerts, family members’ mourning sessions, bereaving comments, morose funeral arrangements, etc. ad infinitum, ad nauseam.Something was awry: True, Jackson’s celebrity status was sky-rocketed via his uncanny ability to give his listeners and viewers the music they wanted to hear and the chorographical movements, apexed via his Moonwalk dance, (which I found more comical than creative) they seemingly craved. The morphological changes he made in his grandiose fashion covered the aura and mentality of the American scene like a drenched sand bag. I wondered why.On Thursday, July 2, 2009, CBS National News gave a 45-second segment to our military encounter in Afghanistan: “Two American soldiers were killed by another suicide bombing in the northern province of…” It proceeded to show a brief, obscured map of the exact location of the bombing. End of segment. No further details regarding any preventive measures planned by the military, no names of the deceased and/ or their military posts or affiliations (Army, Marines, etc.), no plans for their return home, no potential funeral details were given. Nothing. This was followed instantly by a full 11-minute segment on Michael Jackson’s death and how it was so deeply and terribly affecting so many American lives. |
My profound sympathy and empathy exists for Michael Jackson’s bereaving family. Death in any form is an abhorrent fact of life that none of us, regardless of our social or financial status, can easily accept. Grief itself is demonic. It can rip one’s soul to shreds, leaving its dangling tentacles to last for years as life itself persists to ambulate in its silent, uncaring ways.But my soul was a vacuum in holding any such emotions for Jackson’s grieving followers. My thoughts briefly hastened historically: How often I had asked myself, “Is he a man or woman? White or black? Is he a pedophile? A drug addict? How many free entertainment concerts ( comparable to Bob Hope, Jack Benny, and Jimmy Durante) did he give for our military personnel overseas? Most recently (according to the news media), “How did he die being millions in debt? Was it too much money donated to charities? If so, what, where, and when?”In his death, Jackson has been sky-rocketed to an international hero status. Statistics have already been given that the public ceremony of Michael Jackson’s funeral is expected to far exceed the number of international mourning viewers and attendees than that of Pope John XXIII's -- which poses the persistent, poignant question: What makes a hero? Is it not someone who should, somehow, someway change other people’s lives for the betterment of society? Somehow, I fail to remember when Michael Jackson's consistent rise to stardom increased anyone's paycheck. I cannot remember one time he served in any soup-kitchen line to help the homeless or ever volunteered to help Mother Theresa in assisting the starving children of India.Are the 5,000-plus soldiers who have given their lives or the 3,000-plus soldiers who have been maimed for life fighting for our American freedom heroes? If not, why not?Specifically, do we Americans need to re-define our now apparently warped hierarchal value system? Worse, is it possible that any such value system is now defunct?WJK-July 7, 2009 |
