michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 5)

my eyes feel so heavy now... not in a tired way (even though i am getting sleepy now), but in a post-crying sort of way... my eyes feel strained, and sort of dry.

i woke up to the sound of lumbia throwing up today... i immediately thought, 'oh please, not you too!!! please don't die...' i flashed back to my tortoiseshell companion holly, who after many sessions of vomiting (and eventual not eating), it was discovered she had pulmonary carcinoma, a rare form of cancer in cats. i stood there and watched holly take her last breath. she had lost half her body weight and had a huge tumor seemingly the size of a fruit inside of her... she was so strong, despite the massive amount of pain i could imagine she was in. it was one of the most devastating feelings i have ever felt in my life. she was my companion for seven years. i immediately felt lumbia's torso to see if she had any major lumps throughout her body. i then went to clean up after her. she vomited about four times, at least... all i kept thinking was 'please don't die, lumbia... i don't know if i could take that right now...'

the interesting thing about cats is how perceptive they are... it makes me wonder if lumbia senses what is going on with me, more than i think she does...

i had a conversation with someone yesterday, where she was telling me how she felt she was able to speak and connect with me in some way, despite how i am feeling. a number of weeks before his transcendence, i went through a major depressive period, where i was unable to communicate with anyone. in this period i went through one of many suicidal thoughts. i have been battling this since the age of 14. i have also made several attempts throughout my life, consciously and subconsciously.

in this conversation i told her that if i were to still be in this depressive state; with all that is now going on she may not have been standing there talking to me today. she asked if there was any way anyone could have reached out to me. i told her i didn't know... all i knew was that i was in a space where i didn't necessarily care.

today was a day where i learned many lessons... i spent time with my friend tiffany, who is a therapist, as well as one who practises buddhism. we haven't sat down to a chat for at least a year. but, i did know a lot of things were going to come up, as she is a therapist. she told me she was worried about me, not in the way everyone else is in light of this whole event. she said she was worried that i've been isolating myself, as i always do; and that in writing this book i have not formed any substantial relationships with anyone in this time, except for with him. this isn't necessarily true, but i know what she is saying.

before she started saying all this to me, she told me how she was doing (she is doing a lot better than the last time i really hung out with her), and then she wanted to know how i was doing. i told her i've only been thinking about one thing. she understood that, then took my hand; i began to cry. i didn't realize i wasn't breathing, until she told me to breathe. when a breath came out, the tears would not stop.

throughout the evening we discussed her perceptions of me (all of them which are true). she said nothing i didn't know. as a matter of fact, she said stuff that quite a few people have told me. she told me that his 'death' also represents something in me dying, because how i perceive him is how i perceive myself. (yes, this is true, i have acknowledged this already). i told her that i didn't know if i was going to finish the book, and that i was asking him for guidance in terms of what to do. i told her that i wanted to honor him. she asked if i was writing the book for him, or me. i told her both of us. she then told me something to the effect of, his physically not being here is an opportunity for me to begin again. he is not here for me to hide behind his shadow... i have to emerge and speak about my own experiences. i told her this was the point of the book, to come to terms with my own experiences. she told me that i could finish writing it, and never publish it. (this is certainly true, but i also want people to see the side which connects him to all of us as well)... i have accepted/come to terms with the fact that people tell me about myself. there is nothing new being said about me... the interesting this was that on this day i was not really crying for myself and everything she told me, but i was crying for myself in relation to him... there were certain triggers in me, that even though she was talking about me i instantly connected with him.

this moment with tiffany got me thinking... in all my conversations with him since he physically left, i felt all of my calls were unanswered. i resigned it to his great need for sleep after 45 years of no rest... but perhaps this was one of his ways of speaking to me. this most likely will not be the ONLY way, but it may have been one. perhaps this was a lesson he was trying to teach me in the first place: through his pain comes my realization that i have the ability to heal. his spiritual manifestation could be telling me, through tiffany, that he appreciates all that is being done between myself and him, in terms of letting the world know of his humanity. but now he is in no more pain, and i don't need to worrry about him. it would make him happy if i used what i learned from this moment and do what it is he set out to do- try to find modes of universal healing through his art. he never had room to heal himself, but that does not mean that i don't.

if this is true what he is saying to me, i thank tiffany for helping me begin to get there... everything has its purpose, its reason... he was brought to me for a reason. i truly believe that. and i will always honor and love him; for he was (and is) my life's teacher.

it was after this moment with tiffany that i encountered another incident- which was NOT so peaceful... but it left me feeling another mode of self-realization/education... i was reading an article on his father joseph, in relation to the BET awards fiasco (i refuse to watch any footage of this surfacing on the internet). the article discussed how his mode of grieving was innapropriate, as he looked like he was partying and promoting his next project. i am not one to judge; i also don't know if that is the only way he knows how to grieve at this point... in terms of how I am feeling, i cram to understand (in the words of mc lyte) how someone has physically lost a son- a son who was known and admired on every corner of this earth- and smile and discuss your son's popular culture legacy in terms of records and sales...

a friend of mine was reading this same article... in light of his recognizing my feelings and any sort of grieving i am experiencing (he also shed a tear during this period) it threw me off for him to begin this debate about why the focus on celebrities is not important. i was not in a space for this, but i welcomed the sentiment, to explain that everything is relative, and that this fascination is reflective of our collective consciousness of how we view ourselves- and how we are viewed to the rest of the world. he became offended that i would use 'we' , as he does not feel included in a 'collective' culture i am speaking of... he emphasizes the individual's ability to escape these cultures. i explained that this was a priviledged position to take, as he was fortunate enough to be able to process things in this way. some people do not leave their block for their whole lives, so it may not be possible to fathom there being another life outside of that collective. he was insitent that it was easier than i thought it was.

another example i gave was a black person travelling to a city where there are no other black people. this person is consistently bombarded with statements of, 'i hate black people'. why? because the perception of black people is the same one seen on the television. there is no framework of looking at people as people. this is why the individual and the collective are so intertwined. they are not mutually exclusive.

he said not a word during my saying all of this, and he said not a word to me after the conversation was over... i found this to be curious, since he mentioned not too long ago that one of the things he liked about me was in our disagreements (which we have; our life's philosophies are so different), i do not hold grudges. i feel there is no reason to, as everything we speak is based on our experiences and perceptions.

this was another lesson to me- how do i view myself in the world, with respect to all that's been going on these past few days. where am i? how do i feel about myself? where do i fit in? what are others thinking of me? what exactly is it i am contributing? have i been wrong all along?

is the pain i am feeling warranted? should i just 'get over him' immediately? how do i do that? WHY should i do that?

have these two years been all for naught? did i need him to learn what i did? why am i even crying for someone i didn't know physically, for 5, 6 days straight? what is wrong with me? is there anything wrong with me at all?

in all my 'realizations' i am extremely confused and angry.

all i know is that he is my teacher, and i will never forget that.

i thank you, i love you (please remember this), and i still continue to ask for guidance...

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 4)

i think i am at the second stage of this grief/trauma bit: anger... i keep seeing discussions about outside forces... i keep seeing discussion that media is not honoring him correctly... i keep seeing discussion about what may have prompted his cardiac arrest... i feel so bombarded by all of this, when i don't really care about any of it... all i know is that my teacher is not physically here, and it hurts me to no end. i just want to scream that to everybody. WHY CAN'T YOU OVERSTAND THIS! MY TEACHER IS NOT PHYSICALLY HERE!!!

someone sent me an article stating that the cause of the cardiac arrest most likely was a result of his bout with lupus. i was actually quite aware that he was suffering from lupus (discoid lupus, as a matter of fact- the one which effects the skin; it was not as far gone as the one which affected jay dilla)). this has been confirmed on several medical websites for a while now. he's also been filmed at events supporting the research for lupus. this is not new news to me. it's been said he was diagnosed with having lupus around the same time he was getting treatment for being burnt in the infamous 'pepsi incident'. this was confirmed, in every medical website i looked up some time ago, by one of his doctors, arnold klein. this was also used as evidence in one of his court cases. there are also photos in the mid 1980s, (with his 'beat it jacket on in particular), where you see the 'butterfly rash' on his face, which is a symptom of discoid lupus:
it is evident in this photo:

or here:

HOWEVER! to say that this is simply the cause of his transcendence is upsetting, because it doesn't look holistically at how he treated himself. if he ate healthily (which apparently, he did not), if he didn't deal with as much stress as he dealt with over the years (almost his whole life); if he didn't overexert himself in terms of performance... if he just gave himself a CHANCE to just sit, breathe and reflect- if lupus is indeed the cause for his transcendence, would he have had an inflammation?

i do not care if the cause is lupus, cancer, anorexia; overdose on demerol, morphine or pills, chemical imbalance, schizophrenia... none of this matters to me. none of this takes into account the emotional and physical pain he must have been feeling, enough to ask the ancestors to take him away from this plane. discussing this in terms of a simple medical definition and diagnosis (even when discussing mental health issues) in my opinion would limit him as a full being, with a full range of experiences and emotions.

he suffered from a broken heart, and no autopsy report will ever know the depths to which he suffered.

i am feeling so upset now. i need closure, but not the kind i am being inundated with. i do not watch television; i already KNOW that BET or any other network is not going to honor him in a way fit for someone of his stature... he was a small person, but his presence loomed universally. he stood next to interviewers who were way taller than he, but when he performed or when he stood in front of cameras he grew. i have no expectations from media, so i create my own ways to honor him.

i have decided against going to california. there are millions of fans there already. ultimately i would love to be with others grieving just the same as i am, but i don't want to contribute to a circus. i just want to know he is at peace. and i know my presence in california will not confirm that.

i have also decided against looking at any coverage of a homegoing ceremony, if there will be any footage of it. i am sure i will hear about it.

i am still having difficulty looking at those three words together...

they were nice enough to let his music play at work all day... i heard him speaking today on one of the discs, and i choked up... i had to skip it. earlier in the day i cried in the aisles, when i heard him sing. the great irony is that it is only he i can listen to at this point, or no music at all. i had to turn on the vaccum, to drown out a song.

i am coming to terms with this, looking at his pictures; trying to look into his eyes. i look, and then i avert my eyes... i can look at most of them, but there is one... there is one i cannot. on my wall is an image, the gatefold centre of the 'jacksons' album, where all of them are there, their afros coalescing. i have the most difficulty looking at this image, with him in the centre, staring deep into the camera's viewer's/listener's gaze.

i wore the 'billie jean' outfit (like the one at the top image) today, to honor him. i kept the glove on most of the day... people told me i looked 'cute' or just yelled 'michael!' it was really hard to smile today, and i didn't really... i told people i was grieving when they asked how i was doing, and still, they laughed. i certainly recognize that people have their different ways of grieving (and their relationship to him may not be like the one i have with him), but still, it is frustrating.

all i need to know is that he is okay.

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 3)

my face is melting off, and my insides have been ripped out... that is what i am feeling like right now... i have been on the phone this week-end more than i have been in months, and my head is swirling, due to the microwaves close to my head (and i don't use the phone enough to invest $40 to get one of those ear things)... i am feeling entirely hollow right now. ironically i am not as concerned with the toxicity right now, as much as i am the connection. i am feeling so isolated, living here in portland, where there does not seem to be a concrete community to process all of this.

i literally just got off the phone with a friend who commented on the short-term memory syndrome of people, in relation to emotional connection. all day, i have been encountering people who in my estimation think my dressing up like him seems like a trivial remembrance, or statement of irony. i've run into people wanting me to give them high fives; or there would be people laughing, yelling his name... i feel so lonely, having no people around to grieve with...

my appetite is still minimal... people want me to eat, so i do. i hung out with my friend on his radio show, where he played a remix of one of his songs, and i began to cry. i have been crying in front of people who i've never expected to cry in front of. whenever i talk about him, i pause, because it's still hard for me to say his name.

i want to go to california. i need closure. i need to know he is okay. i need to know he is truly safe, and at peace...

i did read an article today, which mentioned that his oldest child was in his presence when he transcended... i can only imagine what that is like. it was said that he thought his father was just being 'dad', playing around... quite similar to the scene in 'the godfather', when vito corleone collapses in the garden with his grandchild... poor children... they now have no father... he was in so much pain, and he loved his children with all of his heart.

in this time, children have been a part of bright moments in my life as well... when i went back to work for a bit to purchase things, i was told that a young child of a customer asked about me... her father said that when she heard the news of his transcendence, she asked something to the effect of, "isn't he the friend of the lady who works at the store? is she okay?" i was not even aware that this child acknowledged me, or knew of my love for him.

also, i saw my 6-year old friend as i was riding my bicycle... we hugged, then she placed her hand on me in sympathy. i also spoke with my niece (who is 7), and she asked how i was doing. i told her i was sad. she said, "yeah, everyone is sad. but he IS the king of pop!" those were the moments that greatly touched me... out of these cloudy days appear rays of sunshine. i know he would be very proud.
i have essentially refused to see news about him, but i have seen some things, with links that people have given and shown me and such... one of the pieces i saw actually DID confirm what i have felt in my heart (and what i wrote yesterday)- that he called on the ancestors to take him... he no longer wanted to be in pain... mental OR physical... he was tired of living under scrutiny, contracts and cameras... one of the issues that came up was his children... why would someone who loves his children so much want to 'not live'? sometimes, when you are suffering from major depression (which may or may not be diagnosed), it's difficult to see through that fog. because this is the place where i initially saw him when i began to truly love and respect him, this is what i have truly felt in terms of this situation. i have been in this same type of situation (with this fog where nothing in life mattered), so i connected with what i saw to be his depression.

i also saw in one of these pieces that he was diagnosed as a schizophrenic as a child... technically this would make sense, considering his various personalities in terms of songwriting and performance- from his childlike persona to his violent imagery (ala 'smooth criminal'). he has also claimed over the years that people were out to get him. this sentiment is all over his music (in particular the HIStory album). it's also evident in the letter he wrote on the 'bad' tour, where he writes, "i've been bleeding for a long time" (one of his major signs of asking for help, but PEOPLE DIDN'T LISTEN!!!). however, having grown up in an abusive household (as he climed) the way he writes would make perfect sense as well. whether or not this statement of his diagnosis is actually true, it is uncalled for. why would this statement be made NOW, in light of all that is going on? none of that should matter.

i saw something (which may have come from the sun, so there you go) mentioning the initial autopsy, which claimed he really did have skin cancer, and that he was healing from that... he was found to have 'peach fuzz' on his head, and was emaciated. one could claim, if this was true, that his cancer was in remission, and he was dealing with chemotherapy, which could be why he was taking painkillers (aside from all the injuries he's endured over the years from physical exertion). i cannot confirm this, until an actual legal autopsy report comes out.

a question would be, if all of this is INDEED true, why would he pass a 5-hour intensive health inspection with flying colours? if he did indeed have issues with his lungs, if he had skin cancer... he was also diagnosed with discoid lupus years ago... if he was truly this sick, why would the insurance companies and the concert promotions people allow this tour to occur?

the truth is, though, i don't want to know what the report says... no matter what the reports say, i know in my heart he had a broken heart.

in terms of food, i wanted to do a 'jackson diet' (sans KFC) this week-end... but i realized that i don't really like beans... he really liked enchiladas... and none of this would matter anyway, because i haven't had much of an appetite. i haven't felt much like doing anything; this is the only thing weighing heavy on my mind right now. i just have headaches from crying so much.

i am trying to figure out some other ways to connect, but i have difficulty finding them... in terms of my relationship with him these past two years, i realize i really have no gague of relating to him in a 'popular culture' sense; my connection with him began by looking into his eyes and noticing how troubled he was. how sad. i related his songs with this. i never really looked at his songs as completely fun- i haven't looked at his songs that way since i was six years old. for me, his songs were depressing. his songs described how lonely and isolated he was from the outside world. at the same time his songs discussed his perceptions of how the world worked; he engaged lyrically, and through interviews, all of our connections throughout society. this is why so many people around the world could relate to him. his art was extremely clear in showing us how flawed of a person he was- just like the rest of us are flawed. when people place him above anyone else i do not understand. he had hopes and fears just like the rest of us. how is he any different from us?

he was a victim of abuse just like i was, and he perpetuated the cycle of abuse, just like i have. be it self-abuse or whatever... there are varying degrees of that, and a lot more subtle than we care to discuss... my love, respect and admiration for him came in that realization that did not come with looking at his art in terms of popular culture; it came in terms of me looking at his art as a survivor. he's survived, but he hasn't healed. his art is extremely autobiographical, and full of pain. this is how i have viewed what he's done over the course of his career. how i have viewed him came from a place of pain.

so when people laud the global effects of 'thriller' or discuss the first time they saw him on 'motown 25' or soul train or whatever, i can't relate. i have related to him in terms of how i relate to myself as a being in this society, and this world.

this is why it is difficult for me to dance, or think of 'happy things' when it comes to him.

i do what i do because i want to honor him. and i do not do what i do lightly.

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 2)

it's extremely difficult for me to get my head around things... i am at a loss, and entirely conflicted- which was the case with my relationship with him in the first place... it's still hard for me to say his name, and when i did today it sounded entirely strange. i still feel as if he never left. but i know he has. and it's killing me.

there are all these articles discussing 'what killed him'. but i insist he left this plane with a broken heart. the more i look into the articles people have given me, the more i believe he's been making preparations for a long time with the ancestors. at least ten years.

it's been said that the life he led in his 50 years was fuller than someone who's even lived a hundred. this may be the case, but still, he hasn't reached his full potential as a human, because he was never given a chance to. we've generally only known him in performance mode. but now, in his transition, we are all learning about ourselves. i think this was truly his purpose for being here: to teach us about ourselves.

in concrete terms, more than anything i think what (or WHO) 'killed' him was jordan chandler. he has been so vocal over the years about his love for children, that if he were told there were no more children left on this earth he would slit his wrists. in 1993 when evan chandler (jordan's father) accused him of child molestation, this was the beginning of the end. this was when it was widely known that he became heavily addicted to painkillers. in 2005, when he was accused of the same violation by the arviso family, this WAS the end for him. the fact that CHILDREN, of all people, could be adulterated, just killed him. he seemed to continue to hold on, for his own children, for his fans and for his loved ones, but i think he was just at a loss. just looking at him after this point, his eyes seemed to have lost faith in humanity.

was he afraid of his own mortality? i cannot say... it has been said though, that he has claimed he was not going to live soon after the age of fifty. we have lisa marie presley's apparent essay, stating that he told her in seriousness that he was not going to live until an older age, shrugging his shoulders in concession, despite her protests of his statement... plus someone told me today that someone she knows overheard him discussing the fact that he claimed he was not going to live to see 51... if all of this is true, my intuition (from what i wrote in yesterday's blog) scares me. was my connection this deep with him, that i felt any sort of pain he was feeling? how many other people who did not personally know him saw this coming?

i think it's fairly safe to say that he 'died' before he got to the hospital. the question remains, if he chose to do this. it's not uncommon to revive someone after they have a heart attack, perhaps even cardiac arrest. did he just choose to leave this body?

when he demanded AEG (the concert promotions company) to put his cardiologist on their payroll for the tour, was he preparing for this moment? the cardiologist was his live-in doctor for two weeks (but with him for three years), before this moment. the concerts were to begin about two weeks from now. the coincidence of this is so confusing to me... two weeks with a 'live-in doctor'... why? it appears very much to me to be a hospice sort of situation. i am so confused... why would his doctor administer something like demerol to him, when there is a possibility he was taking other prescription medicines? did he take some without telling his doctor, then he took the dosage of demerol (or whatever it was) at the 'correct time' but it mixed with the other drugs, causing a cardiac arrest? was he just SO addicted to pills, or was he truly preparing for this moment of transcendence?

as i said, it's entirely difficult for me to get my head around things. i spent most of the day riding a bicycle, in full regalia: the glove, fedora, jacket with the gold embroidery, sequins and rhinestones, white socks and loafers... i just rode and rode and rode. i just stared off into space most of the time, so i think most people just went on their merry way. but some people were staring at me, and others decided to speak. there was everything from 'long live MJ', to 'rest in peace', to 'look, it's MJ' to someone giving a thumbs up sign, to just yelling his name outside of a car. there was also honking of a car horn. some pre-teen kids made the 'hee hee' sound, trying to mess with me, i think. one of the kids said, 'leave her alone, she is MJ'. at least this is what i heard. when i was downtown one man, as i was at a stoplight came up to me, his shirt tagged with about 10-12 MJ buttons, and gave me a hug. he asked me to marry him. his friend said, 'yeah, you should marry him!'

i ended up having a conversation with someone who stopped and wanted to take my picture. i began talking, and i began crying. the fact that i can cry in front of complete strangers over this situation is significant.

i spoke with pearljr., one of the biggest MJ advocates i know tonight, and she is extremely heartbroken and shaken up over this... like me, she didn't have an appetite, and could not sleep.

i wish i were here with a community of folks right now, who feel the same way i do, and who understand what i am feeling in this moment. it's quite isolating here in portland. it is gonna take a long time to cope with this situation. we must remain positive in light of everything, because that's what he would have wanted.

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 1)

two days later... I. CANNOT. STOP. CRYING. i am making myself eat, i do not have an appetite. it is taking me a long time to get to sleep. my head and my eyes hurt from wiping my eyes so much. i am having difficulty formulating any clear statement, other than realizing that his lyrics speak miles about how i am feeling. i expect that that was what he wanted in the first place, to forge his place in popular culture as being appreciated for his art.

all i know is that i am speechless. i cannot even say his name right now, more or less look at it, because whenever i see it, that OTHER word appears next to it now. i haven't read any news articles, unless it was something someone sent to me. there are the well-known five stages of dealing with issues of transcendence (i REFUSE to call it 'death', because his spirit will never leave us). i am wondering how common it is to experience both the first and the fifth (denial and acceptance) at the same time- because that is EXACTLY what i am feeling. when i first saw the news (after hearing it from a house-mate and not necessarily believing it, because you know all the rumors that fly), the first thing i did, amongst a flood of tears, was to say 'no no no no!!!' and still, looking at his pictures, it's still as if he is still physically here.

BUT, the second i came home last night (the night his transcendence occurred) from doing an impromptu tribute for him for the radio, rivers just flowed from my eyes... i could not look into his eyes; those eyes i always so lovingly look at. he has the most beautiful eyes i have ever seen in my life- these deep, dark, LARGE brown eyes of sadness... and occasionally they would glow with pure joy. and i found that i could not look into them. this was my realization, my acknowledgment that he really, really has become one of our ancestors now... and STILL through this acceptance, i just kept saying 'no no no no...'

moments before i heard this news, what was i doing? listening to his music, of course... just like i've done every day. i have invoked, i have spoken his name every single day. and now i cannot speak his name. not without choking up, or drowning in rivers. maybe tomorrow, i'll change my mind, and i can say it with the same conviction as i had before... all i can do is stare... i lose focus... i had to work today, and all i could do was cry.

i have to keep going, despite losing a part of myself... i have spent EVERY SINGLE DAY, FOR TWO YEARS in the consciousness of this man. or he in the consciousness of me. i don't know if he will ever know how much he has meant to me, and has taught me about myself. these words i write now can never convey how i felt about him. his impact as an artist certainly did hit me (i did grow up with his art). but he has taught me so much about the way the world works. he has taught me so much about the gift of acceptance.

i love him so very much, and it is difficult for me to express this here. those who have known me throughout this consciousness shifting in these two years know how much he has affected my life, and how much i love, respect and appreciate him. and how much he has become a part of me.

just like my stepfather at the age of 50 (who i did not really get on with very well), this 50-year old man (who i have not physically met, but we have met in my dreams, and my subconscious) left this earthly plane with a broken heart. i sincerely believe he asked the ancestors to finally give him peace, and they respected his wishes. he had so much pain in his heart, and in his spirit, and he may have felt he could never be fully healed from that in this lifetime. he is in a much better place now. i have accepted that, but it still hurts me to no end.

it hurts me to know that he never felt he could reach his full potential (he has openly said that he was afraid of fulfilling this). it hurts me to know that despite having three wonderful children in his life (i can only imagine how they are feeling right now)- children who were the loves of his life- he may have been in more pain than they could have even foreseen. it pains me to know that he never knew how many people truly did love him.

and it especially hurts me to know that i had a feeling this was coming... when he turned 50 i had this deep feeling in my heart. i thought it was gonna happen sooner than it did. i was in denial, because i did not want to put this out in the universe... but it stayed with me. it kept haunting me right around his 50th birthday. when he DID turn 50 i had an extensive sigh of relief- but the feeling was still there. i had hoped that he would spend these years NOT in performance, but with his children. i had hoped he would spend these years into the age of 70, 80... rocking in his rocking chair, telling stories to his grandkids by the fire, with graying hair and some love handles...

...and then the 'THIS IS IT' announcement came... the dark feeling came back. i have written my feelings on his speech announcing the tour somewhere on this blog on another date... but when he announced doing ten dates for this tour, i instantly got mad at him- BECAUSE I WANTED HIM TO STAY HOME AND FINALLY STOP LIVING IN PERFORMANCE. i had sincerely hoped he would stop performing/touring, because he emphatically said he was not going to live like that, most recently in the december 2007 issue of ebony magazine. he's also been quite public about his dislike of touring. and there he went, accepting a 10 date tour, which extended into 50 dates. i actually was quite livid at the situation. but i did make attempts to get a ticket for one of these london shows. because, he was so adamant about this being his last series of shows. but of course, there was talk of the tour extending BEYOND LONDON if the london shows did well enough... the cycle begins again...

thus, he never, in the 45 years of his life in perfomance, he never, ever got a chance to just be a PERSON. this is what i was hoping for... but when i saw he was doing those concerts in london i knew that was never gonna happen. this is what hurts.

the development of this consciousness occurred as i was in the process of writing this book on him, where the goal was to make the connection between he and the rest of us- to humanize him. i have been distraught over whether or not i am to finish it. everyone i know has told me to finish it; but ultimately i am asking him for guidance. i am looking to his spirit for guidance in this.

i was told i should write what my feelings are surrounding this situation every day. so let this be the first day.

michael (oh, dear god...), if you are reading this (with your beautiful, large dark brown eyes) just know that i love you very much, and i am so, so happy for you now... it hurts me so much right now, but know i am happy for you, that you are no longer suffering in this life which gave you so much heartache.

and i know you are shining upon us still, because on the day of the... news, i saw four dogs sitting in one of those british mini cars, all staring at me, wating for their friend to come out of the sandwhich shop (that's your humorous side); and yesterday on my way to work (still grieving) i was on my bicycle and saw a group of kids (about 7 or 8 of them) learning how to ride bicycles (that is your caring side). there are still rays of sunshine amongst the clouds.

i love you so very much; and may you finally be at peace with yourself, and with the world.

another MJ dream: this time with scaled animals!!!

this blog page, though it's got a bunch of socio-political commentary on it, is essentially a documentation of my journey in terms of writing this book on the michael... so of COURSE i am going to continue this journey by documenting my dreams... as the solemn violins surround michael's ode to a rat (YES, i am listening to 'ben', and it makes me CRY too) i think about how i just wrote a friend of mine about the dreams i've had about michael being surrounded with some sort of anxiety, and that i haven't had any dreams with him in them for a while (even though i've had PLENTY of anxiety in my life as of late).

and of course i ended up having a dream with him in it, before i woke up the next day.

this time the location was in the apartment i grew up in, in the bronx. the apartment wasn't filled with much, except for a couple of beds and a bunch of fabric. in the dream, michael looked just like he did in 1984. my sister was in the dream as well, and all three of us were in the room which used to be our parents' room. i think the room was sea green, just like it was when we were kids. she was on the floor, possibly cutting some fabric, i was on the queen-sized bed, possibly writing something, and michael was to the right of me, half standing and half on the bed. he was saying something to me, but it all seemed to be a blur.

i left michael in mid-conversation to go into the room which used to be the room my sister and i shared. this room was white (just like it had been when we were kids) and it had paper everywhere, crumpled. there were also black pieces of fabric everywhere... i look down on the floor, close to the entrance of the room, and a tank was broken. i look a couple of feet in front of me, and there was a turtle, hovering over a garter snake, trying to attack the snake. they were fighting by a closet door close to the entrance door, with a mirror on it. watching the turtle beat up the snake made me feel ill, and i ran back into the room michael and my sister were in, screaming. michael is on the opposite end of the room where the bed is, and his back is turned to me. i put my hand on his shoulder, screaming about the turtle and the snake.

then i wake up.

why does ANYBODY even try to make a film about michael jackson's life? : musings on 'man in the mirror: the michael jackson story'

proof that the actual michael is a better actor than the guy who portrayed him in an actual film...

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i saw this little film on ebay for a couple of bucks, so i decided to get it, figuring that ANOTHER item on mike won't do any harm, especially if it's gonna assist me in writing my book. i try to look at information from as many sources as i can get; it's possible that you can always learn something new...

but, dear lord, what convinced me to sit there for 86 minutes and think this 'man in the mirror' film was going to somehow improve, from the incredibly atrocious opening?

'man in the mirror: the michael jackson story' was released in 2004 (in the midst of mike's second trial) and funded by Canadian money. the director, Allan Moyle, is also Canadian. on the u.s. end, it was promoted by VH1, and released on DVD by paramount; both VH1 (of which the mother network is MTV) and paramount are owned by Viacom. watching this, i was not expecting a TV movie- but i should have known better, given that the most obvious (VH1 promotion, as well as production from public Canadian organisations) existed. the result of all this money funding this film, if you will, was a shoddily-put together piece, which chronologically and factually, made NO SENSE half of the time. a director with a least a BIT of credit like Allan Moyle (who directed 'pump up the volume', a film i only vaguely remember, but know it's got some cult status) should have known better.
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if i was to sit here and pick out every little thing about this film, THAT would actually be the book i could publish, instead of the one i am working on... i don't expect every little detail to exist (we've got to still have some sort of dramatic leeway), but if a film is going to be somewhat convincing, there needs to be some true research done...

The film opens with a young Michael (played by Brennan Gademans) sitting outside the steps of his house, gazing at the young, blond, white children playing outside. This very scene is quite interesting, as in all the things i have read about life in Gary, Indiana when Michael was growing up there- was that his neighborhood was predominately black. nevertheless, this was not a huge problem, as far as i could see. those children were not essentially crucial to the plot, especially since there was no basic explanation of his life surrounding this moment. all we see is that Joe, his father, screams at him to get back in the house. and THIS is where the faux pas sets in... in only the beginning of scenes which chronologically jumps ahead of itself- in this particular scene where Michael is STILL A CHILD, Joe has a set of 80s wet curls.

The casting choices are abominable... Gademans looked nothing like the adolescent Michael. Even worse, Samantha Banton looked even less like 'Diana Ross'. Most of the characters played such a minimal part in the film, that casting felt like a second thought. 'Diana' was the first face Michael saw in his ruminations. She advised him to never give up his dreams, and that during his journeys of superstardom he will be hurt. This is all you see of 'Diana'- her face taking up the screen. Her character was not fleshed out at all; which is a shame, considering she is a significant part of the narrative that makes Michael into the person he became. Berry Gordy was not even part of this narrative. And with that, neither was Steeltown Records, the Jackson 5's first label. Obviously.

Michael's adult character is now played by Flex Alexander; he is way too stocky to be playing someone as incredibly thin as Michael Joseph Jackson. Alexander hovers over other characters, and seems large simply due to his height and size. He never captured the nuances which make the real-life Michael larger than life, despite his smallness. Alexander spent too much time in Michael's 'childlike' space, never capturing his bullish business acumen, control of his image or stubbornness when it comes to it. We never see the actual journey to the road of becoming 'the King Of Pop'. The film jumps to Michael's relationship with 'Ziggy', a short, seemingly Italian man who is a fictional persona of MJ's notorious first manager after Joe Jackson was let go by his son- Frank Dileo. Michael's relationship with Ziggy (Peter Onorati- of course looking not a thing like stout, real-life Dileo) felt indecisive, when a relationship with Dileo was reportedly anything but.

One interesting note on the film is that there is a scene where Joesph (Frederick Tucker, who DID actually kind of look like Joe later in life) is cleaning a gun. In the book 'Michael Jackson Unauthorized', which may be where this scene was inspired by), it was noted that Joseph slept with a gun under his pillow, as well as pulled a gun out on his children from time to time. The 'gun under the pillow' statement was relayed by Michael in the film. Joe's response was to flare up at Michael and call him 'big nose', and that he had better to the Pepsi commercial with his brothers... These scenes (which run a span of less than five minutes) alter so quickly without warning. We never see how Michael is shaped by life in the J5, how he asserted his independence with 'Off The Wall', and how he actually became a phenomenon by the time of the release of 'Thriller'. And no, Quincy Jones is not in the picture either.

When Joe chastises his son for having a 'big nose', at this point in Michael's career, his nose was much smaller than the nose of Alexander, who is playing Michael... And at that point, many of the family members got nose jobs. And let's not mention Katherine, played here by Patricia Idlette. She looks nothing like Katherine. Her character, interestingly enough, was unlike the reserved mother the children so revered. Katherine is no saint, obviously, but here, you did see more of her playing a role in leading Michael into career choices he did not necessarily want to make (such as the Pepsi commercial and the 'Victory' tour).

And let's stick to this 'Victory' tour for a second. This was clearly a pivotal moment in Michael's true artistic independence and distinction, and this movie treats it in a trivial manner. This was the time of the infamous 'ticket lottery' controversy- where a single letter from a young fan caused Michael to openly advocate putting a stop to the process, which led people to pay $120 for four tickets, without knowing whether or not they were going to even get to see the show. This was the time where the brothers each got their own managers and lawyers, and Michael publicly disowned any associations with Don King, the promoter of the tour. And no, Don King is not here either. The only scene we see is Michael, on stage, telling the band to stop the music, so he could announce that he was performing his last show with his brothers- and even This scene was done shabbily. What actually happens is that he tells the band to bring down the music, but not stop it... You could definitely sense the frustration in his voice when he addresses the audience. I never caught that with the film version; I found that Mike's decision to not perform with his brothers again was not taken seriously, with all the laughing and smiling. Alexander as Michael did not take charge of the stage, and he seemed as lost in it as his filmic brothers (who were secondary characters; so secondary that they were not even introduced individually). Mike, in the film, states them by name in this scene, but in the actual Dodger Stadium concert he does not do this, as he's informing everyone at that moment of his decision to leave his brothers. He opens his declaration of independence with "Listen up." To make sure EVERYBODY is listening. "Ya'll have been wonderful, it's been a LONG 20 years..." This is perhaps the most important statement regarding his initial retirement from the Jacksons (even more than the statement itself of leaving), and it was severely missing from the film's dialog. Mike's sighs, his stomps of defiance as well as the stress on the word 'long' are imperative to person Michael became. "...And we love you all." He says this in the tone of a man who is just plain tired of the life he's led.

And the Pepsi commercial... Why is Michael wearing a white armband in 1984? didn't the armband first start appearing with some regularity around the time of 'Dangerous'? Couldn't a little fact checking exist, in some of the money allocated to produce this film?

Here is the moment we meet Dr. Arnold Klein (or 'Dr. Goodman', played by Dan Libman) with Debbie Rowe (April Telek). Here is also the moment we are introduced to Michael's Vitiligo, the skin condition where one can lose pigmentation in the skin. This is one of the reasons the film fails: the film runs various situations (like Mike's Vitiligo) so rapidly, as if the only people watching it are those who already know something about his life. A film's objective should be to grab people who may not know about the subject or characters involved. The film moves so quickly, it's impossible to identify with anyone. With this, Dr. Goodman and Debbie give Michael some sort of drug. Is there a possibility that that drug could be retin-a? Or could it be hydroquinone? If one has Vitiligo, it's not that surprising that that drug would be an option. However, it's a curious thing to think that someone uses the same chemicals that are used in photo developer for the largest organ on the body. Nonetheless, the drug given to Michael in this film will remain mysterious.

It's also curious to see Debbie Rowe be so starstruck, when she appears to be a no-nonsense kind of person.

The WORST casting decision in this film has GOT to be Barbara Mamabolo as Janet Jackson (and yes, she was the only sibling who played a significant role in the film). Mike called her 'Tink' in the film (to her calling him 'Peter')- this is funny, because 'Tink' is awfully close to 'Donk', which Michael actually called his sister. 'Donk' is short for 'Donkey'. He's called her 'Donk' on national television, when she made an appearance on the Jacksons' 1977 show, amongst other times. But let's get technical here: With Mamabolo playing Janet, where did Janet get all that hair from? Janet's hair was NEVER that long (until Janet discovered the massive hair weave). Janet's hair was thick and hanging over her shoulders, like La Toya's hair. The actual Janet was never as flighty as the character in the film. She learned from her brother on how to take control of her career, and to not compromise.

About Janet in relation to this film- There is a scene where Michael (still living at Havenhurst around the time of 'Bad' here) runs into Janet's room (with her husband James (DeBarge, ya'll)) and shows a picture book of where he is moving to- Neverland! It has been noted in several sources that Michael has barged into Janet and James' room, but those sources claim that it was not as happy a moment as was displayed in the film. It should also be noted that by the time Michael moved on to Neverland, Janet and James were long since divorced. 'James' (i cannot find the actor's name right now) was also MUCH darker than DeBarge actually is; the fictional James was distinctively black, whereas Debarge is half-white, and even looks Puerto Rican.

There is 'Bobby' (Eugene Clark), who appears to be a sort of assistant to Michael throughout his life; however, Bobby in my view represents the stereotypical black character whose role is simply to protect the helpless white character. Of course Michael is black, but he is displayed in so innocuous and childlike a fashion that he has no control over his career or life- alas, the stereotypical female white character. Is Michael emasculated here? I would not go that far; however, I do feel that which makes Michael such a compelling character and cultural figure is sorely missing in this film's representation of him. Ultimately, 'Bobby' could be an alter ego for Bill Bray, Michael's long-time head of security. Bray had been with Michael since he was in the Jackson 5, and was a longtime confidante.

And Elizabeth Taylor. Liz (Lynne Cormack) was so plain and was the straight woman to the actual Taylor's campy outrageousness.
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...And so, we have now travelled to the land which is 'Dangerous', in which the hair is chronologically correct, but our man Mike is STILL dark, and he's got the same nose he started out with in the film... Here is where we also encounter a pivotal moment in his life, where he fires 'Ziggy', or Dileo. A representation of Branca, his lawyer, remains at the peripheral in the film; when in fact Branca was an integral part of the decisions Michael made, such as the acquisition of ATV publishing in 1985. In this film, Bobby was his security, his advisor and his best friend. If Michael asked Bill Bray for counsel in terms of firing Dileo, we (or at least I) will never know. But as this film stands, he did. And of course, Bobby had a right to be concerned if HE was going to be fired.

Before you know it, we are introduced to what has become classically known as 'the beginning of Michael's troubles'. The film introduces us to a maid and her son, which I assume is supposed to be a dramatic take on Jason and Blanca Francia, who accused Michael of inappropriate behaviour. They disappear from the storyline after they exit Neverland, luggage in tow, when the mother finds Michael and her son together, under a homemade tent. We are then introduced to 'Adam Thomas' (Brian Martel) and HIS son (who I assume are Evan Chandler and his son Jordan; there was mention of a certain screenplay in the film, and the Chandlers wrote the screenplay to 'Robin Hood: Men In Tights'). And soon after that, we are introduced to 'David' (Aidan Wilks), who is a fictional account of Gavin Arviso.
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There must not have been enough money allocated for our man Alexander's make-up job, because it just looked like they placed a bunch of powder over him; the send-up of Eddie Murphy as a white man on Saturday Night Live in the 80s was done more effectively. By the point in the film Alexander had the white make-up on, Michael's photos had him looking as white as a sheet half the time. In the film, Mike's hands were still significantly dark. The scene of Michael in the English treatment centre for drug addiction was pretty funny. Was Michael truly that open amongst the other residents of the facility? I would think that in this most vulnerable time (right after the initial accusations of child molestation), he would be especially guarded.
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The adult meeting and consummation of marriage of Michael and Lisa Marie Presley (Krista Rae) was fairly unbelievable, to say the least. The film did not discuss that Lisa Marie was married with children, when she and Michael met in adulthood. In the film, Bobby (the only loyal character in Mike's life, of course) makes an arrangement to set them up, once again emphasizing our protagonist's (if you will) innocuousness, in 'real life' or adult matters. Here, Bobby actually does project those general perceptions of Michael, which many others project as well: that he (or anyone else) is not a 'real man' unless he's had a few notches on his belt. Bobby seems driven to get Michael to lose his virginity (this is not just assumed in the film; Michael even said that he 'doesn't have sex before marriage' in a scene with Lisa Marie). Why it's so important for Michael to lose his virginity; why it's such a focal point for so many interviewers and members of the public, I'm not too sure. I would think that when he is ready to have sex (whether or not he is a virgin), he would have sex. And it would be none of our business.

The way he asked Lisa Marie to marry him was actually quite tasteless, and in my perceptions of Michael (and yes, in documents I have read), it is not how I would see him doing it. In an attempt to 'normalize' Michael, and to place him in a more 'adult' role, he was given a love/sex scene with Lisa Marie. I am not fond of sex scenes, so I fast forwarded this one. I will add that, despite the emphasis of how 'un-normal' Michael is in the scheme of things, this was probably one of the most 'normal' environments he was placed in. I do not know the depths of the histories of Mike and Lisa Marie's sex life; nor do I WANT to know. But watching what was leading up to this scene (where Michael states that he does not have sex before marriage, then has sex with Lisa Marie after he gives her a ring and she accepts) actually was a bit offensive, as it demoralized both Lisa Marie and Michael's humanity. if I wanted to see a sex scene of that caliber I'd just rent any old Hollywood romance movie.

I also highly doubt that their impending divorce was that amicable either... It was obvious they loved each other, but you are bound to have, with two extremely strong-willed people as they, some all-out screaming. When Lisa Marie went to announce that she wanted a divorce from Michael in the hospital as he lay there; I am pretty sure the scenery was not as calm as the fictional account. What makes Michael so compelling is his intensity, and the fact that he's no innocent angel. It's impossible to be, and get at the level he got to.

The point where Alexander began to look the most like Michael was toward the last act of the film. His hair, suddenly straightened and in his face, was easier to obscure which was cosmetically impossible to alter for this one role. And here is where we are introduced to Debbie Rowe again; however, she is, like most people in this film, NOT a pivotal character. She appeared to be more in the picture of Michael's life before she had his children, if not by much. She simply gives birth to Prince and Paris (Brooklynn Proulx), then she is gone.

Two issues I have (out of the tons I am not mentioning) are that Paris' hair is not as blond as her brothers'; In the film both children's hair runs a golden blond. Also, in the scene where there is a reinactment of the 2001 30th anniversary concert in New York City, Michael is wearing white denims (with no belt), and his hair is fairly short-cropped to his head (the length of his ears). In the film he is wearing some sort of cotton fabric trousers with a gold-sequined belt), and his hair is fuller. If you are going to do a reinactment, things are NOT going to be perfect, but the least the producers could have done was get some sort of consultant, or MJ impersonator. You want the characters to be somewhat convincing.

The most convincing 'Michael' looked was when he was reinacting the infamous 'There's nothing wrong with sharing your bed... it's the most loving thing you can do' scene in the 'Living With Michael Jackson' 'documentary', hosted by Martin Bashir (played here with a little less venom than the actual Bashir, by Cedric DeSouza). Simply, this was the character Alexander portrayed during the whole film- a neverending mixture of naivite and playfulness.
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'The Man In The Mirror' makes attempts to wrap this untangled coil of a film into a moral tale of reaching for your dreams, and looking within yourself before you judge someone else: this case is all-too evident with its final scene of Michael getting on top of the SUV he was riding in and staring into the sky, eventually merging into a series of different faces of various ethnicities and interests (you got FACIAL PIERCINGS AND TATTOOS up in here, ya'll!)... I could not help but think of the very end of Spike Lee's interpretation of Malcolm X's life. I was getting ready to stand up and yell "I'M Michael Jackson!" at the top of my lungs at 5 in the morning...

However, the goal of this film (which on the back of the case states is to "(track) Jackson's complicated rise to superstardom- where he came from, how it shaped him, the impact he made on pop culture, and most importantly, who the MAN IN THE MIRROR really is.") falls quite short, since we, as the viewer, were never able to see where he came from, and the people who shaped him; since all the characters we simply minor players in a very major narrative.