The Lonely Goatherd Blog And before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats - Matthew 25:32
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Al Barger and MoreThings - getting people's goats since 1998.
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January 16, 2004
Michael Jackson as Norma Desmond Michael Jackson fascinates me at this point. What in the world could he possibly be thinking with his continuing shenanigans, such as ridiculous extravagant self-serving transparent lies that he was telling Ed Bradley Christmas Day? Then on top of that, STILL insisting there's nothing wrong with sleeping with young boys?
Watching the little carnival he whipped up for his first court appearance (1-16-04), the feelings of wonderment deepen. He made a point of busing in hundreds of fans to cheer him in court before going to Neverland for a big party. What conceivable legal strategy could he even THINK he was serving by making the judge wait while Jackson is outside basking in the artificially generated love from his crowd of extras?
Watching him slowly and methodically self-destructing, I started thinking about Sunset Blvd. Holy Jebus, Michael Jackson has turned into Norma Desmond! He's conjured up this big scenario of either commiting very bad crimes or going to some great lengths to make us all think that he has. Diddling a sick boy has to rate several rungs lower in patheticness below Norma Desmond's relatively clean crime of passion, though.
He seems to be just that desperate for the spotlight. Like Norma, his bright star has faded. They're both a generation past their fame. Hell, Britney Spears hadn't been born yet when Thriller came out.
Like Norma, Michael seems to be grasping for those last sparks of public adulation as he self-destructs. He's hired multiple video crews to come film him at the courthouse while he dances on top of cars. If he had any rational thought for his situation, he'd not be making such a huge public mockery of the judge and the whole legal system.
But that doesn't appear to matter to him here. Even as he burns off the last remnants of his career and personal reputation- possibly his very freedom- he's just glad to have the warm glow of everyone looking at HIM in all his wonder. Dancing atop the car, I could almost hear him thinking, "You see, this is my life! It always will be! Nothing else! Just us, the cameras, and those wonderful people out there in the dark!"
I'm just saying that when Michael Jackson calls Mr. DeMille in for that close-up, it's going to be a LOT scarier than a 52 year old Gloria Swanson.
