Since odes/laments to Michael Jackson are all the rage now, I suppose I will chime in with my own meager and makeshift words.
I have so many little mundane memories about Michael Jackson. I suppose most everyone does. Now is the time we can gather them all up and make grander assessments about what Michael Jackson has taught us about life.
For me, I learned that fantasy – in which sidewalks light up when you step on them and whales fly over your head – is far preferable to the constant disappointment of reality.
I also learned that I don’t really want to live in Los Angeles, especially not a mansion/amusement park/zoo in Los Angeles. My imagination is grandiose but perhaps not that grandiose & seeks a slightly more old-fashioned city like New York. Werner Herzog (♥) says he lives in Los Angeles for its substance and collective dreams, but I wouldn’t, and couldn’t, survive. Just like Michael Jackson…? (Up for debate)
Though, it would be kind of cool to have a zoo in my backyard.
Moreover, I learned that small actions that are respectful of other countries & cultures (and saying things like “I like bimbimbap” every once in awhile) are probably more important in creating global unity than what politicians can do.
Furthermore, I learned – perhaps unforgivingly late – that sparkly items of clothing are preferable to non-sparkly items of clothing.
And lastly, I learned that it’s better & far more remarkable to flounder around in search of an undiscoverable self – flirting with eccentricity and loneliness – than it is to attain a handful of yawn-inducing adjectives.
RIP.
