I was never a huge Michael Jackson fan, partly because I grew up in Canada, and as was the custom in that shithole, I used to listen to old Skinny Puppy records. The only real alternative was Avril Lavigne.
I realize now that I never gave Jackson’s music a fair chance, and this was probably because of my perception of his personality. The race-change operation, combined with widespread suspicion that he was a pervert, ruined it for me. You might say I chose Skinny Puppy not mainly out of national chauvinism, but because they were objectively less bizarre. At least, that’s what I thought, before this week.
Skinny Puppy was before my time… roughly concurrent with Michael Jackson’s solo career in the U.S.. Like Brother Michael, who did his own thing after his departure from the Jackson 5, Skinny Puppy broke up. All the members have solo acts. The one I tend to follow today is OhGr.
In 2011, I bought OhGr’s most recent album. For whatever reason, I ripped it with iTunes but didn’t get around to listening to it. I finally realized I had it kicking around by chance, when I was going through my ipod, on a city bus. The album opens with the 911 call that was made by Jackson’s personal assistant, after our man Michael was already dead at the hands of his dope-peddling doctor. The red flags in that conversation are so numerous that one begins to wonder all sorts of shit.
Press play to pay respects, and listen closely. That call happened exactly nine years ago. It is the stuff that conspiracy theories are made of.
Jackson died at the end of a long and well-publicized court battle, with prosecutors alleging that he had kidnapped and raped a young boy. The jury found Jackson not guilty on all counts. Some time after the trial, his accuser’s mother pled guilty a perjury charge, in connection with another legal action in which the family tried to shake down another celebrity for money. The same family who had attempted to extort a living from the king of pop, also attempted as much with Jay Leno, Chris Tucker, The J.C. Penney corporation, and numerous others.
Despite being a pop star, Jackson was a shy fella with a lifelong interest in religion. He was born a Jehovah’s Witness, but didn’t seem to find that a hindrance to exposure to other ideas. I don’t know whether Jackson ever officially converted to Judaism, but he was friends with a rabbi named Shmuley Boteach (pronounced Bo-tox). Boteach released a book, entitled The Michael Jackson Tapes, in which are transcribed selections of Jackson’s confessions.
In the first place, the book surprised me simply due to its context. I don’t know what Jewish law entails, but if there isn’t a general ethical rule that says a man’s rabbi can’t publish a book containing his confessions, there really ought to be. That aside, Jackson makes a number of stunning observations in the book.
About his abortive 1991 relationship with Madonna, Jackson says…
“She is not a nice person,” Jackson told Boteach. Jackson revealed how he and Madonna had bickered about where they would socialize.
“Madonna laid the law down to me before we went out. [She said] I am not going to Disneyland, OK? That’s out,” Jackson said. “I said, ‘I didn’t ask to go to Disneyland.’
She said, ‘We are going to the restaurant. And afterwards, we are going to a strip bar.’ “I said, ‘I am not going to a strip bar, where they cross dress. … I am not going to there. If that’s how it is, forget this whole thing. … Afterwards, she wrote some mean things about me in the press. And I wrote that she is a nasty witch, after I was so kind to her,” Jackson said.
Apparently Jackson wasn’t degenerate enough to stay in Madonna’s good graces.
(Then again, who is?)
Jackson had some very nuanced ideas about females. He loved women, always speaking well of his mother, and a few other solid sisters he knew personally. Like every decent man should, though, Jackson hated wimminz.
Boteach said Jackson simultaneously held women in reverence and awe yet harbored deep suspicions about their motivations and his perceived their use of sexuality to achieve their goals.
Jackson: “Women can do some things that make guys very unhappy. I see it with my brothers. I see my brothers crying in tears and pulling the grass out of the lawn out of frustration because of their wives.”
Boteach: “Do you think all their wives were interested more in their success than in them?”
Jackson: “Absolutely. They were after their money. That’s why I said to myself, ‘I’ll never be married.’ I held out the longest. I stayed at home until I was 27, 28.”
Boteach: “What was part of the attraction to Lisa Marie? That she had her own money? She had her own fame. You knew it wasn’t about any of that.”
Jackson: “Absolutely. She didn’t take a penny, didn’t want anything.”
Like most child celebrities, raised in the praxis prism which is the typical Hollywood film lot, Jackson came to adulthood with some very serious issues. Be that as it may, he tried to warn us, in his songs, about the dangers of wimminz and feminism. The establishment and its corporate media repaid him for this noble act, by spreading the meme that he was a homosexual pedophile and a dangerous predator. I realize, after doing less than an hour of research, that I had been suckered, like a typical SJW halfwit, into believing this nonsense.
Jackson died of a drug overdose, administered by his shady doctor, who has since been charged with murder. Had our man Michael lived, who knows what truths he would have told…
1958.08.29 (Gary IN) – 2009.06.25 (Los Angeles CA)