LONDON (AP) — Michael Jackson has announced a series of London concerts in July.
Thursday's announcement was greeted by thousands of people at London's O2 arena, where the concerts will be staged. Jackson didn't specify how many shows he'll play, though posters have shown he's booked for 10 dates.
The only way I'd pay to see this mess would be if the ticket price included a ride in a DeLorean during which Doc would kick up that motherfucking flux capacitor to 88 and take my ass back to well, '88.
And I say this as a Michael Jackson fan. I was wacko for Jacko when I was a kid. His posters lined my walls, I had a Michael Jackson microphone into which I would warble my favourite MJ songs and yes, I had a sparkly silver glove as well. I remember getting into a passionate argument with one of my little friends about who loved Michael more. Salty drops fell out of my eyes when he was burned shooting the Pepsi commercial. I have the hour-long Making of Thriller on VHS. As an adult (and I use that term loosely) some friends and I formed an unofficial Michael Jackson appreciation society, the MJ Mafia. We had chapters in Ontario, Manitoba and Alberta. A failed attempt to spread into Saskatchewan resulted in an interesting incident in a hotel room bathroom involving an RCMP officer, an officer who would later refer to us as 'lunatics.' But that's a whole other story. The point is, my love of Michael runs deep.
So it's from a place of love that I say, Michael Jackson, the inventor of the moonwalk, the music video pioneer, the amazing entertainer, is dead. My Michael Jackson Beat It outta here in 1991, after the release of Dangerous and before the first round of chid molestation allegations surfaced. In his place is this plastic surgery-addicted, creepy, out-of-touch-with-reality caucasian manwoman child-touching freakshow. Seeing Michael Jackson in concert now would just be a sad and painful reminder of how far he has fallen. I wouldn't see these upcoming shows if someone offered me a free ticket. No thank you. I do not wanna be startin' something with this impostor. Instead I'll stay at home, put on my MJ Mafia t-shirt and listen to either Off The Wall or Thriller and pour out some of my 40 on the sidewalk in honour of my dearly departed Jacko. And that sidewalk my friends, would light up Billy Jean-style.
This is one of the posters I had on my wall...le sigh.....
Michael Jackson
1958 - 1991
1 comment:
I hope you will confess that this MJ dissing is based on dissing being funnier than sending love and props, or to dissuade people from going so that there will be more tix available for the rest of us chumps who have no chance in hell of getting them. Despite the obvious death of the MJ that we know, love, celebrate and respect, I hope that as an MJ Mafia member you would hold onto the hope that despite the never-ending train wreck that the last twenty years have been for him, he would still put on the show that we expect to see chock full of crotch grabbing hee hees and electric moves that send shivers down your spine and if only for one moment it would be as if we had ridden that Delorean and all thoughts of molestation, monkeys, baby dangling and hyperbaric chambers would be gone like an S&R magic trick. It has been my life long dream to see MJ in concert and I have always maintained that I would use my life savings to make it happen in Nigeria, Cambodia, Timbucktoo, the moon - wherever - just to say I lived this. Of course, I didn't ever think the opportunity would actually present itself and now that I don't actually have any life savings, I must re-think the feasibility of this proclamation. This is like a dream come true for me, however it is also like the anti-dream in that it is still not likely to result in me realizing my dream. Salt, meet wounds.
Post a Comment