Friday 26 June 2009

A Dying Breed - The Day He Lost His Boogie

Celebrities, pop-stars (pop-tarts), superstars, they have always seemed like such an invincible breed. Capable of anything while freed from the associated ramifications. The ramifications of life, of jumping off a cliff, of having way to much collagen pumped, of a non-existent food-intake.. and the list goes on. Of course our warped perception and voyeuristic attitude toward these super-humans have as much to do with the movies they produce as it does with the 'news' the glossies (print, TV and broadcast) decide to feed us.

We mere mortals can not help but become slaves to the news-feeds that evade our aural space; infiltrating our thoughts and ideas. These so-called 'celebrities' wave to us through the television, laugh and blow us raspberries from the red carpet and are 'ever' so grateful for our love and support.

Oh no wait, how does it go? 'I'd like to thank god and all of my fans, because without you, none of this would be possible'. Oh yea, so there is god too, but mostly it's us.

We (secretly) look up to them: We adore the way they dress and in-turn create copy-cat versions (see the 1001 fashion copy adoration sites - oh Kate you're such an inspiration; unwashed hair, mini-shorts and gumboots, now why didn't I think of that!)

We print off their photos or rip them out of magazines, only to whip them out at the hairdresser. Make me look like Jennifer Aniston! We frequently save them to our computer desktop, oh Giselle why can't my girlfriend be as sexy as you?

[Buy her some tan-in-a-can and pay for a 'small' breast augmentation and you're half way there!]

And then.. as we wait, with baited breathe, for their next unpredictable move; new hair-cut, new beau, new career (see Joaquin Phoenix), they go and die on us...

They die and with their withering bodies, their incredibly built-up persona comes crashing down. What about the new haircut? I thought after that it was a shoe-in! She seemed so happy with her fourth husband; things were definitely looking up for her! At least that's what E! News told me. Was it all a lie? Oh Ryan Seacrest are you capable of such follies?


Recently,it seems they're dropping like flies. These inspirational muses who we try to replicate, personify, perhaps even clone(?) Calling Top Shop. On Thursday morning, Charlie's Angel Farrah Fawcett passed away and so too did Michael Jackson. After suffering from a a drug over-dose the 'king of pop'- had no more left to give, leaving behind three children, a musical legacy and a few thousand ticket holders.


The gates that did their best to hide the life of a tierd superstar.


M.J had 50 summer concerts planned in London through August at the O2 Arena, a hugely anticipated series that was expected to resurrect the star’s career and earn him an estimated 50 million U.S dollars. The shows were to begin July 13 2009 but the majority of them were pushed back to March 2010. The Jackson camp cited 'the challenges presented by such a large and technically complex concert' as the reason and insisted that the star was in good health. Fans were skeptical and if there were ever a time to say 'I told you so,' now would be it. Instead Facebook and Twitter walls are crowded with messages of praise and admiration.

All the ridicule that once clouded the news articles, has now been replaced with those presenting Jackson as a juggernaut amongst his contemporaries and congratulating 'the king of pop' on his successful career. Ironically death seems to bring out the best in people.. and although I do not want to humanise the media, I will say that there are times, such as this when even the media respond in a respectful manner. Nevertheless, this too shall pass and in a day or so articles will surface questioning the fate of the children M.J left behind and that lingering debt.. The debt that could have quite possibly been erased with the 450 million U.S dollars the singer was to make from his 'This is it' global tour.

Unfortunately for the little brother of the Jackson 5, this really was it.



R.I.P

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I am more than prone to monologues; however, this is solely due to the manner in which they compliment a witty anecdote and their ability to resemble concrete evidence when it is so obviously lacking. I often wish I could emulate that aloof character who coolly stands in the corner smiling mysteriously as if she has a secret. However, I fear resisting the temptation to involve myself in other people’s conflicts and responding through body language rather than verbose banter may come across as contrived and arrogant. And, I am not willing to take that chance.

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