Wednesday, July 08, 2009

The funeral...

Michael Jackson's.
I watched some of it - I wasn't going to, but I did. Overall, it was well done - it never became the spectacle I expected. (Well, Mariah Carey was inappropriately dressed, but she always is.) Some aspects of the program were sad to the point of disturbing - a couple of times I had to leave the room, finally, I just stopped watching. It creeped me out. 'The guy is dead and this is a performance,' I thought.
The service was so emotion driven, and at times insipidly sweet, it felt oppressive. An unhealthy sense of nostalgia or melancholy seemed to permeate every aspect of the event. It seemed so superficial, so secular, so earth-bound, and terribly pretentious. I felt a sense of spiritual nothingness, a vacuous emptiness while I watched the performance.
I came away from the funeral coverage a bit sobered by the strangeness of the event, yet feeling great pity for his children.
I don't want to hear another Michael Jackson song, news report, eulogy, ever again.


  1. "I don't want to hear another Michael Jackson song, news report, eulogy, ever again."

    Hear, hear.

    Avoid Vox Nova!

  2. I kept thinking about the hyprocracy (sp?) of it all. Jesus this and Jesus that and the assumption of Michaels return to heaven. I thought where was all of this Jesus talk when he was alive?

    Throw in a death and everyone religious's- up all of a sudden. It makes me sick.

    ( I love Smokey Robinson though he seemed sincere about his love for Christ. Misguided but sincere.)


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