I'm sure everyone knows it at this point, but Michael Jackson passed away this afternoon. I heard about it almost as soon as it happened, but have been out all day and unable to write. Being away for a while gave me some time to let the thoughts percolate, though. I've kept my feelings about him bottled up for several years, and I feel like if any
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And I rather hope your words get wide circulation within furrydom- there are critics of/within it who could also stand to learn that "childlike" doesn't necessarily equal "perverted."
It is one of life's invariable ironies that it so often takes a loss for us to learn something important...
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When the sheet came down, revealing the actual man, I started crying. I know enough of his life, enough of the things he fled from into endless practice of his art, enough of how art can become both an escape and a trap if you're not careful. And it just seemed like such a horrible blow.
I was never a fan of his stuff; I was moving away from highly-polished pop music during his heyday. But every time I've seen video of him working, I stop, and I stare. Because that man could dance. Watching him perform, even on a shitty Youtube copy of a mediocre dub of a VHS tape, is watching someone celebrate being alive.
And now he'll never do that again.
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I didn't really have a childhood either, and I soon realized that my thoughts and behavior where parallel to a lot of the social behaviors of infantilism. I surround myself with plushies and seek out nothing but joy and love from everyone. I think Michael was doing the same thing, and I resented the fact that he was accused of anything so malicious as child abuse.
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