It’s sad how this ending mirrors so many endings before it. The meteoric rise to fame. The quick fall from superstar to laughing stock to object of morbid curiosity. And then the death scene, complete with mysterious handlers, enablers, doctors and assorted hangers-on.
There was a long stretch of time, roughly corresponding to my college years (‘82-’86), when Michael Jackson wasn’t just everywhere, he was Everywhere. It’s become cliche to say there will never be another moment like that again, but I really doubt there will ever be another performer who could stop the World quite like he did in those years.
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