I didn't get worked up about the death, but neither did I despise the news about it, at least until yesterday. It's interesting to see how the puppet masters behind Michael managed to generate so much hype about it, causing sales of his music to spike like he was back in his heydays. It's disgusting, too. I just read that there are people in charge thinking of making the This Is It pre- concert rehearsal footage into a movie, among other things, like pay per view shorts. They had over 100 hours of footage, maybe not in preparation for his death (omg conspiracy theory) but in preparation for special edition DVDs.

When I was trying to do some last minute studying yesterday, there were these few girls in my class talking about him, and what I heard went along the lines of this.

"Thriller is so damn cool man."

"Michael's my boyfriend, stay away from him!"

I think these type of women don't actually know they are buying into the whole artificial hype. They do it subconsciously, not as a conscious effort to see and be seen, because such a culture has been ingrained into society with the gracious assistance of the unforgiving media. Being in the loop is what the whole concept of news is, but this is not news any longer, this is a popularity contest. Mind you, not one for Michael, but one for all the people going around sharing his death and finding new life in his music.

What I realised was that, in finding fault with the way his death has been heavily publicised, the same thing also did happen to other famous people, like Elvis. I didn't and don't think those people are mindless followers, so why do I think these pseudo Michael fans are now? I don't know. I think its just that the way I see all this first hand makes me recoil in disgust.

Take for example, how this guy on television felt that, with his death, "Michael was going to create a revolutionary change in the music industry. It will never be the same again." Trust the whites to be full of bombastic bouts of verbal spasms. Also, take this instance when, on another day, where I again was trying frantically to catch up before the exam, two minahs came up the staircase and emerged in the corridor, blasting a song by the man himself. And, possibly as another attempt to be in the 'know', a friend next to me commented, "Isn't that the song ____ by Michael Jackson?"

Yes, it is. Want to know another thing? He's not the only one who recieves my sympathy.

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