So the king is dead. What a sad end to a sad life; a pathetic end to a pathetic life (by which I mean to use pathetic in its true sense as “arousing pity and sympathy). I don’t know that I have ever seen, in one man, such a combination of self-love and self-loathing, shocking narcissism combined with equally shocking self-hatred….
Jackson was in so many ways a product of this sick celebrity culture (that he helped create) that will never rest satisfied until it has both created and then destroyed the newest celebrity. We want our celebrities to start strong and finish weak, to begin with a bang and then fizzle, pop and sputter, all for our enjoyment and entertainment (Susan Boyle stands as the most recent example of this). Jackson gave us so much to talk about, so much to enjoy. More than any other celebrity he embodied the “vanities” of Ecclesiastes. He was at one time known for what he did so well and then was known for being a freak; he was at one time fantastically wealthy and then utterly broke; he was once loved and then despised. He had it all and yet, it seemed, he had nothing. All of it was meaningless, a chasing after the wind. Tim Challies
To see Jackson over the years is to see the chronicle of a man who did not take his pain and sin to the Cross, and instead of experiencing God’s regenerating grace, attempted his own handmade makeover. It was sad, tragic, and painful to watch….
What Jackson did to himself is what we all do to ourselves outside of Christ. The difference is that Jackson’s failed attempts were all worn obviously, in public view, on the changing tapestry of his face, while we may mask ours better. Dan Phillips
