I don't know if it's a side effect of growing up, or if it's because I just never cared that much about crazy celebrities antics to start with. But as much as I tried, I couldn't call up much grief over MJ's death. In recent years, he had fallen too far from grace; the headlines over his child molestation charges were too disturbing and deeply entrenched to erase - even with the flood tide of sympathetic condolences and memorials. There are other sins, it seems, that all of neptune's oceans just cannot wash away.
The best quote I read about him was from his lawyer who said (and I paraphrase) -
His death did not come as a surprise. He was someone so uncomfortable with the norms of this world and no human being can withstand that kind of stress for a prolonged period.
There are other more pressing issues, personal and otherwise and I don't have the headspace for MJ's death. My spare headspace today is taken up with the question of how to reduce my use of plastic - bags, containers and otherwise. I don't think I've progressed enough since deciding to live in a more earth friendly way last year - and that worries me. But when reading Paul Krugman's article on the passing of the climate change bill, I remembered that my first ever single was - appropriately enough - MJ's Heal the World.
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