MICHAEL JACKSON’S NAME ON DISPLAY AGAIN AT GARDNER SCHOOL AUDITORIUM
Elementary School’s Most Famous Alum Recognized for His Musical Legacy

October 15, 2010

Los Angeles — The silver, foot-high letters gleam once again, proclaiming The Michael Jackson Auditorium at Gardner Street Elementary School in Hollywood. It is the last public school attended by Jackson—then an 11-year-old sixth grader—who was the lead in a singing group with his brothers. Three months after school started, Motown released their debut album “Diana Ross Presents the Jackson 5.” And, the young entertainer was on his way to becoming an international star.

“It’s important for the District to value the artistic impact and humanitarian contribution that will be the lasting legacy of Michael Jackson,” said Los Angeles School Board member Steven Zimmer. “I’m happy that we will be recognizing and appreciating Michael’s LAUSD moment.”

The sign was originally unveiled at the then newly-refurbished auditorium in 1989. However, when the King of Pop was charged with child molestation, the sign was covered with layered board. For the record, the entertainer was never convicted. After his death last year fans began a campaign to have his name revealed.

At the direction of Los Angeles Unified School District Superintendent Ramon C. Cortines, the tribute was uncovered today.

“In recognition of Michael Jackson’s musical legacy and contribution to modern culture I have directed our maintenance and operations department to remove the layered board covering the tribute to Mr. Jackson at Gardner Street Elementary School in Hollywood,” said LAUSD Superintendent Ramon Cortines.

Los Angeles Unified School District Press Release

Michael Jackson: It’s Time For Outlets to Take Responsibility in Covering the Rock Star
By Charles Thomson
The Huffington Post, March 2, 2010

Last week Michael Jackson’s guitarist discredited widely reported allegations about the star’s behaviour on the road. So why is the media refusing to publish her comments? British writer Charles Thomson explores media bias against black music’s biggest star.

Aging glam-rocker Gene Simmons made international headlines last month when he claimed to know that Michael Jackson had molested children. In an interview with Classic Rock, Simmons alleged that Jackson was on tape ordering alcohol for children and that during the star’s 2005 trial a travel agent had testified to importing Brazilian boys for Jackson’s amusement. He also claimed that a musician friend had quit a Jackson tour after seeing ‘boys coming out of the hotel rooms.’

What followed was a classic example of copy and paste journalism. Within hours the story had been duplicated by hundreds of blogs, forums and news websites from Australia to India to the USA. None of them had fact-checked the story before they re-hosted it. Jackson was never on tape ordering alcohol for children. There was never any testimony during his trial about young Brazilian boys. Both of these claims were easily disproven by trial transcripts.

As a relative Jackson expert, I was also unaware of any musician ever leaving one of the singer’s tours midway through. So when I sat down a fortnight ago for an interview with Jackson’s long serving tour guitarist Jennifer Batten, I ran the story by her.

She told me that no musician had ever quit a Jackson tour. Two musicians had been fired but both were let go before the show hit the road, so they couldn’t possibly have witnessed anything going on inside hotels.

When Sawf News published Batten’s rebuttal I observed an all too familiar phenomenon. Although the story appeared on Google News and was picked up fairly swiftly by the Examiner, nobody else seemed willing to touch it. Whilst Simmons’s speculative and ultimately baseless accusations had been reproduced the world over, Batten’s expert rebuttal was being suppressed.

I soon began receiving emails from Jackson’s fans telling me that they were sending the story to every celebrity news outlet they could think of, including several of those which published Simmons’s initial allegations.

But more than 48 hours later, typing an exact quote from Simmons’s rant into a search engine produced almost 350 webpages. The number of news outlets hosting Batten’s rebuttal? Three.

This was not the first time I’d had a Jackson story suppressed. After Evan Chandler’s suicide in November 2009 I was contacted by the Sun and asked to supply information about the 1993 allegations. I spent quite some time compiling my research, advising the newspaper of common myths and how to avoid them, being careful to source all of my facts from legal documents and audio/visual evidence.

When I read the finished article I was stunned to find that all of my information had been discarded and replaced with the very myths I had advised them to avoid. I alerted staff to the inaccuracies but my emails were not replied. The same inaccuracies appeared in every single article I read about the suicide.

The same bias manifested itself the following month when Jackson’s FBI file was released. Across more than 300 pages of information there was not one piece of incriminating evidence—but that’s not the way the media told it.

A videotape seized at customs in West Palm Beach and analysed for child pornography was repeatedly referred to as belonging to Jackson. In actuality, files stated merely that the tape was ‘connected’ to Jackson and that connection appeared simply to be that somebody had written his name on the sticky label.

In another document the FBI logged a telephone call from a tipster claiming that the bureau had investigated Jackson during the 1980s for molesting two Mexican boys. The files made no other mention of the supposed investigation and the claim was ascribed no validity—the call was merely noted. But the media persistently referred to the anonymous tipster’s unsupported allegations as the FBI’s own conclusions.

Jackson’s FBI file overwhelmingly supported his innocence but its contents were routinely manipulated to give the opposite impression.

Many are quick to scoff when Jackson’s fans speak of a media conspiracy to destroy the star’s reputation and I used to scoff with them. As a member of the industry I prefer not to think of it as sinister and conspiratorial, but I find it increasingly difficult to explain away the bias with which Jackson is treated.

I wonder whether the problem is pride. When the 1993 allegations broke, the vast majority of information available was released, either officially or unofficially, by the prosecution. Jackson, meanwhile, remained characteristically silent.

Perhaps because the prosecution’s version of events went almost completely unchallenged (although I imagine that drama and selling newspapers had something to do with it, too), the media primarily chose to portray Jackson as guilty.

But as the facts started to trickle out it became increasingly apparent that the case was full of holes. The allegations had been instigated not by the boy but by his father, who had demanded a scriptwriting deal from Jackson before he went to the police. He was on tape plotting to destroy Jackson’s career and dismissing his son’s wellbeing as ‘irrelevant’. Then the boy told cops that Jackson was circumcised, but a police body search concluded that he was not.

Although Jackson’s innocence looked increasingly likely, most news outlets had made their bed and to this day they seem unwilling to do anything but lie in it.

Whatever the motivation, be it pride, profit or plain old racism, the bias against Jackson is undeniable. The suppression of Batten’s comments proves once more than when it comes to Jackson the media is interested not in fact or reason but negativity and sensationalism. Batten accompanied Jackson on all three of his world tours and was known for a decade as his ‘right hand woman’. But Simmons—who self-confessedly did not know Jackson—has been given over 100 times more media coverage for his inaccurate ranting than Batten has for her firsthand experience.

It is time for outlets to assume responsibility for their own content. Websites should not re-host other publishers’ stories unless they can be completely certain that the content is factual. Even if the media refuses to print the truth about Jackson, they should compromise by not printing the lies either. At least that way he can rest in peace.

Charles Thomson, The Huffington Post

From an interview with Wesley Snipes
Originally published at Collider.com
Jordan Tubiolo
March 2, 2010

Q: While we have you alone for a few moments, did you know that they are turning a Brooklyn subway station into a tribute to Michael Jackson for the “Bad” video?

WS: I heard about that, through the grapevine, yeah. That’s cool. That would be cool.

Q: What are your memories of shooting that video in the subway station?

WS: That was…yeah…the amazing thing was that I was only supposed to be on the film, or project, for about 3 days, and it turned out to be 3 and a half weeks, almost a month, really. And the thing I took from it most was watching Michael Jackson perform, at performance level, in his rehearsals. I said, “Wow, that’s the consummate artist right there.” And that’s the pinnacle of where I’d like to go, and the kind of skill I would like to have as an artist. That I can come in at my rehearsals and treat them like performances. I took that from him, and that’s what I’ve been trying to do consistently in my work.

Q: What do you think about Jay-Z commenting that “We Are The World” should have been left alone because an icon did it, and it should not have been recreated?

WS: Well, I understand the motivation behind it, but I don’t really have a critical comment about it. I am more critical about how Michael was treated, more than anything else. I think that he was an angel sent to us, and I think that we might have to reflect on how well we took care of him. People like to say, “Oh, people around him were bad and they didn’t do right by him.” But I think this is collective too. Because I don’t know the last time, and I can’t remember any other artist that attracted that much energy and projected that much power. That was that creative, and affected so many people, and was such a diplomat for America, and a champion for American culture, and African-American people worldwide. People wanted to move to America because of Michael Jackson. Industry changed, the music industry changed, because of Michael Jackson. That’s a gift to us, and, you know, I am concerned that the Good Lord may not send another one because we did not take good care of [Michael Jackson].

Michael Jackson Really is Gone
Originally published at EURweb
By Steven Ivory
February 23, 2010

When I was a kid, I used to do something that I occasionally do today: I’d cast my eyes on something—a table lamp, a hillside, a wristwatch, jar of food, a collection of clouds in the sky, an automobile—it could be anything, really—and just stare at it for several minutes.

If you gaze at something long enough, with minimal blinking and trance-like concentration, it begins to appear surreal, as if otherworldly.

That’s what happened the other day when my eyes fell upon a commemorative Michael Jackson magazine lying on the floor of my office with the cover line, MICHAEL JACKSON, 1958-2009. I stared at that line, trying, as the phrase goes, to wrap my brain around the concept. The more I stared at those words and dates, the more freakish they appeared.

Almost a year after his death, I wrestle with the reality that Michael Jackson is no longer here. There are days when I accept it. Other times, the idea of his death seems like a Twilight Zone episode I can’t escape.

Michael Jackson dead? Really? It still just doesn’t seem true.

It’s not like I can’t handle death. When I lost my mother suddenly at age fifteen, the pain and sense of loss seemed unbearable. But I also remember that as a child, when mama was alive and well, I’d ask myself, “What if mama ever died?”

It was one of those morbid, forbidden pubescent musings I’d privately dare consider, between wishing I owned an ice cream truck and imagining having the ability to fly. In retrospect, I believe thinking about mama’s death before it actually occurred in some way prepared me for the inconceivable. Because I’d thought about it, maybe her passing didn’t completely blindside my young emotions.

As late as a couple years ago, that kind of infrequent meditation of the unfathomable would prepare me for the unlikely death of Michael Jackson. Or so I thought. I used to wonder what it would be like if he went early—how he would go and what kind of reception the world would give his passing.

Ghoulishly, my friends and I would really go at it: if it ever happened, we asked, would Mike’s death and the public’s subsequent mourning outsize the world’s grief for, say, Elvis? Martin Luther King, Jr.? John Lennon? Lady Di?

It all depended, we concluded, on Michael’s impact and popularity as an entertainer at the time of his death vs. his assorted weirdness and damning court cases. Of course, now we know the truth—that for nearly a month after his death, Michael Jackson dominated the global media, if not the Earth’s collective consciousness.

Nevertheless, despite what he himself predicted would be a tragically early, sudden and clichéd death befitting cultural icons, I actually envisioned Michael Jackson living a long life. I imagined him existing in old age pretty much as he had in the years before his death, in relative seclusion.

I saw an elderly Michael publicly resembling his friend Elizabeth Taylor: proud, rickety and mostly good-natured, dressed up and made up, always looking, as his idol James Brown insisted a true star should, “like somebody people would pay money to see,” creating a paparazzi stir anytime he ventured out for something to eat or to shop.

So sure was I that Michael wasn’t going anywhere, I chose instead to contemplate what the ultimate passing of his mother would do to him. I know. I think too much. But just as his kids appeared to redefine the pop star’s life, I was sure losing his mother, whom he loved dearly, would have torn Michael to shreds. I wondered what kind of Michael would eventually emerge from such sorrow. Would he have been moved to create music again, or become even more reclusive?

The days I truly know Michael is gone are those that I tune into E.T. or TMZ or flip through a People magazine or glimpse an Enquirer cover and ask myself, “Who are these people?” Indeed, Michael’s departure left a raging lacuna in the strange and perverted culture of celebrity the size of the Milky Way. With one of most famous men of all time gone, even the biggest stars suddenly seem like B-listers.

Sure, toward the end of his life, before the “This Is It” rehearsals, we’d nearly become immune to the annual rumors of yet another comeback. Word that Michael was in the recording studio with any number of hit songwriters and producers certifiably unqualified for the task of directing Jackson, was downright depressing.

However, as long as he was alive, we could still engage in the nagging hope that he’d again do something great. Plus, it was entertaining to simply watch Michael be the magnitude of star he was. The last time I witnessed that phenomenon in person was last year at the lavish, invitation-only 50th birthday party of Ed Hardy designer Christian Audigier.

The ever audacious Audigier had taken over Los Angeles’ four-story Peterson Automotive Museum, transforming one floor into “Heaven,” and the floor below it into “Hell,” complete with clouds, scantily-clad roaming angels and devils, magicians, acrobats, two D.J.-powered dance floors, truckloads of gourmet cuisine and free-flowing alcohol. Fergie and Snoop Dogg performed short sets each, while the likes of Britney Spears looked on.

The whole thing resembled Fellini’s cinematic interpretation of a Salvador Dali painting, at the chaotic height of which I turned to a party guest and quipped sarcastically, “All that’s missing now is Michael Jackson.”

And as if on spooky cue, Audigier took the stage and announced to the drunken revelers, “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d now like to introduce you to my good friend, the King of Pop, Michael Jackson.”

A D.J. cranked up “Thriller,” and out from backstage, in a blue sequin shirt, black pants and shades, strolled none other than Jackson. Flanked by four beefy bodyguards in black, he casually walked the fashion runway stage out over the stunned audience, now going positively insane as they held up cell phones to visually capture the moment.

Jackson, who looked to be in a playful mood, glanced down into the mad crowd as if he wanted to risk shaking a couple of hands before briefly taking the mic with Audigier and declaring the giddy designer “King of Fashion.”

Jackson might have been there for all of 15 minutes. He didn’t sing, dance or initiate a single rhythmic gesture, knowing it could have caused a riot. Plus, that would have cost extra: according to an associate of the designer, for his brief appearance Audigier paid MJ $250,000.

If Jackson never did anything else with the rest of his life, I’d have been amused watching him create traffic jams.

Instead, I’m trying to gaze at MICHAEL JACKSON, 1958–2009 from an angle that makes sense.

Steven Ivory’s book, Fool In Love (Touchstone/Simon & Schuster) is available through Amazon. Respond to him at steverivory@aol.com.

→ Download the complete FBI files from FBI.gov ←

Michael Jackson: The Shocking Truth in the FBI Files
By Deborah Ffrench
Sawf News, January 13, 2010

The one question I hear no one asking in the press or blogland in general is why was Michael Jackson taking an extreme drug? What made a relatively fit man known for abstention from the early part of his career until the mid-1990s, end his days in a made-to-measure trauma room?

A star by the age of 10, catapulted into super-stardom after the success of his first two solo albums, his dominance in the music industry coincided with the multimedia explosion of the late 1980s. One of the first of the new breed of artists to fully explore the potential of synergistic promotion of product as a vehicle to reach new audiences, by 1991 Michael Jackson, the brand, had penetrated the consciousness of the entire developed and most of the undeveloped world.

With such unprecedented accessibility came also unprecedented pressure. Pressure to maintain and exceed his own standards, constant deconstruction by the press, and emotional isolation as the gilded chains of a life lived under the microscope bound ever tighter. There is no room here to list the enormous contribution he made to the lives of children all over the globe. His efforts are a matter of public record and the information regarding them is easily obtainable on the web.

Suffice it to say, Michael saw children not as “people-in-waiting”, but as bonafide, sentient personalities whose process and concerns were worthy of respect and protection. Using his fame and wealth to radically benefit the lives of such young people was something Michael believed to be his ultimate purpose here, and it is in this light that we can perhaps understand the catastrophic, internal damage the public cauterization that came from 1993 onwards must have done to him.

Something rotten has been decaying at the the heart of our media for some time now, but it took the death of one of its favorite page-fillers to expose the reality of what the cumulative effect of deliberate mental and emotional attack on a person actually looks like. It must surely now be apparent that the existing regulatory checks and balances within the media are totally inadequate—and further, that those monitoring capabilities are unable to prevent the now standard “take aim” and “destroy” default position the media now typically seems to operate from in relation to the subjects it “goes after”.

Michael’s early death was not a given. Only the most imperceptive would deny that the anesthetic that killed him was, in reality, just a formality. What killed Michael Jackson was the sustained agony of being put through a baseless, protracted trial in full view of the world’s lens—knowing if found guilty, he would be removed from his children’s lives. And even after his acquittal, facing relentless vilification by a media that chose to simply disregard a verdict they found economically inconvenient.

British journalist Charles Thomson’s clear analysis of the recently released FBI files [can be viewed at his blog]. Thomson’s point-by-point breakdown of the files reveals not only the inability of both the FBI and the LAPD to provide any evidence of criminal wrongdoing by Jackson in an investigation that spanned over a decade, but also the continuing inference by the media of exactly the opposite of this.

It is important to note that there is a profound difference between the FBI stating that X and Y were alleged, and the FBI saying they investigated X and Y—and found X and Y to be proven. Thomson’s review of the files is thus required reading for any who wish to separate the facts from the soundbites which have largely dominated the media reporting on them.

Because the truth is, after the most thorough investigation the American taxpayer’s money could buy, one of the world’s foremost intelligence gathering agencies and the LAPD came up with precisely—nothing. Instead we were served a collage of cut-out articles from a UK tabloid, the dubious recollections of an unverifiable woman on a train, and two ex-employees who only came forward after the 1993 allegations broke and who, coincidentally, were also hawking a tell-all book to anyone who would listen.

Long before Dr. Murray ever wrote his first “feel-good’ prescription, a lie of epic proportions would set in motion a cataclysmic series of events that would bring Michael to the state of profound depletion we saw in 2005. Evan Chandler, a known brutalist, and Janet Arviso, a proven welfare cheat and compensation-chaser, manipulated the American criminal system and a willing media to bury Michael under the worst label society has determined exists. No proof was required, the suggestion was enough. And the world watched on the edge of their seats, as the obvious perjury of the witnesses was overlooked in the stampede to crucify a man previously so celebrated.

The inevitably, frenzied media coverage of Dr Murray’s impending trial which will replay the details of Michael’s dying moments for months to come, has now already begun its crescendo. It is more than a little disturbing to observe how quickly those same people who actively colluded in the degradation and erosion of Michael’s spirit and dignity for over 15 years, have regrouped to focus on Dr. Murray as the “fall guy” for the part he may have played in Jackson’s death. Murray’s culpability cannot be denied, but he was far from alone in his opportunism.

Where were the voices now wailing about “wasted resources” and the “rights” of taxpayers when Tom Sneddon authorized the use of millions of dollars of federal money to pursue Michael in his deeply personal and blinkered “takedown” of the, then-biggest pop star on the planet?

Michael Jackson didn’t bankrupt the City of Angels; they fell all by themselves. For a country that can shine so bright when it chooses to, what America did to this man stands as one of the most shameful examples of engineered cruelty and unmitigated persecution to be witnessed in modern times.

Originally published at Sawf News

→ Download the complete FBI files from FBI.gov ←

FBI Files Support Jackson’s Innocence; Media Reports Otherwise
By Charles Thomson
January 2, 2010

I should begin by saying that the release of Michael Jackson’s FBI file was not motivated by any desire to damage his legacy or smear his name. Many of Jackson’s fans are understandably distrustful of the establishment which repeatedly pursued the star on trumped up charges, but the release of Jackson’s FBI file is no conspiracy. Jackson’s file was requested under the Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) and I was one of those who requested it.

The FOIA allows members of the public to request classified or unattainable information held by any public body. The act is designed to uphold democracy by allowing citizens to scrutinize anything from local government budget reports to dossiers on UFO sightings. Requests can only be turned down for a handful of reasons, including privacy issues and national security.

When I requested Michael Jackson’s FBI file, I wasn’t even sure he had one. If he did, I had no idea what I would find in it. In Sammy Davis Jr’s I found nothing but countless investigations into death threats sent to the singer. In James Brown’s, however, I found an explosive re-telling of his infamous 1988 “car chase”, which showed the authorities in a very poor light and contained numerous accusations of police brutality.

The FBI released roughly 300 pages on Jackson, constituting less than half of his overall file. The reason behind the withholding of the other half is yet to be made public, but it most likely consists of information on Jackson’s dealings with still living figures of interest to the bureau—civil rights activists like Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson, and the various Middle Eastern businessmen and royals Michael Jackson befriended.

The released half of Jackson’s FBI file supports the star’s innocence entirely. Perhaps most notably, a lengthy report shows that when Jackson’s Neverland Ranch was raided in 2003, the FBI went over every computer seized from the property with a fine tooth comb looking for any incriminating files or internet activity. Jackson’s file contained individual summaries of the FBI’s findings for each of the 16 computers. Scrawled in capital letters across each of those 16 reports— “NOTHING”.

But not many media outlets included that nugget. In fact, numerous outlets—including the Daily Mail—inaccurately reported that the file did not include the bureau’s findings.

On a more general level, the files reveal that it was not only the Los Angeles Police force which pursued Jackson for more than a decade and failed to produce one iota of information to connect the star to any crime—it was the FBI too. That Jackson’s life was dissected and his behavior was investigated for more than 10 years by two major law enforcement agencies and not one piece of evidence was ever produced to indicate his guilt speaks volumes.

On the whole, the media didn’t quite tell it that way, though.

The FBI file included numerous allegations reported to the bureau which, of course, the media at large bogusly reported as the bureau’s own findings. So here is a breakdown of what the media told you existed in Jackson’s FBI file, and what the file actually contained.

MYTH: Michael Jackson was investigated for possession of child pornography.

FACT: The FBI file includes analysis conducted on a videotape “connected to Jackson” in order to ascertain whether or not it included child pornography. Some media outlets erroneously claimed that the tape had been seized from Neverland. In fact, the tape was seized by customs at West Palm Bach and there is no indication that it ever belonged to Jackson. The file states only that the tape was “connected with Jackson” and the connection appears solely to be that the program recorded onto the cassette had Jackson’s name in the title.

The FBI file does not contain any indication that the tape included child pornography at all and certainly does not contain any indication that the tape was ever in the possession of Michael Jackson.

But that’s not a particularly media-friendly story; a videotape that didn’t belong to Michael Jackson was analyzed and didn’t have child porn on it. So the media told their own story instead, working on the assumption that nobody would read the files to verify the facts for themselves.

MYTH: The FBI file reveals that Jackson was investigated in 1985 for molesting two Mexican boys.

FACT: An FBI officer recorded an allegation that the bureau had previously investigated Jackson in 1985 for the molestation of two Mexican boys. This allegation was made by an unnamed writer who said the story had been told to him during research for a book. However, the FBI files contain no information whatsoever about any 1985 investigation into Michael Jackson.

Countless media outlets reported this story as the FBI’s own finding when in fact it was merely a baseless allegation made to the bureau by an anonymous source. The FBI found no merit to the allegation:

…but the majority of media outlets failed to mention this important fact. A simple oversight, I’m sure…

MYTH: The FBI found a couple in the Philippines who witnessed acts of molestation at Neverland.

FACT: This couple—Mark and Faye Quindoy—had worked at Jackson’s Neverland Ranch between 1989 and 1991, but left in a dispute over pay. Between 1991 and 1993 neither ever made any complaint that Jackson behaved inappropriately around any child. However, after the 1993 allegations broke, the Quindoys began selling interviews about Jackson’s alleged improper behavior.

The pair’s claims were suspect from the outset. They had left Neverland in 1991 in a pay dispute but were now telling tabloids that the reason behind their departure was that they were appalled by Jackson’s behavior around children—a provable fiction. Besides, if they had been so shocked and appalled by Jackson’s behavior, why had they not contacted the authorities?

Mark Quindoy’s story changed repeatedly; the more money he was paid for his story, the more appalling the alleged molestation became. The prosecutors in the 1993 Jackson case sent two officers to Manila to interview the couple, but the officers concluded that “their testimony was worthless and the credibility of their claims was highly questionable”.

MYTH: The FBI found that Jackson had engaged in phone sex with a British boy.

FACT: This story comes courtesy of The Sun.

The FBI file briefly references a newspaper story in which a man called Terry George claimed that Jackson, aged 19, had engaged in phone sex with him when he was just 13.

The Sun was rather proud that this story was referenced in the FBI file because it was the Sun which published it in the first place. As such, the newspaper was quick to toot its own horn with an “FBI investigates Jackson over Sun‘s investigation” type fanfare.

In fact, the FBI did not investigate the claim and to date no evidence has been produced to support Terry George’s story.

In its story about the FBI file, the Sun repeatedly referred to the phone call between Jackson and Terry George as a matter of fact, even though no evidence has ever been produced to prove that the conversation ever took place.

George is a man of dubious character to say the least, currently owning a string of smutty phone sex companies. His story doesn’t seem to add up, either. Despite Jackson’s supposed inappropriate behavior, George’s website carries a photograph of himself with the star more than five years after the phone call allegedly happened. The two still look like firm friends.

In subsequent interviews George has described how he lost touch with Jackson and resorted to behavior which could be described as stalking—calling the Jackson all the time, hanging around outside his hotels, trying to bluff his way past Jackson’s security. More than anything, George’s interview with the Sun seemed like an act of jealous revenge by an embittered former acquaintance. Either way, the FBI found no merit to George’s claim.

Originally published at CharlesThomson.blogspot.com

A Tale of Two Michaels
Originally published at Make-Up Artist Magazine
Michael R. Thomas
October 20, 2009

Editor’s note: This summer, make-up artist Michael Thomas and pop star Michael Jackson died within two months of each other (Thomas’ obituary is posted on our site). Here, Thomas, who was Jackson’s make-up artist for The Wiz, recalls some memorable experiences with Jackson on and off the set. Thomas’ wife, Christine Domaniecki, shared Thomas’ memories with us.

Wizardry Behind The Wiz

On The Wiz, we had Vac-u-Forms made from plaster life masks of each actor who appeared as a main character (including the Cowardly Lion, the Tin Man and the Scarecrow, played by Michael Jackson). They were made because every week or so, Stan Winston’s Los Angeles-based lab would ship a bunch of the actors’ freshly made foam-latex appliances to New York, where we shot the movie.

After I brought the Scarecrow appliances home, I would lightly attach the foam-latex pieces to the Vac-u-Form and pre-color them. It saved a lot of application time when we were in the make-up room at the Kaufman Astoria Studios. Keeping the foam-latex pieces on the form during pre-painting kept them in shape, the way a coat hanger keeps wrinkles out of a coat. On the inside of one of the forms, you can see a few color swatches. I duplicated the color of the Scarecrow’s greasepaint in artists’ acrylic. I put acrylic on the neck ruffle he wore as well, because if I used greasepaint, it would rub off onto his costume.

We were allowed to keep the forms at the end of the movie. I have about five.

Every morning I began Michael’s make-up by applying a bald cap to keep his hair, which was in very small braids, in place. Next I would apply the foam-latex pieces: a forehead piece, two cheek pieces, a nose piece (which was supposed to look like a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup wrapper), a chin piece and a neck ruffle. They went on in the morning and had to be maintained during the day.

Because the Scarecrow was a very cartoon-y character, Michael made lots of exaggerated facial expressions to bring the Scarecrow to life. The facial calisthenics looked great, but they also loosened the foam-latex pieces, so I would have to re-glue and re-paint the make-up (for more on this, see the Martini Shot in Issue 81 of Make-Up Artist magazine). To remove the make-up at the end of the day, I would stand behind Michael, lift the back of the bald cap and peel it up over his head. The cap and the foam-latex appliances would come off pretty much all in one piece.

But then I’d duck down behind his chair so he couldn’t see my reflection in the mirror, put the make-up (which now looked like a spooky mask) on my hand, slowly raise it up behind his head and jiggle it, going, “OOODLE-OOODLE-DOOODLE-DE-OOOOHHH!” He would laugh like crazy, as if it were one of the funniest things he’d ever seen. I really enjoyed his childlike sense of humor; I could say or do any dumb thing and it would get a big laugh. I would then remove the remainder of his make-up, glue and adhesives and that would be it. We’d go home and get ready for the next day’s shooting.

When we were talking one day, I told Michael that when I was a little boy, I taught myself how to draw, which was pretty much the beginning of my becoming a make-up artist. He asked to see an example. I took a pen and drew a quick sketch of the Frankenstein monster. He liked it. He said that he and his brothers and sisters sometimes played a game to fight boredom: One of them would draw a few abstract lines on a piece of paper, give it to another sibling and say, “OK, now make a fire engine out of this, or a tree,” etcetera, and the other sibling had to complete the drawing in a certain amount of time.

When I played the game with Michael, I tried to trick him by drawing a few curvy lines that I felt did not suggest a cat. As far as I was concerned, these curvy lines looked nothing like a cat. So I said, “Go ahead, make a cat out of these lines!” And within 30 seconds he had drawn a cat. Not as I would have pictured one, standing on all fours, but a pussycat curled up asleep.

Then he made a couple new drawings on the spot, and I kept them with his blessing. One of the drawings was of a man’s face. It’s pretty sketchy and kind of impressionistic, but there are a couple of eerie similarities between the drawing he made and his own face, later on, after he had so much plastic surgery done.

On the Outside

There’s a phenomenon that frequently occurs when a make-up artist and an actor work together: instant intimacy. Make-up artists and hairstylists are kind of like psychiatrists or bartenders. You’re in the same room, physically close for hours at a time, sometimes for many days. Because people usually have the urge to talk, the subject matter often changes from chitchat to some very serious subjects. And though the two of us were only together to work on a movie, we got to know each other pretty well.

I asked Michael over for dinner one night. We had to keep quiet about it, because if anybody found out, word would spread like wildfire. It was 1978 and at age 19, Michael was already well-known around the world. So he came over to our apartment in Bergenfield, New Jersey with his armed bodyguard, Spence. Dinner was Cornish game hens and, by Michael’s request, Stove Top Stuffing, which he said the folks in his home town of Gary, Indiana referred to as “dressin’.” When he ate, he really dug in: He got food all over his face, all over the table, all over his clothes. He was very passionate about anything he did, and I suppose eating was one of those things.

We had a great time that night. Because I play guitar a little, I showed him how to play some easy chords on my acoustic guitar. He had always admired people who could play musical instruments and had often fantasized about being the lead guitarist in a rock band.

At that time, the comedian Robert Klein had made an appearance on Saturday Night Live; he came out with a harmonica, gave the band the downbeat by stomping his foot, and cried, “Lemme hear some blues!” The band struck up the introduction to a blues number and he began playing the harmonica with them, stomping his feet, leg pumping in time. After the opening 16 bars, he pulled the harmonica from his lips and, foot still stomping, sang, “I can’t stop my leg, little darlin’ … I can’t stop my leg, little guurrl!” Well, Michael got a big kick out of this. So while I played a blues chord progression on my guitar, Michael stomped his foot and sang, “I can’t stop my leg!” At one point while he was singing, he said, “Now listen to me, people” and I broke up because he was really getting into it. From this visit, I got the sense that he was a very normal, healthy kid.

So I got to know the great Michael Jackson a little. He told me once that whatever he happened to be doing—working on a movie, cutting a record, appearing live on stage—it was the most important thing in his entire life while he was doing it. It really showed. No matter what he was doing, his talent spoke—and sang, and danced—for itself.

Michael was a very special person whose life was a combination of extremes. He enjoyed normal, down-to-earth things, but he also earned lifetime membership to a very exclusive club. His talent, tempered by lifelong discipline, reached the hearts of countless admirers and reshaped music for all time. He was denied his childhood; I think he spent the rest of his adult life trying to live it for the first time. He was a big kid!

Michael Jackson’s personal artist shared pop king’s vision
Edna Gundersen, USA TODAY

SANTA FE — Artist David Nordahl was at home painting in February 1988 when the phone rang at midnight. A voice said, “This is Michael Jackson.”
Yeah, riiiight, he thought. But he quickly realized the call was no prank.

While visiting Steven Spielberg’s office, Jackson had admired one of Nordahl’s paintings of Army troops invading an Apache camp as a young corporal shielded two Indian children. Now the singer was reaching out to the painter. For art lessons.

“He asked if I taught drawing and painting,” says Nordahl, whose realist oils of 19th-century Apaches are highly prized. “I told him I didn’t, but that I’d think about it. I was really busy.”

Their hour-long conversation sparked a close friendship and working partnership that led Nordahl to abandon renown in the art world for a cloistered vocation as Jackson’s portraitist. From 1988 to 2005, Nordahl completed thousands of drawings and roughly a dozen epic commissions, seven of which were among 2,000 Jackson items in Julien’s authorized auction, which the singer sued to stop last spring.

Many canvases encapsulate Jackson’s grandiose fantasies and fairy-tale worldview. In a massive triptych, he is crowned and knighted in royal robes. Along the sunlit path in Field of Dreams, he leads children of all nationalities (plus sister Janet, AIDS activist Ryan White and actor Macaulay Culkin). His firstborn son snoozes on an oversized golden throne in Prince, The Boy King.

Nordahl, 68, became not only Jackson’s favorite living artist (Michelangelo led the historic ranking) but a trusted adviser and confidant who designed Neverland carnival rides and joined family outings.

He ducked the media for years, “because they wanted to talk about negative stuff, and I don’t know anything bad about Michael,” the soft-spoken Nordahl says, sitting with artist/wife Lori Peterson and frisky cat Scooter in a living room crowded with paintings by the couple. He’s speaking now in hopes of brightening a picture darkened since Jackson’s death June 25.

“I always thought of him as normal,” he says. “He’s the most thoughtful, respectful person I’ve ever met. In 20 years, I never heard him raise his voice.”

Early days: Brainstorming

Nordahl’s Jackson period began after the singer invited him to the Denver stop of the Bad tour in March 1988.

“I didn’t know what to expect,” Nordahl says. “He was sweet. We went to galleries, bookstores and a private showing of the King Tut exhibit. We sat around and laughed and talked and drew.”

Jackson demonstrated talent but was stretched too thin to pursue visual arts. Instead, the two began hatching ideas for Nordahl to paint. The artist conceived the inaugural work, Playmates for a Lonely Child, a 41-inch-square oil of Jackson in a sylvan storybook scene. Next Nordahl embarked on a far bolder statement, Field of Dreams, a 36-by-104-inch oil study for an unfinished work that would have measured 12 by 38 feet.

He labored non-stop: large portraits, mythical tableaux, 10-foot charcoal drawings, a plaque on the Neverland gate. Nordahl billed Jackson in line with his earlier gallery rates, up to $150,000 for large pieces, and says he was always paid.

His duties expanded to amusement park design after Jackson began developing the ranch north of Santa Barbara, Calif., and Nordahl juggled several projects while adapting to Jackson’s enchanted lifestyle. At Neverland, the two tested rides and tended the exotic menagerie.

They took trips to Disneyland and spent time at billionaire Ron Burkle’s La Jolla, Calif., estate, where Jackson’s insomnia often meant Nordahl was enlisted for wee-hour practical jokes and beachside chats. (He also was a victim of Jackson’s notorious tricks, once finding his briefcase stuffed with bubblegum.)

He discovered the unglamorous Jackson, who in the late ’80s often drove by himself in a Chevy Blazer (and relieved himself in a bucket because he couldn’t risk being mobbed at gas stations) and lived in a two-bedroom Los Angeles condo.

“I expected a penthouse with maids,” Nordahl says. “There was a grand piano pushed into the kitchen, a popcorn machine and a good sound system. The other furniture, you couldn’t have gotten 50 bucks for it at a garage sale. Before the kids, Michael lived real simply.”

What fueled this bromance?

“I grew up in a difficult home, and he did too,” says Nordahl, whom Jackson thanks in liner notes for 1991′s Dangerous and 1995′s HIStory. “We had no playtime growing up. We’re both fanatical about work.

“There was a bond.”

Nordahl’s youth troubled, too

Born in Albert Lea, Minn., Nordahl left home at 12 and supported himself through high school by working on farms, pinstriping cars and selling his art.

“I can’t remember not drawing,” he says. “I had an abusive, alcoholic father, and drawing is something that takes you out of the real world. I was always interested in cowboys and Indians. I sold drawings of the Lone Ranger to my classmates.”

He began specializing in Apaches after moving to Steamboat Springs, Colo., in 1977, and his detailed, meticulously researched depictions soon lured collectors.

“His work had a lot of integrity, and he was one of those rare artists who was humble but extremely talented,” says prominent Santa Fe art dealer Ray Dewey, who held lotteries to determine buyers of Nordahl’s work because of high demand.

“His technique took a long time, so he was not prolific. When he talked to me about leaving to paint for Michael Jackson, I had over 200 people on a waiting list for his work. It was an interesting decision on his part.

“I think what Jackson saw in David was a complete artist,” Dewey says. “He was a perfectionist. He choreographed everything. Jackson also may have seen his commitment to family. David primarily painted the Apache people’s culture and lifeways, but he painted a lot of children, not just warriors. And he painted animals beautifully, especially horses.”

What Nordahl saw in Jackson was a wounded and misunderstood genius who felt spiritually obligated to help children.

Though Jackson was acquitted in his 2005 child sexual abuse trial, it “broke his spirit,” Nordahl says. “Michael would never molest a child. He always felt so bad for kids who were mistreated or sick. He spent so much time with critically ill kids. If a mother called about a dying child somewhere, he’d jump on a plane.

“People talked about Neverland being his private amusement park. It was always meant for kids. The last time I was at the ranch, they put up a big Sony JumboTron across from a condo building for sick children, so if kids woke up at night, cartoons would be on.”

‘Michael was a real dad’

Nordahl was bewildered that Jackson seemed to elicit more mockery than sympathy.

“People accused him of trying to be white, which is ridiculous,” he says. “When I first met him, his vitiligo (a skin disorder that causes pigmentation loss) had gone to the right side of his face and down his neck. Most of his right hand was white. Stark white patches. He used makeup because he had to. Without it, he was speckled all over.”

Nordahl never witnessed drug use by Jackson but was keenly aware of pain problems that lingered after the star’s hair caught fire on a Pepsi ad soundstage.

“When they were trying to repair that burned spot, he had a balloon under his scalp that was inflated,” Nordahl says. “He let me feel it. It was a huge mound. As the skin got stretched, they cut it out and stitched the scalp. He was in excruciating pain.”

Jackson seemed an unlikely addict, Nordahl says, noting his avoidance of cigarettes, alcohol, soft drinks and sugar.

“He was mostly a vegetarian,” he says. “When he was on tour, the cooks would make him eat fish and sometimes chicken. He loved little chicken wings. He always drank water. I shared wine with him only twice, once with (ex-wife) Lisa Marie (Presley) and once at Ron Burkle’s house. Michael had one glass.”

The clearest evidence of Jackson’s responsible nature emerged in his parenting of Prince, Paris and Blanket.

“Michael was a real dad, not a Hollywood dad,” he says. “He’d get up at night to feed them bottles. He’d change them, bathe them, everything a mother does.

“All the time I spent with those kids, I never heard them beg for anything or throw a fit. I never heard them cry. They were so well-adjusted.”

Jackson took pains not to spoil his children, says Nordahl, recalling a modest eighth birthday party in L.A. for Prince. (Jackson’s mother, Katherine, and sister Rebbie came over but skipped the festivities because of their Jehovah’s Witness beliefs, he says.)

“I was curious to see what Prince was going to get,” Nordahl says. “I figured it would be pretty extravagant, but he didn’t get one thing that cost over $2. He got Play-Doh, little action figures, things we’d call stocking stuffers.

“The kids were not allowed to watch TV or DVDs or play video games” except through points earned by their schoolwork. “Nothing was given to them. Michael said, ‘I want them to grow up as close to normal as possible.’ Those kids were so respectful and courteous, just sweet.”

Surprise visit to Santa Fe

Nordahl grew close to all three. Typically, the artist spent time with the Jackson brood on the West Coast. But over Memorial Day weekend in 2004, the star and his tykes surprised Nordahl by visiting Santa Fe via Jackson’s plush private bus (with a 60-inch plasma TV). Jackson suggested a movie outing.

“I thought we were going to a screening room,” Nordahl says. “His driver pulled into DeVargas Mall. He was friends with (Roland Emmerich), the director of The Day After Tomorrow, and it was opening weekend. The mall was jammed, and there was no place to park. I took the kids, got the tickets and popcorn, and we went in. Michael came in after the lights went down.

“The lights came up, and nobody noticed him. He had on a baseball cap and these Chinese silk pajamas. The kids had no masks on. Any of those rags would have paid $100,000 for that picture.”

Paintings’ future unclear

He last saw Jackson in 2005, when the singer moved to Bahrain and vowed never again to live on U.S. soil. Accustomed to lulls when Jackson was overseas or overextended, Nordahl resumed painting Apaches and presumed he’d be summoned once Jackson found a new home and showcase for his treasures.

The fate of Nordahl’s Jackson paintings is in limbo, though they may be part of a touring exhibition of the singer’s memorabilia proposed by the estate administrators. “I would like to see them in a Michael Jackson museum,” Nordahl says. “That was always Michael’s goal. He was very self-effacing, but he understood he was a music icon.”

Nordahl, represented by Settlers West Galleries in Tucson and Sherwoods Spirit of America in Santa Fe, has returned to painting Apaches and other subjects.

Whether his extended hiatus from the public eye damaged his authority or reputation “is difficult to gauge,” Dewey says. “I don’t know if it furthered his career. An artist who does commissions for one patron often is just isolated unless the patron publishes or exhibits the work. David’s always been independent, and he’s never sought publicity.”

And how many patrons are the King of Pop?

“We got to be such good friends that I forgot who I was hanging out with,” Nordahl says. “Then he’d break into these dance moves, quick as lightning, and it would dawn on me: He’s the best entertainer in the world.”

Rather than keep your eyes glued to your favorite news channel for the latest intrusive development or read another biased career retrospective on the recently deceased King of Pop, ponder these conundrums, posed by a true (frustrated) fan who pays attention to what’s really important.

10. How is it that Michael Jackson is sexy?*

Admit it, he is. His appearance(s) may be odd, but with all the different faces/styles/versions of Michael Jackson, there has got to be something there for everyone—just pick whichever one suits your particular fancy. He’s got the whole masculine/feminine, black/white, borders-all blurred-and-undefined thing going on, and he pulls it off, turning it into something ethereal that just draws you to him. He may have been a shy, seemingly asexual recluse in real life, but on stage, he will always be pure sex. The supernatural flow of his form is so completely attractive and captivating. He possesses magnetism that can’t be explained, because it can’t be compared to anything else. It’s like his public persona and bizarre behavior are the challenges, and he overcomes them when he performs by forcing you to forget about everything else.

Perhaps a better question would be: if you had never seen or been told anything about Michael Jackson before, and just heard his music, what would your first thought be upon hearing his voice? How about, “Michael, will you marry me?” He has recorded some of the sexiest songs ever made in the history of popular music. Close your eyes and listen again to “Liberian Girl,” “In the Closet,” “Human Nature,” “Heaven Can Wait,” and “Butterflies.” Pay careful attention to the words and how he phrases them. Michael Jackson is a perfect vocalist. Just as he’s playfully floating above the harmonies on his dance songs and spitting with anger in the intense ones, he is oh-so-convincingly romantic on every ballad. His last album, Invincible, is more R&B-tinged and, though often overlooked, is actually sexier than all his earlier works put together. On the smooth track “Break of Dawn,” Michael Jackson, the same guy who’s had more than his fair share of nose jobs and believes he is the modern day Peter Pan, is telling you that he wants to make love to you all night until the sun comes up, and you are more than okay with that.

Forget Justin Timberlake, forget Prince, because the King of Pop can lure you like no other. Why is everyone freaking out about if he is actually the biological father of his children, or what drugs were in his system when he died? “Michael Jackson is sexy—how and why?” should be the headline frozen at the bottom of the CNN screen which only the most qualified professionals will discuss until they’ve got some substantial answers.

9. Why does Bono get all the credit for saving the world?

Michael Jackson’s the one who implored us to heal the world and showed us how. Universal love, giving, and making positive changes are recurring themes in his songs: “Man In The Mirror,” “Heal The World,” “We Are The World,” and “The Lost Children,” just to name a few. He began contributing to charity in 1979 when he provided Public Library’s Young Adult Section with new books to encourage reading. For the next three decades, his generosity grew to incredible proportions as Michael donated to hospitals, orphanages, educational, and employment institutions in countries all over the world. He contributed to large scale causes—AIDS research, Nelson Mandela’s Children’s Fund, The International Federation of Red Cross, and UNESCO—as well as smaller: his MJJ Productions office once provided 200 turkey dinners to needy families in Los Angeles at Christmas.

Michael donated the profits from several of his hit singles and tours to charity, including his entire share of profits from the Jacksons’ Victory Tour to the T.J. Martell Foundation for Cancer Research, The United Negro College Fund, and the Ronald McDonald Camp for Good Times and $100 million from the “Heal the World” single and tour to USA for Africa. He set up the Heal The World Foundation in 1992, which brought underprivileged kids to the theme park at Neverland and also raised millions of dollars for children threatened by war and disease all over the world. In 2001, he founded Heal the Kids, an international program that helps parents rededicate their lives to raising their children with love and attention.

Perhaps most importantly, Michael Jackson visited victims of famine, illness, war, and natural disasters throughout his lifetime, traveling as far as South America, Africa, and India to personally connect with the suffering and bring them happiness and hope. He would often coordinate these trips with his tours in foreign countries so he could meet with people in hospitals and impoverished villages anonymously in between show dates.

He holds the world record for the “Most Charities Supported By a Pop Star” in the 2000 Guinness Book Of World Records. Charity isn’t a competition, so I won’t list how much money Bono has raised compared to MJ, but feel free to look into it. The U2 front man has somehow become the high profile archetype of humanity while Michael has been the living definition of good will for decades. He just does it without needing credit or praise. In your FACE, egotistical Irish guy! Michael Jackson raised hundreds of millions of dollars and donated $50 million of his own personal fortune to try to make the world a better place. . . why didn’t more people take notice? (For a more thorough examination of MJ’s charity work—it couldn’t really fit in one paragraph—go to the “charity” section of the JacksonAction website.)

8. What’s so bad about dangling a baby over a balcony?

Clips of Michael Jackson holding up baby Prince Michael II (Blanket) from a Berlin hotel terrace in 2002 for a crowd to see are still being replayed on countless television shows. Let’s watch it one more time and examine just what a terrible, crazy father this man must have been to commit such an act. What about the famous scene in The Lion King where Rafiki holds Simba up over Pride Rock to proudly show the king’s newborn son to his kingdom. . . now was that so wrong? A bizarre act of questionable parenting, or one of the most genuine, emotional expressions of love ever executed? Watch the Disney movie again and reevaluate your answer.

7. Why is everyone so shocked by the possibility that Michael Jackson had health problems?

All typical celebrity addiction clichés aside, it’s been pretty clear that Michael Jackson was dealing with serious ailments for years. For those of you shocked by the disclosure of his dependence on painkillers, listen to “Morphine” from his album Blood On The Dance Floor. It’s clearly about the sinister addictiveness of Morphine and Demerol. Yes, he wrote the song and put it on an album for all to hear in 1997, and yes, it’s a fucking good song. Why weren’t more people listening then?

Remember when the media—and anyone who believed the reports—was convinced that Michael’s claim of having a skin condition was a fabrication to cover up the fact that he was obsessed with bleaching his skin? He wrote “Black or White” and promoted the universal love of all races; he disclosed to the prying world his personal health condition of vitiligo, a disease involving the loss of skin pigmentation; and made multiple public statements declaring his pride of being African American. Still he was assailed as a liar. And to this day people still doubt the validity of him really having the disease.

Michael Jackson’s personal doctors, including longtime friend and well-respected physician Deepak Chopra, have now come forward to report on the singer’s struggle with vitiligo. Yes, he really had the disease. He was always incredibly self-conscious about his appearance, so he wore pounds of makeup to cover up the uncontrollable splotches on his skin. The condition made him literally allergic to sunlight, which would explain him always carrying around an umbrella. What a crazy person, right?! Dr. Chopra has also revealed that Michael suffered from lupus, a chronic autoimmune disease that caused the vitiligo, and that it is believed to have developed from the trauma of severe emotional abuse and stress he endured as a child. MJ never publicly spoke of the lupus, probably because he never owed anyone more of an explanation for his skin abnormalities than he had already given.

Despite the “evidence,” there will always be some who remain convinced that Michael Jackson bleached his skin for the hell of it. These skeptics are like Thomas the Apostle. You know, the guy that missed out on Jesus’ resurrection from the dead and told the other disciples, “Unless I put my finger into the nail marks of his hands and my hand in his side, I will not believe.” Yes, I just quoted The Bible in reference to Michael Jackson. For all the Thomases out there who doubt him, read this article or search for invasive pictures like this. . . fuck you.)

6. Why is the media not making a bigger deal over the evilness that is Joseph Jackson?

His first on-camera interview since Michael’s death, filmed on the red carpet at the BET awards ceremony-turned-MJ-tribute-show, reveals Joe plugging his new record company mere seconds after he is questioned about his son, deceased as of three days at that time. CNN anchorman Don Lemon totally lets him off easy, not questioning his stoicism or shamelessness under the somber circumstances. The news frenzy covered this shady interview for a short time, mentioning it as a sort of afterward to the BET Awards before moving on to the next story. A week later, good Grandpa Joe told Good Morning America that two of Michael’s children, 11-year-old daughter Paris and 7-year-old son Prince II, are showing potential for future stardom. Still, no one screamed in his face. Isn’t it the media’s job to probe further into interesting and suspicious subject matter? They spend a hell of a lot of time speculating over who could be the biological father of Michael’s children and tracking down Bubbles the Chimp. (Bonus question: what’s weirder, Michael Jackson having a pet chimpanzee or news stations obsessing over his existence 25 years after they first created headlines about it?)

Joe Jackson can pretty much be blamed for all the negativity and downfalls his superstar son faced throughout the years. The intense emotional stress attributable to his father’s abuse when Michael was a child manifested itself in physical ailments (you know, the ones people thought he made up). He also developed Body Dysmorphic Disorder, obsessively altering his appearance to avoid any outward resemblance to the man who raised him, mistreated him, and told him he was ugly. The singer’s traumatic youth generated his obsession with childhood and innocence, eventually leading to molestation charges that drove him physically ill with stress and despair and dependent on anti-anxiety and sleeping pills.

No matter what directly caused Michael Jackson’s death, it is clear that the origins of all his life problems can be traced back to the scars left by his father’s emotional abuse. I’d think the media would jump all over this source of evil, with paparazzi hounding Joe far worse than they ever bothered his son for the past 30 years. “Joe! Joe! Tell us, do you feel bad that you indirectly caused the death of the most talented and compassionate individual in your family? Say something for the camera!” Why don’t the police raid Joseph Jackson’s home like they did Neverland, for evidence that he’s a permanent ASSHOLE?

5. Was it that absurd for his children to wear the masks?

Now everyone in the world knows exactly what Prince, Paris, and Prince II look like, so they can be followed everywhere and photographed in every different outfit and environment imaginable, all the time. Move over Lindsay Lohan, TMZ’s got some new favorites! Paparazzi have hounded Michael Jackson his entire life, snapping photos of him at every opportunity since he was ten years old; it’s not like that turned out badly. I’m just confused as to why he wouldn’t allow us to get a really good, long look at his kids before. He should have sold the infancy pictures to Us Weekly when he had the chance. We could have started this whole crazed speculation over their true biological parents waaaay earlier instead of in the wake of them losing the only parent they’ve ever had. That way they could have started doubting where they came from at much earlier ages while the man who worked so hard to raise them in a normal, loving environment was still alive. The media was right all along in its depiction of Michael Jackson as a frightening eccentric; he attached way too much importance to the concept of privacy—and costume accessories.

4. Who the hell is buying Thriller in 2009?

Right now, Michael Jackson albums are selling like, well, Michael Jackson albums in the ’80s. At the time of writing this article, over two million people bought his albums in the first three weeks following his death. The third week alone accounts for 1.1 million of these sales, which literally tripled compared to the first week. This staggering number also includes 349,000 copies of Number Ones and 264,000 copies of Thriller sold in the third week. The top 12 positions on Billboard’s top pop catalog albums chart are currently held by MJ-related albums, both solo and with the Jackson 5.

Physical albums make up 90 percent of his sales in the third week, with 966,000 people buying the physical CD versus 110,000 downloading albums. Physical purchases are increasing significantly each week as more physical product becomes available in stores. Before now, no single artist had ever sold even one million digital tracks in a single week, but in the first few days following his death people downloaded nearly 2.5 million digital Michael Jackson songs. In total, 6.1 million digital MJ tracks have been bought in North America, Europe, Australia, and New Zealand in the past three weeks. As time progresses (and media coverage fails to subside), sales continue to escalate.

Don’t worry about all these impressive figures, though. The fact is that Michael Jackson album sales are not only breaking all kinds of records, but he has posthumously breathed life into the long-time suffering music industry. Interestingly enough, when Thriller was first released in 1982, it single-handedly resurrected Epic Records, and the music industry as a whole, as they had been in a major slump for the past three years. History is repeating itself, and Thriller continues to maintain its title as the Best Selling Album of All Time in the Guinness Book of World Records as people are once again going out in droves (to real, physical stores, too!) to buy Michael Jackson albums.

I’m just a little confused. Who just realized that Michael Jackson is amazing but didn’t have any of his albums? Who doesn’t already own Thriller? Surely, anyone who was alive bought their first copy when it came out in 1982. It remained in the American Top Ten for 80 consecutive weeks, spending 37 of those at Number One. That means everyone in America who ever bought music had to own Thriller. Then they all gradually bought it on CD as the new format became prevalent; a new generation discovered the album, and it was just like discovering it all over again for those whose records and tapes had worn out.

By the time the 25th anniversary edition came out last year, I sure as hell hope that anyone who had lost their copy, or was too young to buy it the first time around, came to their senses and realized that any MJ album, but especially Thriller, is a life necessity. Surely anyone with a TV has seen Michael’s famous moonwalking performance of “Billie Jean;” surely we’ve all danced to “PYT” at weddings; and involuntarily bopped along to “Beat It” or “Wanna Be Startin’ Something” whenever they’ve been played occasionally on the radio?

Thriller set a precedent for blockbuster albums when seven of its nine original tracks became Top Ten singles on the Billboard Hot 100, and its individual singles reached Number One chart positions in the US, the UK, France, Italy, Australia, Denmark, Belgium, South Africa, Spain, Ireland, New Zealand, and Canada. Everybody’s got to know the songs, and if you know them, you can’t deny that they are the definition of good music.

Yet, the staggering numbers of CD sales in the past two weeks reveals that there are a lot of people who’ve heard Michael Jackson songs in their lifetime but somehow never felt the need to actively own and listen to them. I’m surprised to find that there are actually human beings out there who’ve caught “Thriller” on the radio during Halloween season and thought, “Man, what a great song; guess I’ll wait ’til next fall to hear it again.” I’m just curious as to how these men and women who suddenly feel the need to listen to Michael Jackson’s music ever lived without it as a constant in their lives. Oh, and if it’s going to take 30 more years until people realize that later Jackson albums like Blood On The Dance Floor and Invincible are just as amazing in their own ways, I’m going to be very upset.

3. Why hasn’t the world always celebrated Michael Jackson’s life and music?

Aside from the ridiculous media madhouse surrounding anything and everything related to Michael Jackson, and the regrettable fact that he is no longer living, this whole resurgence of interest in and love for his life and music is pretty fucking amazing. It’s strange to think that he has made such a permanent stamp on international pop culture, yet has been kind of forgotten about in the past decade. . . at least in America. Up until recently, it had become a semi-rare treat to hear his songs played on the radio or catch one of his performances replayed on TV. But now, since June 25, 2009, cars have been blasting Michael Jackson tunes at full volume as they drive down the street, and it’s no surprise to step into a store and hear the familiar, catchy strains of one of his songs. You can bet clubs around the world are now spinning Off The Wall multiple times a night, and its beats are guaranteeing full dance floors. Amidst all the negative reports, the media has started to bring to light Michael Jackson’s achievements and charitable contributions that they neglected to focus on for so long. We’ve gotten a refresher course on how he broke the color barrier on MTV, not to mention Grammy award and album sales records left and right.

So, to a true MJ fan like myself, the present environment is a bit confusing. His music should be playing everywhere, all the time, at any given opportunity. His impact on pop culture as we know it and his countless good endeavors to bring good to the world should be appreciated and revered every day, always, not just now because he is gone.

Michael Jackson’s memorial service was a tribute long overdue. It would have been especially valuable for him to have known just how many people still admire and support him in 2009. Now, people all over the planet are aware of his greatness as an artist and a person. The world should have established an international holiday celebrating this guy decades ago. (Who do I speak to about this? The UN?) Fuck the Elvis Presley comparison; Michael Jackson is more like the modern day Schubert or Mahler, known as a musician in life but truly acknowledged and revered as genius only after his death. Good job everyone; western culture has come a long way since the 1800s.

2. Has he ever made a mistake?*

Despite all the courtroom allegations, financial woes, and social gaffes, I have never witnessed one instance of Michael Jackson actually messing up during a performance. Once he’s on stage, he is flawless. He committed his entire life to creating and practicing, practicing, practicing so he could give his fans nothing less than the greatest show possible. Always the perfectionist, he cried backstage after his legendary Motown 25 premiere of the moonwalk, because he felt he had not done his best. Only after a young boy stopped him in the parking lot as he was leaving and told Michael it was amazing, did he feel proud of the performance at all. The ridiculously high standards he set for himself mean that his audience will never see anything less than precision and magic. If you’ve found some shoddy footage on YouTube of Michael Jackson falling flat on his face in the middle of a dance or something, don’t show it to me. . . I’d rather keep on believing. To me, he always seemed inhuman: full of humanity, yes, but when it came to how he spoke, thought, created, and shared, he appeared to be not of this world. He was—and still is—magic.

1. The ultimate question surrounding his life is not how strangely he lived, or how he died, but how did Michael Jackson exist in this material world to begin with?

We were lucky to have experienced him at all.

*Author’s note: Some statements have been kept in the present tense though Michael Jackson is no longer living. While this may be grammatically and conceptually incorrect, it’s impossible to talk about this person and his art as if it is all a finite part of history that already happened and is no more. Hopefully no one is too confused by the inconsistency in tense, because to me Michael Jackson is timeless.

© 2009 Brenna Chase/Popshifter.com (Reprinted with permission)

On July 8, 2009, Michael Jackson’s dermatologist of 25 years, Dr. Arnie Klein, appeared on Larry King Live. Among the topics of discussion included Michael’s affliction with vitiligo, lupus erythematosus, and chronic pain; as well as the subjects of plastic surgery and body dysmorphic disorder.

A full transcript of the program can be found here. I have chosen to directly excerpt the passages specifically relating to Michael’s health.

CNN LARRY KING LIVE
Interview with Michael Jackson’s Doctor
Aired July 8, 2009 – 21:00 ET

LARRY KING, HOST: The saga the death of Michael Jackson continues. And we welcome a very special guest tonight. Dr. Arnie Klein, they call him the dermatologist to the stars, easily the best known dermatologist in Southern California, maybe elsewhere, too. He’s Michael Jackson’s long-term dermatologist, friend and he’s a professor of medicine and dermatology at UCLA.

Doctor, how did you first meet Michael?

DR. ARNIE KLEIN, MICHAEL JACKSON’S DERMATOLOGIST: I met Michael because someone had brought him into my office. And they walked into the room with Michael. And I looked one — took one look at him and I said you have lupus erythematosus. Now, this was a long word.

KING: Lupus?

KLEIN: Lupus, yes. I mean, because he had red — a butterfly rash and he also had severe crusting you could see on the anterior portion of his scalp. I mean I always am very visual. I’m a person who would look at the lips of Mona Lisa and not see her smile. I would see the lips.

KING: Was he there because of that condition?

KLEIN: He was there only because a very close friend of his had told him to come see me about the problems he had with his skin. Because he was — he had severe acne, which many people made fun of him [for]. He used to remember trying to clean it off and he’d gone to these doctors that really hurt him very much. And he was exquisitely sensitive to pain.

So he walked into my office. He had several things wrong with his skin. So I said — and you have thick crusting of your scalp and you have some hair loss.

He says, well, how do you know this?

I said, because it’s the natural course of lupus. So I then did a biopsy. I diagnosed lupus. And then our relationship went from there.

KING: Grew from there.

You — let’s fast forward. You saw him the Monday before he died.

KLEIN: Absolutely. Yes, sir.

KING: What was the purpose of the visit?

KLEIN: He came to me because, basically, I was sort of rebuilding his face, because he had severe acne and scarring. He had scarring from having a lot of cosmetic surgery. And my expertise is — like it is with every one of my patients. My patients are my treasures. And I was rebuilding his face so he looked much more normal. And contrary to what people said, he could not take off his nose. His nose was attached. But it looked too small. And I just was trying to get him ready to do the concert, because in the way he looked in his face, he wanted it to be absolutely as perfect as it could be.

KING: Did he consult you when he was doing his plastic surgery?

KLEIN: No. I mean I came onto the scene long after he’d begun plastic surgery. In fact, what I wanted to do is, you know, stop it, because I felt that, you know, we were losing body parts in the situation…

KING: Do you know why — he was such a good-looking young man — why he even started the plastic surgery?

KLEIN: I don’t know because I can’t definitively say. But I know that people made fun — or family members — of the size of his nose. He was very sensitive to that. And so he doing cosmetic surgery. [...] The thing is there’s — plastic surgery, it’s unfortunate. If you want it done, there’s someone who will do it.

KING: [...] How would you describe Michael’s mental, physical condition on that Monday?

KLEIN: He was dancing in the office, so it’s hard to say. So he was in very good physical condition. He was dancing for my patients. He was very mentally aware when we saw him and he was in a very good mood, because he was very happy and…

KING: Was it good?

KLEIN: It was a very, very happy mood.

KING: So, therefore, you had to be shocked when he died.

KLEIN: Oh, I sat and — I remember when I found out. I sat at my desk. For about five hours, I couldn’t move, because I was very close to him. And it’s not just because he’s Michael Jackson, probably the most talented actor — or, excuse me, performer of our age. I mean when I lose anyone that I know I go — having lost my brother and my father when I was in medical school, I don’t do well with death. [...] Anyone I’ve taken care of many of your friends. And I have to tell you one thing, I give my life to my work. I have nothing else.

KING: Was — was Michael in any kind of pain when you saw him?

KLEIN: Not whatsoever.

KING: Yes. Now, there are reports, doctor, that his body was riddled — I want to get this right — with needle marks when he died.

Did you see any evidence of needle marks on this visit?

KLEIN: Well, I didn’t examine his entire body.

KING: Had you seen any in prior exams?

KLEIN: No, I never saw needle marks on his body. I mean I never saw them. But I could tell you— but I didn’t see a riddling of anything. People sound like he looked like he was made of, you know, there were holes in him. And there weren’t anything like that.

KING: Reports he was emaciated.

KLEIN: He wasn’t emaciated. I mean, I know dancers because I’ve worked with dancers many times and dancers are very concerned about their weight. And so I knew that he always wanted to be thin. And I talked to him about eating enough and making sure he didn’t over exercise, as some dancers, in order to remain thin, will over dance, in order to keep their weight down.

KING: [...] Well, what about pain killing medications? Did you prescribe any?

KLEIN: I mean I’ve some sedatives for, you know, when he had surgical procedures that were immense, because, don’t forget, he had a lot of — he had the burn — the serious burn when he was burnt on the Pepsi commercial and the severe hair loss when he, you know, contracted lupus, also.

So when you have to fix all these areas, you have to sedate him a little bit.

But if you took all the pills I had given him in the last year at once, it wouldn’t do anything to you.

KING: What was the strongest medication you gave him?

KLEIN: I once — you know, I, on occasion, gave him Demerol to sedate him. And that was about the strongest medicine I ever used.

[...]

KING: What is vitiligo?

KLEIN: It’s a loss of pigment cells. And the pigment cells, you — for every 36 normal cells in your body, you have one pigment cell pumping pigment into them. Unfortunately, it’s an autoimmune disease and lupus is an autoimmune disease. And they tend to go together, because you make antibodies against your pigment cells.

KING: Did Michael have it?

KLEIN: Absolutely. We biopsied (INAUDIBLE).

KING: What causes it?

KLEIN: It’s caused by your immune system and your immune system destroying your pigment cells.

KING: Do black people have it more than white people?

KLEIN: No. But it’s just more visible on black people, because they have a dark skin. The other thing is, it certainly occurs with a family history. And I believe one of Michael’s relatives did, in fact, have vitiligo.

KING: How bad was his?

KLEIN: Oh, his was bad because he began to get a totally speckled look over his body. And he could…

KING: All over his body?

KLEIN: All over his body, but on his face significantly; on his hands, which were very difficult to treat.

KING: So let’s clear up something.

He was not someone desirous of being white?

KLEIN: No. Michael was black. He was very proud of his black heritage. He changed the world for black people. We now have a black president.

KING: So how do you treat vitiligo?

KLEIN: Well, I mean there’s certain treatments. You have one choice where you can use certain drugs called (INAUDIBLE) and ultraviolet light treatments to try to make the white spots turn dark or — his became so severe, that the easier way is to use certain creams that will make the dark spots turn light so you can even out the pigments totally.

KING: So your decision there was he would go light?

KLEIN: Well, yes, that’s ultimately what the decision had to be, because there was too much vitiligo to deal with and…

KING: Otherwise, he would have looked ridiculous?

KLEIN: Well, you can’t — he would have to wear heavy, heavy makeup on stage, which would be ridiculous. And he couldn’t really go out in public without looking terribly peculiar.

KING: [...] How did you treat the vitiligo?

KLEIN: Well, we basically used creams that would even out the same color and we destroyed the remaining pigment cells.

KING: And did his color change a lot over the years?

KLEIN: No, because once we got — we got it more uniform, it remained stable. But you still had to treat it because once in a while — and he had to also be extraordinary careful with sun exposure because of a lot of things. And that’s why he had the umbrellas all the time (INAUDIBLE) skin now.

KING: So when you have vitiligo, you have it all your life?

KLEIN: Usually. Almost uniformly. You don’t just have a little bit of it. And it’s most disconcerting not in white people, but in black people because you begin to look like a leopard.

KING: You can see it. Yes.

Did he have blotches?

KLEIN: He had blotches but we evened out almost all of them. And he was very, very devoted to treating it. I mean he wanted to look well. He wanted to look well for one group of people, his fans. He wanted to embrace and love his fans more than any performer I’ve ever known.

KING: Did he have hair?

KLEIN: He had lost a great deal of it. You forget this first fire…

KING: That was the Pepsi fire, right?

KLEIN: Yes. But then what happened is he used a great deal of what are called tissue expanders in his scalp, which are balloons that grow up — blow up the scalp. And then what they do is they try to cut out the scar.

Well, because he had lupus, what happened is every time they would do it, the bald spot would keep enlarging.

So, I mean, he went through a lot of painful procedures with these tissue expanders until I put a stop to it. I said no more tissue expanders, because he had to wear a hat all the time and it was really painful for him.

KING: So what would his — without the hat, what would he look like?

KLEIN: Well, he had a big raised ball on the top of his head because of this device. It would expand the tissue, which you cut out.

But (INAUDIBLE) would you — (INAUDIBLE) too much stretch back in the scar, you understand?

KING: Did you see him one other time?

KLEIN: Of course I did. But he would have a stretch back on the scar. I mean the scar would get worse after they removed it. And I had to put a stop to it. So I told Michael, we have to stop this. And that’s when I fired this plastic surgeon altogether. And I said I can’t deal with this anymore. We’re going to deal with me as your doctor or you’re going to have to find another doctor if you want to work with him.

KING: What you can tell us about his changing face?

KLEIN: Well, I mean, I didn’t know a whole lot through the whole changing face schedule, because I’m telling you that when I met him, he had done a — a decent bit of surgery by then. I know…

KING: Was it done poorly?

KLEIN: Well, it’s not done poorly, but I think that there’s a time — the magic is not knowing when to begin the big game. The secret is knowing when to end it.

And I think that he believed that his face was a work of art, which is fine with me.

But I think at one point that I wanted to stop the doctors from continuing it. Because it wasn’t the doc — Michael, I think, that wanted all these things. It was the surgeon who kept doing it. So I got rid of the surgeon.

KING: The surgeon got him to do it?

KLEIN: No, he did some of it himself. But he didn’t know — the surgeon did not know when to stop doing it. The judgment call there was (INAUDIBLE).

KING: Did you ever say to Michael, we’re going too far?

KLEIN: I stopped him from going to the surgeon because I said this isn’t working anymore, you have to stop it. And what I spent the last part of the year doing is rebuilding a lot of things that I thought were done poorly. And to look at it, because I didn’t think he — he had a — OK, to him, his face was a work of art. You want to talk about Andy Warhol’s work of art. And there are women in Paris and elsewhere — and men — who do works of art. Some of them implant things under their skins through surgeries.

KING: But there are plastic surgeon addicts, right — people who keep going?

KLEIN: Yes. And there are also people who are — it’s called body dysmorphic disorder, that you don’t like the way you look, which represents 18 percent of patients that see a doctor.

KING: You can be beautiful, but look in the mirror and not think you’re beautiful.

KLEIN: Oh, absolutely.

[...]

KING: Why did he wear the mask?

KLEIN: He wore the mask because it sort of became like the white glove. He would…

KING: Oh, it was a — it was a gimmick.

KLEIN: A gimmick. He had no reason other than to wear the mask than gimmickry.

[...]

KLEIN: The subject is Michael Jackson — the changes to his nose.

Why did he do that? And is it true that he wanted to look like Peter Pan?

KLEIN: I don’t think he wanted to look like Peter Pan. I didn’t see him implanting wings on the back of his back or doing anything like that, right?

KING: All right, what about the nose?

KLEIN: The nose was a very special thing, because his father and his brothers supposedly, from what I’ve read, made fun of his nose all the time. So he was very sensitive to the nose. And…

KING: What was wrong with his nose?

KLEIN: I originally didn’t think there was much wrong with his nose. I thought he had a nice-looking nose. But in the beginning, it was never able to come off his body. But it got to the point where it was far too thin. It didn’t look natural to me.

KING: Now, you helped him rebuild it?

KLEIN: I rebuilt it, yes. Using fillers. I used Restylane. I used hydronic acids because — and they worked very well. And it’s not — it’s an arduous procedure, because you don’t want to put too much in. And you have to do it exactly, so you can flow the material so it’s perfectly smooth.

So we rebuilt them. And I’m telling you that he was beginning to look like the nose was normal again. And that’s all I wanted — and regain the breathing, you know, passages of his nose, because there was a total collapse of the cartilage.

KING: In the last photos that we’ve seen, his nose has been built up, right?

He’s looking better?

KLEIN: Yes.

KING: Was he still working at that?

KLEIN: No, because I think we got to the point where he was very happy with the way he looked and he filled in the cheeks a little bit and did a lot of little things.

But I mean what I do to an individual patient is what I do. And what I do is just restoration work, because I don’t think people should look, again, like anything has been altered.

[...]

KING: Was Michael happy with the way he looked?

KLEIN: Absolutely. Michael, they painted him as a very sad creature like Charlie Chaplin or something.

KING: He loved Chaplin.

KLEIN: Well, we once went to Disneyland and it was Disneyland Paris and at night, he brought Michael Jackson. What he did is, he loved way he walked because he just walked like Charlie Chaplin. So he took the cane and he starts imitating the way Michael Chaplin walks.

Every time Michael would turn around, Michael Jackson would hide the cane. So he’s very, very funny that way. And I spent Christmas Eve with him with Carrie Fisher and his kids wanted to meet Princess Leia, it’s all they wanted to meet. So I dragged Princess Leia over and he played with her and the kids were all on the floor because he was a person who was both a father and he loved them here dearly.