(and yeah, I know that I fell off the face of the earth. trying to get back into gear at last.)
I was begged to NOT blog about Michael Jackson’s death . . . so I’ll keep this short.
First, a disclaimer: I have barely watched any of the TV coverage about this. I think I saw about twenty minutes of news people talking stupidly about whether his daughter should have been “allowed” to speak at his memorial service. And with that, I’d had about enough.
But I will say that I think that his death, and everything surrounding it, is a different experience for black folks than it is for white folks. And I also think that most white folks would tell me that I’m crazy for making such an assertion. After all, black celebrities are, and always have been, ours to appropriate the culture of as we have seen fit.
But yeah. Michael Jackson’s life and death tell us something about whiteness and blackness in this color, even beyond the late-night talk show one-liners. I am not sure I can articulate it as completely as I would like, though, so I will leave it at that.