I don’t know, it’s like, a major part of living in America consists of having to live side by side with people who spend the lion’s share of their waking hours looking for somebody to nail upon a cross. They become hotly indignant that you aren’t as indignant as they are, that you’re not as fiery in your convictions as they are; that you, God forbid, have actually applied some cerebral matter to the matter, and have the temerity to offer a differing scenario of events than the one that they’ve convinced themselves beyond a reasonable doubt must have happened, despite the absence of hard evidence, or corroborating evidence, or, for that matter, reason itself.
For example, we have the continuing bleating, wailing, and gnashing of teeth over the mourning of the passing of one Michael Jackson. There are those who moan about how a pedophile managed to garner such attention in death, how dare we ignore the deaths of worthy servicemen and women in Iraq and Afghanistan, what does it say about our society that we all worship a convicted pedophile, this man who stalked little boys, blah blah blah blah blah.
Especially prominent in this chorus is Congressman Peter King (R-NY). He’s been going on about this. Isn’t it amazing how Republicans obscenely wrap themselves around men and women in uniform, sanctimoniously waving their service and sacrifice like checkered flags at a NASCAR track, while almost all of them in Congress have voted to cut their benefits? Isn’t it a shame no one sees fit to call them on this? Well, either way, we have Pete King, this verbally flatulent loudmouth, shouting righteous indignation over this Michael Jackson business. Tsk tsk.
I wasn’t there at Neverland when any of the alleged events occurred, or didn’t occur. I don’t know if Michael Jackson committed any crimes; I wasn’t present. Here’s what I do know: the motives of the plaintiffs involved were very, very questionable. Here’s the deal: if it was my boy involved in any of this, I figure here’s the gravy train- I can just accuse Michael Jackson of having committed sexual assault on my son. Given the circumstances of how Mr. Jackson lived his life, the burden of proof would not be on my son in a perceptive manner, but on Mr. Jackson. I figure, he’s an opportunity for someone else to pay for my son’s college education, without me having to worry about it down the road. And, wouldn’t there be enough for a new car? And, a very nice vacation, among other things? Hey, look, Mike, you’re a nice guy, we know that, but what’s twenty million dollars to you? How tempting. Do I think he did these things? Maybe. Maybe not. None of it was ever proven, but like I said, the plaintiffs had motive. I think a more likely scenario would be that Jackson had shown appalling judgement in how he lived his life, and let himself be used and abused, over and over again. I also think that my thesis holds water vis-à-vis the plaintiffs- after the first incident, if you weren’t planning to gain access to the man’s wallet, why would you let your child within ten miles of him?
There’s no surprise, of course, that someone in Congress would go on about this subject like he does. He assumes things. So do I. Could I possibly be blamed for assuming that HE’S got a refrigerator in his basement with $100,000 cash stashed inside? Or, he’s trysting with male hustlers in a public bathroom stall someplace? Can I automatically assume he’s either running, or in cahoots with someone involved in, a money laundering operation dealing with hundreds of thousands, or even millions of dollars? Why wouldn’t I?
The people out there who hold themselves up as a professional troupe of characters chasing metaphoric Frankenstein monsters with flaming torches will never be satisfied with anything other than a resolution to their own blood lust. They have to look for someone- anyone- to nail upon a cross, as a way of resolving frustrations in their lives that seem insurmountable. You have trouble paying bills, you’re stymied by health issues you can’t snap your fingers and make disappear, you’re worried about the safety of your children in school, or at play, your car’s acting up, your favorite team’s on the skids, your job’s in jeopardy because of the ailing economy- why would you give a flying fuck about who’s mourning Michael Jackson, or celebrating his life? For what reason?
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