"When it is darkest, men see the stars".

I hadn't really any idea that today was Michael Jackson's memorial at the Staples Center in Los Angeles, USA. This blog goes against most of what I feel appropriate to discuss; fame, stardom, the act of idolising mere people, but much within the same vein it is exactly appropriate for the larger topic at hand: Humanity.

I can't help but feel that within the next 50 years there will be no more of these 'stars' to mourn for. I have always felt that mourning for someone you did not know was practically vulgar, and self-gratifying. Contrary to this belief, I feel on a personal level I mourn for the essence of my childhood that he was a part of. My mother used to play "HIStory" every Saturday as she did the house cleaning, and of course, I would listen, but detest this involuntary attack upon my audition. Perhaps too, we mourn for the general sense of loss of someone who, despite being no more personal to us than a myth, or phantom, was an icon and presence within our lives for such a great time. And when I say "our" I mean even vicariously from those around us.

When I left my house today the sun had begun to shine, but by the time I was in town I could feel a deep downpour was coming. Needless to say, I was soon drenched head to toe, dripping, but holding my head high. I did not run, I did not scream - I walked calmly. Liberation. A thunderstorm in July.
I got inside, and dried myself off, changing my clothes, to see that people had begun watching MJ's memorial. I reluctantly switched onto CNN/Facebook's coverage. I suppose it is captivating to watch a single person surrounded by millions. How the words, music, and actions of a person can influence and affect the world. I caught up to Lionel Richie's performance onward, but replayed what I'd missed after the memorial.

It was both touching, and offensive to hear so many thanks toward Michael for opening the doors to African-Americans, and people of all manner of race and creed. Only offensive in the sense as it appeared at times to be somewhat of a rally, instead of a mourning. There are numerous forms of discrimination and yet race was only the real kind mentioned. To reduce a person who can longer speak in response, is perhaps, a little disrespectful. In any sense, it got me thinking about love, fear, hate and the spectrum of human interaction despite differences. I have never disliked any person because of a trait other than personality differences, but then, would it not be a better quality for me to possess to be able to appreciate and surpass the truth that some people are not my kind of people, and not become bitter over it? The trouble, I suppose, resides in the very nature of the 'dislike'. If we are inherently opposed, how are we able to overcome this? An integral part of this answer must surely be by leading by example. I could make the first move with several people in 'making amends' - even for troubles I have not propagated, but, I do not, because I do not want to. In this non-action I lead by non-example. A foul example.

It is easier to categorise people into groups: you need only look at Facebook et al to see this, we have embarked on a pixelated mission to organise and arrange our life and friendships into visibly neat little categories. "Friends", "University friends", "Family", "Partners", "Ex-partners". It is perhaps comforting to be able to do this, and a major part of Internet obsession. We de-humanise people so it is easier to hold grudges, gossip, and hate without due reason.
Recently I have felt that younger generations must be psychologically completely differently predisposed. What effects does growing up with the Internet have?
I have my theories. When you hear about the good one man, now lost, attempted to achieve, you can't help but take stock of your own life, and if you do not automatically do so then perhaps you should take a longer look in your fragile mirror.

Nothing I have said is novel, but I hope people find some truth within it.
I guess, my question is: Will people in future even try?

With no real recollection of the video, after the memorial the first song I listened to was "Stranger in Moscow" on youtube.com.
On the way home, in the rain, I had a packet of "Walkers" Salt n' Vinegar crisps in-hand and a homeless man asked without asking for some of them. I gave him a few from my packet. After I had walked a while, I realised I could have simply given him the entire packet itself.

Now of course, in time, these songs will adopt an even greater emphatic concern for my weary mind and heart.

I was wandering in the rain, mask of life, feelin' insane, swift and sudden fall from grace, sunny days seem far away, Kremlins shadow belittlin' me, Stalins tomb won't let me be, on and on and on it came, wish the rain would just let me..

How does it feel (how does it feel), how does it feel, how does it feel, when you're alone and you're cold inside.

Here abandoned in my fame, Armageddon of the brain, KGB was doggin' me, take my name and just let me be, then a begger boy called my name, happy days will drown the pain, on and on and on it came, and again, and again, and again...Take my name and just let me be..

How does it feel (how does it feel), how does it feel, how does it feel, how does it feel, how does it feel (how does it feel now), how does it feel, how does it feel, when you're alone and you're cold inside.

How does it feel (how does it feel), how does it feel, how does it feel, how does it feel, how does it feel (how does it feel now), how does it feel, how does it feel, when you're alone and you're cold inside.

Like stranger in Moscow, like stranger in Moscow, we're talkin' danger, we're talkin' danger, baby, like stranger in Moscow, we're talkin' danger, we're talkin' danger, baby, like stranger in Moscow, I'm livin' lonely, I'm livin' lonely, baby, stranger in Moscow.