The last part of Michael Jackson has finally died. And I am not sure that his passing is any sadder than the passing of any other person in our world. But what does seem sad is the journey from the days of the Jackson Five to wherever it is that he ended up. Of course I make these observations as someone who has only ever been, like most of us, part of a distant and public audience to his life. But to have any interest in music, dance, pop culture or indeed the rise of celebrity in our socities is to be aware of Michael Jackson. To me as an occasional audience member, he clearly physically altered over time. He, as far as I know, stopped performing. Whenever he did turn up in public, the appearances I saw always seemed choregraphed and unnatural.

To my very distant eye, he seemed to fall prey to fame and fortune, and possibly to his own unique talent and possibly to the desires and expectations of others. Possibly his own. I think he could dance. Despite the so heavily edited video clips which could make just about anyone look like a fabulous mover, I suspect he was a terrific and quite unique mover.

I only saw, as an accidental observer in the western world, tiny bits of his life. It looked glamorous and yet not particularly desirable. And of course I might have it all wrong. He may have had a deeply meaningful and happy life. It would be nice to think so.

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