It’s Bad. That’s The Way You Make Me Feel.
I have no tears for Michael Jackson — I was a fan, I celebrated his life. What kills me is that millions of people mourned his passing — and that’s bullshit. For the last 15 years, everyone (literally everyone) took horrible, horrible jabs at Jackson for being too white or too weird or too into children or too much of a has-been. This is hypocrisy at its worst.
What most people don’t know is that Michael Jackson was a clever star. In the waning days of his career, he befriended B-list celebrities — like Uri Geller and David Blaine — knowing they may one day make it to the top, perhaps carrying him with them.
But this alone didn’t make him king. There’s something about a guy — however gay — who can berate a girl who’s turned him down, only to later sing and dance his way into her heart. Jackson had serious game.