Opening Jacko’s Box

Photograph: Shaan Kokin/Julien's Auctions

Sometimes it’s good to purge, to clean the house out from the accumulation of unnecessary clutter, the remnants of harder times, bad relationships.  A Spring Cleaning of  the Soul.  It is even more necessary when those rougher times have included the heights of world adulation plummeting to child molestation chareges, public mockery, intense identity crises, health issues, and a closet so full of skeletons you be Pere-Lachaise.  I am pretty sure that first picture says everything about the insanity of the Michael Jackson estate sale that needs to be said, but if not, this one may help:

Photograph: Shaan Kokin/Julien's Auctions

Look, none of this is intended to further mock Michael.  He has one of the saddest, weirdest stories in modern times.  Future historians are going to read of the fall of this King of Pop like we read Oedipus Rex or the Oresteia, full of betrayal, intrigue, the hubris of power, the fatal flaws of a lost man’s desire to find himself in a world bent to the extremes of love and hate.  Scheme, scheme, ye Gods and Fates, but pity this little man in sunglasses and a white glove, who opened up his talents and unleashed a world of furies.  In fact, someone should write that version of the Oresteia.  It would probably sell.