Jun 26, 2009
This is a big world, with many remote corners where America is known
only as a distant and different land. But Michael Jackson touched
almost all of them.
The music star's death Thursday, at age 50 after suffering an apparent cardiac arrest is an international event. And we ought to recognize why that is so.
For all the eccentric - and ultimately unsettling - behavior that
would see the "king of pop" ridiculed as the "king of weird" --or
worse-- Jackson was for a significant part of the 1980s and 1990s as
much or more the face of America as Ronald Reagan, George H.W. Bush or
Bill Clinton.
"He brought human beings together across the barriers of race and
class and gender," explained Michael Eric Dyson, the author and
commentator who is a professor of sociology at Georgetown University.
"He projected into the world (the genius and strength) of
African-American culture."
The better part of a quarter century before Barack Obama was
credited with remaking America's global image, Michael Jackson
presented the United States as a country where an African-American kid
from Gary, Indiana, could on the basis of remarkable talent and drive
-- as well as a musicologist's understanding of the soul and R&B
traditions -- become fabulously successful, fabulously influential and
fabulously wealthy.
"For all his tragic flaws as a human being, Jackson could legitimately be seen as the greatest entertainer of his generation," argues Richard Williams,
the former head of head of artists and repertoire at Island Records who
went on to become a savvy cultural commentator for Britain's Guardian
newspaper.
One did not need to revere Jackson or his music to recognize that at a
particular point in this country's long and complicated history of
wrestling with its better angels and uglier demons, the singer
projected to the world the sense and the promise of a multicultural and
tolerant United States. Hip-hop empresario Russell Simmons summed it
up: "Michael Jackson was my generation's most iconic cultural hero."
For a time, on the basis of the enormous popularity of his Off the Wall, Thriller and Bad albums, he was not just a dominant figure in popular music. He was the dominant figure in popular music.
Inducted twice into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame - as a solo artist
and as a member of the Jackson 5 -- he earned 13 Grammy Awards and 13
number one singles as a solo performer -- achieving worldwide sales in
excess of 750 million albums.
The key word is "worldwide."
Jackson's 1991 hit "Black or White" charted at number one in the
Australia , Austria, Belgium, Cuba, Denmark, Finland, France, Israel,
Italy, Mexico, New Zealand, Norway, Spain, Sweden, the Unites Kingdom,
Zimbabwe and, of course, the United States.
"Black or White" was an angry song with an anti-racist message that
was reinforced by a video digitally enhanced to show Jackson smashing
windows with graffiti reading "KKK Rules" and "No More Wetbacks." The
ubiquitous video featured the singer dancing with Africans, Asians,
Native Americans, southern Asians and Russians.
Jackson was not an expressly political artist
-- he told Ebony magazine in 1992 that "I never get into politics."
Yet, because of his immense celebrity in the 1980s and early 1990s, his
determination to treat people with AIDs respectfully (like that of
Princess Diana and Elizabeth Taylor) took on significance that was both
political and cultural. That commitment was most on display, following
the death of Ryan White, when Jackson used public appearances -
particularly one at Bill Clinton's inaugural gala -- to plead for more
funding of HIV/AIDS research and care.
Jackson's charities were many: programs for refugees and the victims
of violence such as Warchild, the "We Are the World" project and his
own Heal the World Foundation, as well as the the Nelson Mandela
Children's Fund, the Red Cross, UNESCO and for many years the United
Negro College Fund.
His stumbles, especially in recent years, were disturbing, at times
horrifying. There was about this desperate manchild more than a hint of
the tragic and self-destructive.
The tragedy and the trials will be remembered, for a time.
But, as with Elvis Presley and so many brilliant artists whose lives
ended after their stars had been tarnished, it will be the iconic
influence - an influence stretching across boundaries of race, class,
gender and nationality -- that is most remembered when we speak of
Michael Jackson, and the ultimately most significant.
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John Nichols
John Nichols is Washington correspondent for The Nation and associate editor of The Capital Times in Madison, Wisconsin. His books co-authored with Robert W. McChesney are: "Dollarocracy: How the Money and Media Election Complex is Destroying America" (2014), "The Death and Life of American Journalism: The Media Revolution that Will Begin the World Again" (2011), and "Tragedy & Farce: How the American Media Sell Wars, Spin Elections, and Destroy Democracy" (2006). Nichols' other books include: "The "S" Word: A Short History of an American Tradition...Socialism" (2015), "Dick: The Man Who is President (2004) and "The Genius of Impeachment: The Founders' Cure for Royalism" (2006).
This is a big world, with many remote corners where America is known
only as a distant and different land. But Michael Jackson touched
almost all of them.
The music star's death Thursday, at age 50 after suffering an apparent cardiac arrest is an international event. And we ought to recognize why that is so.
For all the eccentric - and ultimately unsettling - behavior that
would see the "king of pop" ridiculed as the "king of weird" --or
worse-- Jackson was for a significant part of the 1980s and 1990s as
much or more the face of America as Ronald Reagan, George H.W. Bush or
Bill Clinton.
"He brought human beings together across the barriers of race and
class and gender," explained Michael Eric Dyson, the author and
commentator who is a professor of sociology at Georgetown University.
"He projected into the world (the genius and strength) of
African-American culture."
The better part of a quarter century before Barack Obama was
credited with remaking America's global image, Michael Jackson
presented the United States as a country where an African-American kid
from Gary, Indiana, could on the basis of remarkable talent and drive
-- as well as a musicologist's understanding of the soul and R&B
traditions -- become fabulously successful, fabulously influential and
fabulously wealthy.
"For all his tragic flaws as a human being, Jackson could legitimately be seen as the greatest entertainer of his generation," argues Richard Williams,
the former head of head of artists and repertoire at Island Records who
went on to become a savvy cultural commentator for Britain's Guardian
newspaper.
One did not need to revere Jackson or his music to recognize that at a
particular point in this country's long and complicated history of
wrestling with its better angels and uglier demons, the singer
projected to the world the sense and the promise of a multicultural and
tolerant United States. Hip-hop empresario Russell Simmons summed it
up: "Michael Jackson was my generation's most iconic cultural hero."
For a time, on the basis of the enormous popularity of his Off the Wall, Thriller and Bad albums, he was not just a dominant figure in popular music. He was the dominant figure in popular music.
Inducted twice into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame - as a solo artist
and as a member of the Jackson 5 -- he earned 13 Grammy Awards and 13
number one singles as a solo performer -- achieving worldwide sales in
excess of 750 million albums.
The key word is "worldwide."
Jackson's 1991 hit "Black or White" charted at number one in the
Australia , Austria, Belgium, Cuba, Denmark, Finland, France, Israel,
Italy, Mexico, New Zealand, Norway, Spain, Sweden, the Unites Kingdom,
Zimbabwe and, of course, the United States.
"Black or White" was an angry song with an anti-racist message that
was reinforced by a video digitally enhanced to show Jackson smashing
windows with graffiti reading "KKK Rules" and "No More Wetbacks." The
ubiquitous video featured the singer dancing with Africans, Asians,
Native Americans, southern Asians and Russians.
Jackson was not an expressly political artist
-- he told Ebony magazine in 1992 that "I never get into politics."
Yet, because of his immense celebrity in the 1980s and early 1990s, his
determination to treat people with AIDs respectfully (like that of
Princess Diana and Elizabeth Taylor) took on significance that was both
political and cultural. That commitment was most on display, following
the death of Ryan White, when Jackson used public appearances -
particularly one at Bill Clinton's inaugural gala -- to plead for more
funding of HIV/AIDS research and care.
Jackson's charities were many: programs for refugees and the victims
of violence such as Warchild, the "We Are the World" project and his
own Heal the World Foundation, as well as the the Nelson Mandela
Children's Fund, the Red Cross, UNESCO and for many years the United
Negro College Fund.
His stumbles, especially in recent years, were disturbing, at times
horrifying. There was about this desperate manchild more than a hint of
the tragic and self-destructive.
The tragedy and the trials will be remembered, for a time.
But, as with Elvis Presley and so many brilliant artists whose lives
ended after their stars had been tarnished, it will be the iconic
influence - an influence stretching across boundaries of race, class,
gender and nationality -- that is most remembered when we speak of
Michael Jackson, and the ultimately most significant.
John Nichols
John Nichols is Washington correspondent for The Nation and associate editor of The Capital Times in Madison, Wisconsin. His books co-authored with Robert W. McChesney are: "Dollarocracy: How the Money and Media Election Complex is Destroying America" (2014), "The Death and Life of American Journalism: The Media Revolution that Will Begin the World Again" (2011), and "Tragedy & Farce: How the American Media Sell Wars, Spin Elections, and Destroy Democracy" (2006). Nichols' other books include: "The "S" Word: A Short History of an American Tradition...Socialism" (2015), "Dick: The Man Who is President (2004) and "The Genius of Impeachment: The Founders' Cure for Royalism" (2006).
This is a big world, with many remote corners where America is known
only as a distant and different land. But Michael Jackson touched
almost all of them.
The music star's death Thursday, at age 50 after suffering an apparent cardiac arrest is an international event. And we ought to recognize why that is so.
For all the eccentric - and ultimately unsettling - behavior that
would see the "king of pop" ridiculed as the "king of weird" --or
worse-- Jackson was for a significant part of the 1980s and 1990s as
much or more the face of America as Ronald Reagan, George H.W. Bush or
Bill Clinton.
"He brought human beings together across the barriers of race and
class and gender," explained Michael Eric Dyson, the author and
commentator who is a professor of sociology at Georgetown University.
"He projected into the world (the genius and strength) of
African-American culture."
The better part of a quarter century before Barack Obama was
credited with remaking America's global image, Michael Jackson
presented the United States as a country where an African-American kid
from Gary, Indiana, could on the basis of remarkable talent and drive
-- as well as a musicologist's understanding of the soul and R&B
traditions -- become fabulously successful, fabulously influential and
fabulously wealthy.
"For all his tragic flaws as a human being, Jackson could legitimately be seen as the greatest entertainer of his generation," argues Richard Williams,
the former head of head of artists and repertoire at Island Records who
went on to become a savvy cultural commentator for Britain's Guardian
newspaper.
One did not need to revere Jackson or his music to recognize that at a
particular point in this country's long and complicated history of
wrestling with its better angels and uglier demons, the singer
projected to the world the sense and the promise of a multicultural and
tolerant United States. Hip-hop empresario Russell Simmons summed it
up: "Michael Jackson was my generation's most iconic cultural hero."
For a time, on the basis of the enormous popularity of his Off the Wall, Thriller and Bad albums, he was not just a dominant figure in popular music. He was the dominant figure in popular music.
Inducted twice into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame - as a solo artist
and as a member of the Jackson 5 -- he earned 13 Grammy Awards and 13
number one singles as a solo performer -- achieving worldwide sales in
excess of 750 million albums.
The key word is "worldwide."
Jackson's 1991 hit "Black or White" charted at number one in the
Australia , Austria, Belgium, Cuba, Denmark, Finland, France, Israel,
Italy, Mexico, New Zealand, Norway, Spain, Sweden, the Unites Kingdom,
Zimbabwe and, of course, the United States.
"Black or White" was an angry song with an anti-racist message that
was reinforced by a video digitally enhanced to show Jackson smashing
windows with graffiti reading "KKK Rules" and "No More Wetbacks." The
ubiquitous video featured the singer dancing with Africans, Asians,
Native Americans, southern Asians and Russians.
Jackson was not an expressly political artist
-- he told Ebony magazine in 1992 that "I never get into politics."
Yet, because of his immense celebrity in the 1980s and early 1990s, his
determination to treat people with AIDs respectfully (like that of
Princess Diana and Elizabeth Taylor) took on significance that was both
political and cultural. That commitment was most on display, following
the death of Ryan White, when Jackson used public appearances -
particularly one at Bill Clinton's inaugural gala -- to plead for more
funding of HIV/AIDS research and care.
Jackson's charities were many: programs for refugees and the victims
of violence such as Warchild, the "We Are the World" project and his
own Heal the World Foundation, as well as the the Nelson Mandela
Children's Fund, the Red Cross, UNESCO and for many years the United
Negro College Fund.
His stumbles, especially in recent years, were disturbing, at times
horrifying. There was about this desperate manchild more than a hint of
the tragic and self-destructive.
The tragedy and the trials will be remembered, for a time.
But, as with Elvis Presley and so many brilliant artists whose lives
ended after their stars had been tarnished, it will be the iconic
influence - an influence stretching across boundaries of race, class,
gender and nationality -- that is most remembered when we speak of
Michael Jackson, and the ultimately most significant.
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