The First Book of Michael

by Syl Mortilla

  My Michael nostalgia begins in 1987. But imagine those fans that saw that unique star as it began to twinkle in that coruscant dusk of 1969 – then followed its celestial trajectory all the way through to the dark dawn of 2009? That’s a whole gamut of Michael zeitgeist.

  The analogy of Michael’s lifetime being a nighttime is an interesting one. Michael always said that he was merely a conduit for the wishes of a higher being, such as how the moon is to the sun. The moon reflects light from the sun, which illuminates our darkness when the sun is not around, and in much the same way, Michael lit up the darker occasions of many of our lives. In turn, those that support and honour him, borrow light from him also.

  There is a faction of fans that call themselves ‘Moonwalkers’. The original name for the dance-move now universally recognised as the ‘Moonwalk’, was the rather insipid, ‘backslide’. Michael premiered the move on Motown 25: the show, which - fittingly - fired him into the stratosphere and transformed him into the most luminous superstar the planet had ever seen. Michael’s sincere intent and corresponding actions in changing the world for the better began on that night, and continued for the remainder of his corporeal existence. It’s up to all fans - Moonwalkers et al - to help ensure this continues.

  In the song ‘Cry’, the call-and-response between Michael and God illustrates Michael’s self-awareness of his mission perfectly: the closing words being Michael’s (or is it God’s?) instruction to “change the world”. Now Michael is gone, the call-and-response can even be interpreted as Michael talking to each and every one of his fans. Since Michael's death, to quote St. Teresa of Avila, his fans “…are the eyes with which he looks with compassion on this world”. ‘Cry’ has become the anthem for ‘World Cry Day’, marked by fans on 25 June - the anniversary of Michael’s passing.

  ***

  There’s a system of belief in which the idea is promoted that human beings, in-between our earthly existences, gather together with all the souls we are bound to encounter in our next corporeal adventure. The night of August 28th, 1958 must have been quite the event.

  The subsequent day, Katherine Jackson gave birth to her eighth child. Another boy. Her mother suggested she named him ‘Ronald’. Katherine - thankfully - ignored that, and opted for ‘Michael’ - after the patron saint of soldiers. A name that means “Who is like God”.

  Maybe at that pre-terrestrial meeting, Michael signed up for a corporeal life of sacrifice. That he courageously adopted the responsibility of being a messenger to attempt to guide humanity along a more peaceful path.

  This theory is something of a consolation when recalling the quagmire of sufferance Michael’s life became. As an erudite human being brought up in a Christian household, it’s impossible to consider that parallels between himself and Jesus Christ did not occur to him. Indeed – again, much to his critical detriment – Michael actively marketed Christ’s message to a capitalist society through his performances of ‘Earth Song’ at the Brits ’96 (recently voted the greatest Brits performance of all time) and again later the same year at the World Music Awards.

  In the HIStory track ‘Tabloid Junkie’ Michael even sings, “…with your pen you torture men / You’d crucify the Lord.”

  It is a travesty that the triumvirate of topics that people discuss regarding Michael does not automatically include his humanitarian efforts. Above all else, this should be the overarching one – the trinity that coalesces as one.

  Love survives. It is forever. From the physical ecstasy married with the discovery of true love, to the spiritual repercussions found in a steadfast love that has matured, fortified and been vindicated by faith.

  As Michael mused,

  “Hope is such a beautiful word, but it often seems very fragile. Life is still being needlessly hurt and destroyed. Because I believe the answer to be faith; not hope.”

  Yet, our stance on Michael’s message and his innocence is not about mere angles of moral perspective. It is about defending the reputation of an inordinately good man – in light of the facts, not faith.

  ***

  The silent pilot light of achieving one’s aspirations flickers persistently throughout an entire lifetime, though the cynicism of society relentlessly attempts to extinguish the flame. This self-sabotaging phenomenon is fuelled by an ubiquitous misbelief amongst the embittered, of their having missed the opportunity to fulfil their own dreams. This byproduct of envy is not the fault of those afflicted, however: more a logical consequence of the inherent difficulty in leaping over the ego and reacquainting themselves with the indomitable optimism embodied by their inner child.

  Fortunate people are blessed with having had faith instilled within themselves. This fortune is derived from the quality of being enlightened recipients of unconditional love and support. The peerless strength that comes with possessing an innate knowledge of being loved is what imbues the requisite confidence and courage vital for remaining stoic in actively advocating the validity of one’s intuited belief system, regardless of the bombardment of a sneering society.

  The pilot light of aspiration remains until a person’s dying day. During a lifetime, there are intermittent instances of inhaling breaths of inspiration that when exhaled potentiate the luminescence of the flame. As an elucidated entity of being loved, a person is accordingly bestowed with the self-belief that is required for the courage to follow the flame.

  We have arrived at such an instance. As Michael’s fans, every single one of us is loved unconditionally (let’s call it an occupational perk). Ergo, our collective inhalation of inspired breath, upon being exhaled, carries the potency required to combust Michael’s pilot light dream of a universally recognised reverence for childhood, into an incendiary reality.

  As fans, it is our responsibility to ensure that the sadness Michael was forced to endure makes sense in the end. That it meant something. Let us not allow the phenomenon that was Michael Jackson be a missed opportunity for an ambassador; an emblem; a paradigm of peace. Who knows when – or if – the world will ever know again anyone so universally recognised, whose sole intention was to help humanity evolve from its ubiquitous acts of bestial violence, and towards universally practiced ideals of peace? Michael encouraged the people of planet Earth to adopt his unprecedented fame and utilise it as a chance for global unity: as a catalyst for the positive progression of the human race. His life was one of self-sacrifice for our entertainment – it being the inimitable tragedy of Shakespearean proportions that it was.

  Surely, the fulfilment of Michael’s wish of him being a totem for love and understanding is not merely one he earnestly deserved, but one the world should be emphatically embracing? Or at least be grateful that he granted us the chance? People underestimate the fact that Michael was the most famous person on planet Earth. A heavy fact with unimaginable repercussions for the man. One day, people will envy our privilege as having been upon the same planet as a living Michael Jackson: a man that tried to teach that life itself is legacy; a man who endorsed the idea that each human being needs to care deeply about what happens to the next generation, and that this crucial wisdom for humanity’s future must be instilled in people as children. As the little girl’s voice that introduces ‘Heal The World’ states, “Think about the generations… they want to make the world a better place – for our children, and our children’s children.”

  History is a weapon in the battle for objectivity. Michael understood this (it’s an omnipresent motivational factor in the daily lives of his fans that now continuously defend him in the face of relentless attempts to bastardise his very own history. Even, seemingly, by those currently occupying the helm of his Estate).

  The Arab Spring that began in 2010 demonstrated the incredible power to create positive change that lies patiently poised within postmodern media practices. The bestial vindictiveness that is the predictable backlash from traditional media outlets attempting to nullify these occurrences is something that Michael fought in the face of, every day. Michael was th
e magnetic musician of the people, a musical angel who defied expectations thrust upon him by this close-minded media. He challenged them, and in doing so, sacrificed his life. We must make the most of the bittersweet fruits borne of a uniquely oppressed childhood and subsequently misunderstood adulthood. We must undo the damage done by the demonic. We must be brave in outing and ousting the bullies. We owe it to Michael. We owe it to his mission. In the developed world, children have been removed from workhouses and relieved of their yokes, and have been granted rights instead. Michael is a catalyst for this achievable ideal to be made the norm across the entire globe. Michael could see that the time and technology was imminent for the mass utilisation of free information and communication for the doing of good. Michael was a man worth believing in; Michael was a visionary; Michael was a prophet.

  We must incorporate arguments such as those contained within this book into Michael’s legacy. So that the truth and the love survives, regardless of the bombardment of greed it has to endure by the unscrupulous nature of the people currently at the helm. One of my main motivations for writing this book was to assist in ensuring that there is something out there, somewhere, that exposes both the extent of Michael’s genius and how he chose to utilise it for an intent of such purity, regardless of an attempted weathering of it motivated by myriad reasons. Michael’s legacy will endure to legend. The only question is what the myths entwined within that legend will entail. This book is an effort to balance the legend in Michael’s favour: ballast that counters the attempted promulgation of him as a pop caricature, and promotes him as a prophet.

  Prior to Neverland and Michael’s attempt at creating a safe haven for innocence; prior to the Pepsi promo burning incident (occurring on the exact middle day of his life) that introduced him to the ephemeral relief of prescription painkillers; prior to the mass media opprobrium; prior to the child molestation allegations, Michael was interviewed candidly in the gardens of the Encino family home. The interview was later commercially released, much to his dismay. In said video, dubbed Unauthorised, Michael is seen crooning at the night sky – astonished, inspired and bewildered by the beauty of it all. High on nature and his unique connection to its elements, he feels he can fly, and dances as if he’s a bird taking flight. Or, perhaps – a butterfly.

  Michael’s lifelong martyrdom ensured that he earned those wings.

  And though the sun may set – remember, we glow by the moon.

  AFTERWORD

  One of the many things that Michael said which has stuck with me, was how he spoke of his admiration for people that used their talents to further the prospects of children. This is what I aspire to do.

  My ambition as a writer is to help enrich the lives of children. As well as my writings on Michael, I am also a children’s author. I have written a biography on Michael Jackson, and my hope is that I can utilise the success of the book to generate publicity for my children’s books. They are written in the spirit of Michael, and as such, I will be donating a percentage of all sales to the non-profit organisation, Michael Jackson’s Legacy (http://www.michaeljacksonslegacy.org).

  More works from Syl Mortilla coming very soon.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I always assumed that by the point I’d got to the Acknowledgements section, I’d be delirious with relief; what with it being the ultimate full-stop. The reality is hitherto inexperienced levels of anxiety upon emancipating these words from the security of my computer and into the world of critical analysis.

  This book is the product of the accumulated knowledge of twenty-five years of fanhood. A fanhood like no other with regards the extent of ad hominem opprobrium suffered by its membership. I’d like to thank every member of our much-maligned community who has stood up and been counted in our fight to defend our hero’s legacy.

  Special thanks go to my friend and agent Samar Habib, for his unwavering support - both practically, in his proofreading and cover design capabilities, as well as spiritually, in his capacity to inspire and encourage. Indeed, the very first blog post that formed the foundations for this book was borne as a result of his encouragement.

  Similarly, I must thank Christina Drake – her wisdom and unrelenting faith in my ambitions as a writer have been crucial in the production of this book. I love you.

  It’s difficult to express the immense gratitude I have for Karen Faye, Harrison Funk and Lena Wilson as to their contributions in making my book look so beautiful and lending my words such credence. I am indebted. Thank you to you all for your kindness, and for inspiring me with the bravery of honesty. To Karen, for your recommendation that Michael never did things by halves.

  I have many, many people to thank for helping me write this book:

  My brother, Andrew, who started it all with that Thriller cassette.

  People who have afforded me their time in proofreading: Thomas Hannan; Jessica Lockyear.

  People who have afforded me food whilst I obstinately refused to acquiesce to full-time employment: Mum and Dad; Gran and Grandad; Thomas Hannan; Jessica Lockyear; Sarah Tymms; Peter Mills; Phil Rust; Charlie Thomson.

  Charlie Thomson once again, for your caring - and also to the rest of the MJFU crew for their intelligence, objectivity, and insults. What a family.

  MJFU individuals in particular: Morganna Bramah; Sandra “Furnace” De La Vega Anderson (and her MJTalks ladies); Mari Belfort; Daniel Skinner; Ryan Michaels; Amanda Mands; Alexei Penfold.

  Alexei Penfold once again, for your illustrative work when I was trying to find a cover design. The same goes for Karin Merx – thank you so much for the time and effort you put in. Your illustrations were beautiful, I hope they come in useful one day. Thanks also to Karin’s colleagues at MJAS.

  Fellow blogger Damien Shields and the A Truth Untold team.

  ***

  Each and every time my daughters asked me to stay and play with them, and I had to tell them that I had to leave as I was writing a book, it splintered my heart. They saw my hesitance in having to go, but told me it was fine - so long as I promised to write them a letter to include in the book:

  Dear Myla and Sylva,

  This book is about the potency of faith and dreams; how the silent pilot light of potentiating one’s aspirations persists throughout an entire lifetime. It is about the fragility of human nature, with one of its consequences being that other people will attempt to extinguish the flame.

  Though no-one does this with an innate malicious intent. It is due to an all-too common and tragic belief held by some that they have missed the opportunity to fulfil their own dreams. This sorrowful mindset is made manifest through expressions the very antithesis of faith and dreams: envy and cynicism. Evil does not exist, only lack of love. Bombard any situation with patient love and anything will heal.

  Fortunate people are blessed with having had faith instilled with themselves. I have entire faith in you. This quality of being a recipient of unconditional love and support is the very essence of this book. It is about actively advocating the validity of your intuited belief system, regardless of any perceived detriment. Either to others or yourself. The most natural thing in the world is to understand what the right thing to do is, yet apprehensively opt in delaying to act upon its truth. Everyone’s dreams of contentment are different, but whatever yours may be, make sure you take them by the scruff of their necks and drag them into reality. As Charles Dickens wrote, “'Procrastination is the thief of time, collar him.'

  The pilot light remains until your dying day. During your time of being alive, there are frequent instances of inhaling an inspiration that when exhaled would potentiate the luminescence of the flame. Life is about learning to recognise these moments whilst possessing a capacity for self-belief that bestows enough courage to follow the flame. The fire will not always combust to a satisfactorily spectacular level. Because life is also about perseverance and industry. Acquiring the requisite level of fitness to exhale purposely enough to embolden the pilot light in order to illuminate it to its p
erfect potential requires training. You must work at your craft. But to succeed it must be a craft that excites your heart. There will be lulls. They will provoke doubt and anxiety. But you know what you’re good at. And don’t let anyone dictate otherwise.

  With such a profound and infinite love that is inherently impossible to express in words,

  Daddy.