#also i liked how they reference the fact mr. puzzles looks like Vox by having mario go after him lmao

[bellatheinkdemon]

Well I know what I'm saving my money on

[ekakinomi-forgrownups]

Questioning Neverland--My Thoughts On the Michael Jackson Controversy And Idol Worship In General

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Warning!

The following post deals with a disturbing, but important social issue that I feel people should know about. If you’re not in the mood to read that, however, use that symbol as a reminder to back away from this post and read another one.

10 days ago, HBO released a documentary called “Leaving Neverland”, which out-lines the lives of two men, Wade Robson and James Safechuck, who explain they were sexually abused by pop mega-star Michael Jackson as young boys for years, in disturbing detail.

The documentary explains how Mr. Jackson used a friendly facade to “befriend” the then-super-fans Robson and Safechuck at different times, and used his super-star glamour to charm and enchant their mothers into letting their little boys stay with this man (who, in both cases, only knew him for a few hours) at his Neverland Ranch, a sort of indoor amusement park for kids…which served a much more devious purpose than just a fun getaway with their favorite pop idol.

Because Mr. Jackson’s favorite attraction at that “park” was, in fact, his bed–where he took the boys almost immediately after meeting them…so that he could start touching them inappropriately, on a regular basis, for years and years–as if these innocent children were just his play-things. And many witnesses report that there were a lot more where that came from–no girls, no men, no women–just little boys. He even went as far as to buy an engagement ring for James Safechuck! (*shudders!*) And to ensure that nobody knew about this “dirty little secret”, he lied to the boys’ parents, brain-washed the boys into thinking that this was how people “show love” to one another, and anybody who would dare tell on him would either get paid huge sums of money to be quiet or be threatened with anything from jail-time to death.

This documentary practically shook the world when it came out–America in particular. It seems everybody’s taking sides now– one side who absolutely won’t defend him after what he did to innocent children, and another side, mostly loyal followers and family members (the Jackson Estate tried to stop HBO from releasing this documentary at first) who say that these men are compulsive liars and/or just out for his money, and that Jackson was just an innocent, child-like weirdo.

And then you’ll find people like me, who don’t know the real truth, and are confused and completely conflicted as to whether it’s better to burn or hug their posters and record collections. Now, I’m not saying I’m a fan of his work myself–but I have experienced this dilemma many times over the course of my life. In a different way than most, however.

You see, it’s odd, but when an autistic person loves something (and that can be anything from a pop star to, say, a pretty color scheme on a fictional character), they feel this sense of true love for that particular thing, and like it could never do us wrong in any way. So when anything even remotely bad does happen (and that can be anything from the character changing designs and getting an ugly new color scheme to the pop star turning out to be an abusive scum-bag), it’s complete emotional turmoil, and we feel like the thing we love had just been ruined for us forever. And this happens for two reasons–1. Autistics tend to think of things only one way or the other, and it’s weird for us to think of something in a neutral way. And 2., we’re way too emotional. Neurotypical (“normal”) people tend to think that we’re not able to feel any complex emotions or empathy. The truth of it is, we actually feel too many–far more than we can express sometimes.

There was a point where I felt like everything I love has been “ruined” for me at some point. To name just a few examples: “The Amazing World Of Gumball” had its aesthetic changed to something I don’t like after its first season. “Pastel Yumi”, a magical girl anime I really liked when I watched the first episode, turned out to have loads of fan-service (meaning characters acting sexy to please the audience) of the 10-year old protagonist. The “My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic” toys only became better-built and actually accurate to the show after I stopped liking the show (I stopped watching it after Season 3). And speaking of My Little Pony, even though I think Nightmare Moon had the prettiest color scheme of any character on the show, I’d feel bad for liking her more than Princess Luna, because call me a goody-two-shoes, but I usually don’t root for evil characters. And, the same goes for the Once-Ler from “The Lorax”.

Since then I’ve changed a lot, and I’ve started finding ways to cope with most of these things and “un-ruin” them…but that’s because they’re all small things, mostly media of different types. I feel very differently on the matter of real people–which brings me back to empathy. While I’m all for #MeToo, it also devastated me. Not because a lot of my favorite creators and directors were being put out of jobs–but because they turned out to be horrible human beings that only think of women as helpless toys that they can stalk, grab and kiss whenever they want. I’ve never been in any of these situations (*knocks on wood*), but just hearing the fact that beautiful, innocent people are getting treated this badly just boils my blood and, at the same time, makes me want to cry for years.

Yet that still doesn’t stop me from watching the kids’ sit-coms created by Dan Schneider or the Disney/Pixar movies directed by John Lasseter, and it doesn’t stop me from wanting to check out The Loud House, which was created by Chris Savino.  All the men mentioned here were very talented, but all sexual predators themselves. Which brings me back to Michael Jackson.

He was a house-hold name when I was a kid, and my first knowledge of him came from both “The Simpsons” episode “Stark Raving Dad”, which featured his uncredited voice, and the Jackson 5 song “ABC”. But I got my first real exposure to his artistry and music during my Dad’s 50th birth-day party last October, where we all sat around, ate cake and watched music videos, and we played several of his hits in a row. I fell in love with the song “Remember The Time”. I also binge-watched that corny “Jackson 5ive” cartoon from the 70’s (which featured a huge portion of their early catalogue) the following November. So to be exposed to such amazing talent and good looks only to be compelled to forget about it all a few months later because he was a horrible person certainly boggled my mind a little. (Bad or confused reactions to sudden changes in plans are another casualty of autism which can be difficult to handle at times).

Suddenly, I begun to seriously ponder my own morals. If I’m a so-called “social justice warrior”, then how can I possibly still enjoy work made by awful people? If I care about minorities so much, then why do I still get joy out of art made by people who obviously don’t care about them? If I can’t bring myself to sympathize with people with such horrible attitudes, then why is it so hard to just ignore them completely? It’s going against my character, and it’s going against my own common sense. Yet if I push these things out of my life, my life will turn up-side-down. What’s a poor puzzled panuki like me to do?

Well, if there’s one up-side to this whole Michael Jackson thing, it’s that it gave the entire world a huge lesson in the dangers of idol worship. So naturally, everybody else is writing about the same types of issues I’m having with this, and how they choose to resolve them. I looked at some of the things they wrote for answers. After looking at the opinions of several different people, I finally found the one article that rang with me the most, and it was written by Constance Grady of Vox. It’s called “What do we do when the art we love was created by a monster?”. You can read it here, but to put it more shortly, this woman basically looked to 3 different literary professors for advice and reference, and they all explained different ways of separating art from artist through different types of methods, created by classical literature theorists. Ms. Grady presented each one in her article, and how it works, to show that there are many different ways of handling a situation like this. To quote Ms. Grady: “All these tools are there, just waiting for me, just as they are waiting for you. And the moment we start to question how we should think about any work of art, we can pick them up and wield them accordingly.”

Another helpful piece of advice came, believe it or not, from Pete Davidson of “Saturday Night Live”, who gave a surprisingly insightful lecture on the “Weekend Update” segment of the show that basically said, that it’s OK if it feels right to let some artists go. But if there’s another artist whose work resonates with you on a personal level so much that they’ve become a part of your heart, you shouldn’t put them out of your life completely. But you should acknowledge that these people did bad things each time you enjoy their work. Basically, that just because someone is talented doesn’t mean that they’re just as good on the inside, and you should acknowledge that. One of the things he said was very smart: “Any time any of us listen to a song or watch a movie made by an accused serial predator, you have to donate a dollar to a charity that helps sexual assault survivors.” After reading all these articles, I found my final, set-in-stone stance on the matter, that bridges the gap between my morals and my enjoyment of a piece of art. Here’s what I think:

If you really don’t like what an artist did in real life, then directly rooting that to their art will only give the real person power over your brain, your fun, your happiness. My mommy told me that no matter what the original artist intended, a piece of art stands alone, and is open to interpretation by anybody who looks at it. Anybody. It’s what she told me to help me understand the appeal of abstract art. And on top of helping me separate art from artist, it also helps me read (some) fan-fiction without cringing, watch modern adaptations of classic books without being to critical, and on top of it all, it also mirrors the Barthes and Livingstone theory mentioned in Constance Grady’s Vox article.

Besides, acknowledging or enjoying their work doesn’t necessarily mean I support the people behind it (as far as their companies are concerned, at least). To these famous people, money is one of the most important things in the world–a lot of times, more important than other people. So unless you have some money to throw out, you’re completely anonymous as far as they’re concerned, because you’re not rewarding them for their work, even if you enjoy it.

The only time I’ll completely make an exception with any artist is if the work they make is too similar to their real life. For example, the Cartoon Network show “Clarence” is about a boy…named Clarence…who has a positive attitude, but things and does things in very weird ways. An eerie mirroring of Skyler Page, the creator, who was fired from Cartoon Network for grabbing the breasts of a crew member for “Adventure Time”, and was later revealed to be a complete mental case…by one of his best friends, who turned out to be the inspiration for one of Clarence’s own friends! (*shudders again!*)

The same thing is very real for R. Kelly, an R&B singer who I never took interest in or even listened to, but who is said to have a catalogue full of highly sexual songs, a lot of which regard age differences and mutual consent. (*shudders one last time.*)

As for Michael Jackson…I don’t really associate his songs or performances with his real self because, if you really think about it, it’s pretty obvious that his pop persona was way different from that. a lot of his popular hits never mention hanging out with little boys. He mentions girls, a lot of which actually prey on him…he also never mentions any of his child-like interests that he had in real life…in fact, I think the only connection the artist Michael has with the real Michael are a few songs that are based on the good side of him (his humanitarian values) and those that are based on his awful childhood, where he himself was abused (not sexually, but still abused) as a boy…which could actually be one of his reasons behind his own abuse crimes. Almost as if he had this secret mentality, like “if I couldn’t have a childhood, then no boy will.” Or maybe he became overly obsessed with male children because he felt like he was getting back a piece of his life that was stolen from him, but expressed his love and sentimentality for it in the most disgusting way possible. I’m not excusing it at all, I think it was still horrible and completely uncalled for. These are just a few theories I had.

Yes, these are all just my personal opinions. And of course, you shouldn’t take that, or any of my personal opinions, as the gospel truth just because you’re reading my blog–everybody has their own individual opinions. And if you haven’t really formed your own, I suggest getting opinions from everyone and everything around you–your friends, your parents, other news sources, other blogs–and see what other people have to say on the matter, and let what you find help you form your own. It’s just like building a puzzle–it takes more than one piece of information to get the full picture.

As for my big picture, the real Michael Jackson doesn’t exist, as far as I’m concerned, and doesn’t deserve to. Just his character that he plays on the stage. And just like the rest of the male characters I’m attracted to, he’s someone I’d never want to be around in real life–just pretty, talented, and charismatic. And in a world where always thinking about the little things can drive you completely insane, sometimes that’s all that really matters.