RIP Michael Jackson, the King of POP

When I read the news this morning, the one that shocked me the most is the announcement of the death of Michael the Wacko. I grew up listening to his music, thrilled to his MTVs and still even now, still occasionally blast his music out loud at home when no one else was in. Yes, I’m a fan of his. Not shy to admit it.

Michael, whose lifetime of hits sold more than 750 million albums worldwide, whose landmark Thriller broke records and racial divides, whose smooth moves revolutionized dance as much as pop, and whose penchant for headline-making helped burnish his brand, and, following child-abuse allegations, helped tarnish it as well, died today after being found unconscious at his Los Angeles-area home.

Jackson suffered a heart attack around noon, according to father Joe Jackson, and never recovered. He was prounced dead at 2:26 p.m., officials said.

Music’s eternal Peter Pan was 50. Michael has left the building, riding his speed demon bike on an eternal path filled with music.

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