Stop The Madness!



After (image via thisislondon)



-- Before; portrait of Latoya as a black woman. (image via thisislondon)

Plastic surgery is, clearly, not a branch of medicine encumbered by Hippocrates (The Corsair sips a glass of Joseph Phelps 1992 Cabernet Sauvignon)Would that at some point a principled "face-doctor" might have told the Jacksons, "No. That's quite enough, old boy."

But in Neverland money, and "monkey", speaks. And when have "plastic" surgeons -- ironically accurate moniker, no? -- ever tortured themselves over, say, Joan Rivers, Mickey Rourke or that Wildenstein cat-woman? Those hideous mugs were crafted by surgeons with witch-doctorates from ethically nebulous institutions operating in the Caribbean.

But the Jackson's, even by the gauzy standards of Hollywood, are acutely unnatural creatures. Tinseltown, which runs on the Pagan notion of feasting on the blood of the innocent, eats its child celebrities, gnawing on their virginity. The stage-parents are, of course, the enthusiastic feeders of The Beast, driven by their own failed ambitions. Childhood is a stage of life that, in accordance with the Laws of Nature, is nurtured by adult supervision. Hollywood reverses that natural relationship, revering the child, renouncing the authority of the parent. And so the oneiric whimsy of children -- for further reference see the young Drew Barrymore, Charlie Sheen and The Corey's -- becomes the dream-like narrative of the Town. So the parents and agents become the parasites of the nubile host bodies of the children. Never, by the way, trust anyone who chooses to raise their children in Hollywood.

Michael Jackson was once a delicately featured African-American. A waif. A "Man-child," if you will. And so, obviously, was LaToya. The heart don't lie, people:



And then what happened? The dream-like Jackson childhood turned into an All-American nightmare. As they grew, physically, into adults, they proceded, through medical technology, to prolong their childhood where they were Gods. Janet, who sort-of escaped the profit-possessed grasp of Joe Jackson (and the devious clutches of "Majestik Magnificent", appears to be the least damaged. But even now her insatiable desire to stay relevant and on top in a show-business that has clearly moved on deserves our pity.

If anything the Jacksons, the Danny Bonaduce's and the Dana Plato's of the world are a powerful caution against child stars. Wouldn't it be wonderful if there was a law against child actors and singers below, say, the age of 16?