Jackson Victim's Story

Truly it is a day steeped in Kierkegaardian irony (I know what you're thinking: with a beginning like that, where is The Corsair going with this?) that sources like The National Enquirer are regularly scooping the mainstream media on the celebrity gossip trial beat that ultimately fuels viewer interest in lowest common denominator fare-- especially in these dog days of Thanksgiving. Every damned cable talk show worth their salt is chatting about Michael Jackson, delivering hot air, contributing mightily to global warming; you just know Geraldo is going to cover the legal angle of this even if you never turn him on. (Incidentally, does watching Geraldo's show, much like E! Celebrity Uncensored make you just want to take a shower? No? That's just me again? Great.)

It is culturally significant that Bonnie Fuller -- a media persona well ahead of the curve -- has abandoned traditional status filled glossy publications to pursue the redemption of the low market tabloid.

But then again, we have been angling towards this candy colored culture of shadenfreude for some time now. Any society that allows a a romantic song with the chestnut lyrics "You remind me of my Jeep" to top the Billboard charts is sick, sick, sick and deserves what's coming to it. And then some.

Anyhoo: Who doesn't like a celebrity trial is what The Corsair says-- it's just that, well, with Phil Specter's murder allegations and Jackos kid sex allegations buzzing about the ethers, things are almost a bit too ... seedy ... to excavate the snark from out of; do you know what I mean?

The media landscape is cluttered with high grade humorless celebrity felonies (see today's Page Six cartoon), it reminds me of New York City under Mayor Ed Koch. Think: Streethawks, starring Sylvester Stallone and Billy Dee Williams. Seedy! It's almost too sad to comment upon.

Almost! Alexis de Tocqueville hinted that democratic levelling may lead us to this 'culture of ogling cosmetically-altered criminally minded freaks straight out of central casting for Fellini's Satyricon,' only he didn't use that particular phrasing. If anything, The Corsair loves to translate the classics into today's language. And if Howie Kurtz is talking to James Wolcott about Michael and Majestik, well, then, it cannot be completely taboo.

Perhaps "celebrity justice" is a natural byproduct of democracy in this sense: the public joy, or at least, the public fascination with the ridicule of the famous provides a release valve for resentments over the natural differences in wealth and excellence. As a very public act, almost a holy excorcism of resentment, the celebrity trial affirms that we are indeed all equal before the eyes of the law, and riches don't really make you happy, right? Suuure.

The National Enquirer now has the story (or, "the SHOCKING story," as they describe it after the tabloidian manner) of Jackson's alleged victim. Apparently, nude photos of the boy were taken. The Enquirer describes their particular brand of journalism in this way:

"The issue that goes on sale Friday discloses how the boy's 'hostage' mom escaped from Michael's Neverland ranch, chronicles Michael's non-stop Las Vegas partying with young boys in the days before his arrest ... and much, much more."

Not just much, says the noble Enquirer, but "much, much": Joy to the world.