Home / The Duke Asks – “Is Michael Jackson The Greatest Anarchist Of Our Time?”

The Duke Asks – “Is Michael Jackson The Greatest Anarchist Of Our Time?”

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That the dawn can be as inspiring as it is painful, is something The Duke has had to grudgingly accept. Not being one for toddling off to the sleeping quarters at any reasonable hour, I’m often lying awake, staring at the DVD shelves, with morning light spilling through the window, thinking, simultaneously, I need to sleep, and also, what goods might my brain produce upon awakening?

I find myself in the unwelcome predicament of being desperately imploring a sleep of some nature to veil my caffeine riddled psyche, that I might arise afresh and continue the good work of The Duke and his grossly limited motherfucking vocabulary, yet also, so frenzied are these thoughts and musings regarding the next of mine keyboard ponderings, that the very act of contemplation keeps me saucer-eyed.

Sometimes good shit comes of this. Of the two (still unpublished) novels I’ve finished, both arrived in such unwelcome fashion, when an eye was about to shut, to remain locked and impenetrable for at least seven hours, when all of a sudden the ultimate opening sentence passes like a whisper through the skull, building and feeding until it becomes a deafening crescendo that only biro to paper can quell.

Indeed, the first nine paragraphs of my second novel, Chasing Polyhemnia, were concerned with nothing more taxing than how ill-mannered these unwelcome, yet undoubtedly amazing, ideas can be.

Robert Lewis Stephenson, following such a burst of inspiration (and also some cocaine), wrote The Strange Case Of Dr Jekyll And Mr Hyde in three days straight. Amazingly, he started from scratch a day into the proceedings. Stephenson gets cursed with insomnia and imagination, and he produces a work of immortal wonder. The Duke suffers the same, and the result of his sufferings?

“Shit, man, that Michael Jackson is one anarchistic motherfucker, is what.”

I’d kill for a Jekyll And Hyde, is the crushing truth of the matter.

But no, the good Lord in His infinite wisdom has decided that for The Duke, the task at hand will be nothing more than to muse upon just how much this multi-millionaire rock-star is the very embodiment of disestablishmentarianism. A Rebel Without A Clue, if you will. A motherfucker what just don’t give a damn.

Anarchism, with the exception of middle-class types what like to discuss such ideals at length yet pray that their apartments might be spared come the revolution, is a predominantly working class notion, albeit one which was given credence via the writings of a middle-class intellectual. Such are the ironies of the “political”, don’t you know?

By existing outside of the rules of a society, one would assume, those most victimised by said society might be free to exist in a manner which they have been told since childhood is very much within reach, and yet always seems a fingers-length too far to the right.

A pillar of that same society, barring a not-inconsiderable attack of the guilt, is unlikely to want to change things terribly much.

Except, of course, for Michael Jackson.

Jackson not only retreated ever-quietly from the confines of western society, he in fact constructed his own version of such, a utopia within which Michael Jackson was answerable only to Michael Jackson. Until such times as the rest of the world, and the standards adopted by such, imposed upon him, Jackson served as the sole benefactor of civilised endeavour.

Civilisation, for him, started and ended at the gates of Neverland.

If he had felt the need to write a credible, considered manifesto for such living, instead of ever-so-intellectually-stimulating stuff like “Heal the world, make it a better place”, he may well have sparked a revolution.

If only for one tiny inconvenience.

No-one but Michael Jackson could live like Michael Jackson. Bill Gates has more money, considerably more power, but he couldn’t exist like Jackson has done and, circumstances permitting, may continue to.

Gates is the spokesperson, rightly or otherwise, for a genuine revolution, albeit one of technology rather than economy (although one informs the other).

All Jackson had to do was go into a studio and lay down some highly idiosyncratic hollers every few years, then hand it over to the people he employed to worry about such nonsense. When he toured in support of said doodlings, it was as the ambassador of some exotic, heavenly dream-land. Here was Michael, prince of pop, but also sovereign ruler of his own slab of earth, a slab impenetrable to anyone deemed unfit by him, a classless, raceless (insert plastic surgery joke if so required) utopia.

He was Castro without the guerrillas. And like the leaders of so many countries cut off from the rules, standards and impositions of the rest of the world, his downfall arrived in the form of an inquisitive visitor.

When Michael let the world inside Neverland, the world tore him apart, slowly at first, then piece by piece until the grinning loon standing before the judges looked out from every tabloid on every street-corner.

However much of a dictator Michael may have been within his own hypothetical State, he obviously inspired affection rather than disdain. It took, however, only a handful of dissidents for his leadership, or lack thereof, to be brought into serious question.

Whether or not we, as outsiders, agreed with his practices, was immaterial. As far as The Duke would hazard a guess, it would seem that Michael had lived outside of the law for so long, that he had lost track of outside morality, and any standards concerning such.

Who would admit to the things he was admitting to? Who, but someone who had no concept of the established rules of society?

Michael Jackson, during that lengthy televised interview, had the look of a man who perhaps expects that some will find his behaviour bizarre (these folks are “ignorant”, don’t you know?), but who, really, couldn’t care less. I mean, what can you folks do, away over there in Earth? I don’t tell you how to run your country, so don’t you be telling me how to run mine. That Michael Jackson was American was nothing more than a technicality. He was a citizen of Neverland, and what he deemed just, and right, was the law.

His anarchy was a particularly selfish one, and one that benefited none but he, but it was an anarchy nonetheless, one took to extremes that even Johnny Rotten couldn’t have envisioned. Mentally, physically, in action and in thought, Michael Jackson was no more a citizen of the United States than I am. (The Duke resides in the Northern Ireland, if any baffled Google-tourists might be reading)

Whether he committed a crime, even by our standards, is in the hands of the courts.

What I will say, though, is that when he claimed he hadn’t abused children in a sexual manner, I believed him. He didn’t look like a fella who felt the need to lie about anything. So removed was he from anything outside of his own bubble (as in the round thing, not the monkey, which was, I believe, granted a plural), that I feel if he had indeed done anything so disgraceful, he would have said as much, and then talked about how “ignorant” it was for us to think it was wrong.

A man so convinced of his own sovereignty need not attempt to appease outsiders, is what The Duke would guess.

I hope my hunch is right. I kinda felt sorry for him. I hope he didn’t do nothing what would cause my opinion to be sullied.

And also, he may be an anarchist, perhaps maybe even the greatest of all ever, certainly one of the most extravagant, and probably even one who knows no more of anarchic ideology than he does of the biological make-up of geese, but he is also, indisputably, mentally ill.

And sick folks need to be treated.

Lets hope the sickness never went any further than his head.

Thanks folks.

The Duke resides at Mondo Irlando

Contact The Duke Via Electronical Email.

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About The Duke

  • Yeah, well Al gots a SPECIAL PLACE for his unique type of “anarchy” all picked out is what.

  • Eric Olsen

    Duke, a very brilliant piece.

    I sympathize with your insomnia – it appears to be the curse of a very fertile imagination. I would suggest cutting the caffeine down to a dull roar nd checking into mild sleep-inducers like Valerian and Melatonin. I take them both every night and sleep pretty well, and I am not unfamiliar with the demands of a cycling brain.

    Re MJ, you expressed your views and sympathies very well, and I agree with your conclusion that while he was probably a fucking loon 30 years ago, after years of isolated reign he is now a raving fucking loon. I have no idea if he committed the acts he is accused of but I wouldn’t be surprised either way.

    I also had affection for him for most of his life/career (they are only divided by about 10 years) but now I think his lunacy has become a danger to himself and others. I’m not sure what the anser is, but regardless of the outcome of his current dealings with the law, if he doesn’t somehow align himself with reality, it can only end in tears.

    Get some rest, buddy.

  • Al, thats some freaky malarky. Is that you in the blue top, incidentally?

    Eric, thank you good sir.
    I’m always contemplating methods of getting to bed earlier and so on, but to no avail. Too much trash to be watching and discussing and what not. All my attempts fail. Like the other night, i thought i’d put on an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm before i went to bed. quarter to five and i realise how damn late it is. Then i go to bed and put on the commentary from Pi to listen to that the brain might be preoccupied, but no, “this shot here…” what shot where? I must look, and thus, efforts are scuppered once again.
    Hehe. It would be terribly sad if it wasn’t so amusing.
    Thanks for the kind words regarding this dose of scribbling. I think i’d been wanting to write about this carry-on for some time, but needed the anchor, if you will, which arrived in the form of the anarchist musings. At half 6 in the damn morning. lol

  • Eric Olsen

    I was on a very late schedule for many years due to the DJing and all, and people who haven’t talked to me for a while are astounded to hear I get up at 6am 5 days a week now and have been for a few years. I just don’t have any choice. It still doesn’t feel right, though.

  • Eric, it most certainly don’t feel right. I keep saying, well, it’s just like if someone was on night shift. You get up at 2PM then stay up till 6. But still, normal folks seem awful content with the bed-at-reasonable-hour thing.
    It’s not as bad when its a choice, but when you WANT to sleep, but the head won’t let you, that sucks right there.

  • Eric Olsen

    because I don’t have any choice as to my schedule and have to get a reasonable amount of sleep, that’s why I use the Valerian, Melatonin, antihistamine, …