Thursday, July 2, 2009


What does it matter to ya when you got a job to do
You gotta do it well, you gotta give the other fellow Hell
Live and Let Die - Paul McCartney

“Farinelli” is a film based on the life of a castrated singer from the 1700’s. I saw this film right around the second round of child molestation accusations that Michael Jackson received back some years and it prompted me to write my first short story (have no clue where it is though).

I don’t own anything by MJ, I wouldn’t say I’m a fan (my older sister was when he was still kind of black), but I do have some fond memories that bear his influence and I guess I’m the type of person that really stretches to believe that someone isn’t guilty without a ton of proof. I know what it’s like to be lied about by thin lipped leeches that are nothing but the essence they drain of others, so I tend to look at every story from several angles before I sum up guilt or innocence.

My short story proposed a character similar to Jackson that gets castrated to keep his signature high voice. With modern technology, they saved some of his young jizz were he to feel the need to procreate. His older brothers donated as well for back up - just in case. One could easily picture the greedy, micromanaging Joe Jackson character sitting his son down and asking him if he truly never wanted to grow up, and then vaguely explaining how they could make that happen. Providing a scary whore (or Diana Ross after a few drinks) to him for his one and only sexual encounter before the castration, would most certainly attach the element of disgust to such acts and therefore ply him to go along with the plan of avoiding such messy encounters forever.

The boy never mentally grows as much as his bank accounts and can only almost overly relate to children. He never finds romantic love, just merely poses under the guise of it on the occasions when lawsuits arise or recording sales dwindle. He never felt good enough (some dad’s are great for building such dark and limiting foundations aren’t they?) so he changes his face and eventually his skin tone.

In my story, his fa├žade caved when charged with molestation and the truth had to come out in order to prove he was the actual victim of more greedies. Castration is illegal, so his dad and everyone involved goes to prison while my Jackson character ends up having a psychotic break from the public humiliation and never recovers. His father, from a jail cell, organizes a truthfully detailed documentary about his crimes and makes millions that he won’t ever see or spend.

It never happened, but had it done, it would explain that annoyingly, whiny, kiddy voice he had that his brothers do not (Janet does), and give further insight as to why he was such a whack job.

I was OK with black MJ, but as soon as he started to become white, he totally backstabbed Paul McCartney (GASP). Sir Paul gave a young MJ some pointers about buying rights to songs because he and the other Beatles lost out on rights that seedy businessmen had them naively sign away early in their career. When the rights to those Beatles’ songs came up for auction, Jackson sunk six floors below LOW and outbid McCartney. I find such treacherous acts beyond my scope of forgiveness, especially since he allowed some of their songs for use in commercials. The music of the Beatles is too (insert highest compliment available in every language) to be used in the background of a shoe commercial. (My music, however, is not above such things and I’d happily provide any sequence of notes to get a buck - just sayin’.)

As a dancer, I moonwalked as a kid (you KNOW you did too) and still like to get down to some of his tunes. As a musician, I can appreciate the genius of his time, but am disgusted by his business tactics. As an animal advocate, I am repulsed by how he jacked poor Bubbles the chimp and all of his other exotic pets.


The real Farinelli (stage name) lived 77 whole years, sex free.