Humanities 101, Michael Jackson, and Not Conforming

The human experience is exemplified through art and conveyed through the culture. It is said that music is the universal language, that poetry follows no language rules except those set forth by the author, a picture is worth a thousand words, and that the movies aren’t telling everyone’s story. It seems art is an ideal or exaggerated version of the human experience, religion is that which we seek but are often unable to manifest, and culture is the actual representation.

I was to discuss a random act of kindness I had done. I was without an experience to share. I guess I’m not nearly as nice or thoughtful of a person as I liked to think I was. I have decided to act more by putting charitable notions into motion. One day I think I’ll get together with a friend and go around town committing acts of kindness. We’ll be like serial kindness killers.

In the aftermath of his death, I believe there is a great lesson to be learned from the life of Michael Jackson. Jackson was very strange to most of us. We did not understand him. Most people it seems didn’t take the time to try to understand him. We really don’t know what his shoes feel like, where they’ve walked, or what they may have ran from. Nothing can excuse the violation of another human being if in fact he is guilty of such. However, it seems Jackson was tried in the court of societal standards and was found guilty. I have always subscribed to the theory that Jackson suffers from a childhood repression. He seems obsessed with creating a childhood he didn’t have. I think he likes children as his peers. I would say Jackson is more asexual that anything. Nevertheless, the point is we tend to label someone as a freak because we don’t understand his or her differences and we then believe almost any and every atrocious thing one could imagine about that person. For some reason, it seems the stranger a person is the more believable it is that some sort of perversion or depravity lies within that person. That is a sad chapter in the tradition of humanity.

People are more the same than different. We all have problems, we sometimes have similar interests, share ways of thinking, and have similar feelings. We are sharing the human experience. All the exteriors that make us different, whether it be ones we’ve chosen to showcase our individualism or ones of circumstance; they are all a prismatic reflection of what magic the human spirit is capable of.

Difference is a very deceptive illusion. I am not as different as I am comforted by using as an excuse for not being understood. I can be guarded and introverted. Henceforth, I often come across as arrogant. I need to lose my veneer of over-confidence and realize that everyone has issues, fears, and insecurities. The human experience is not about being an isolated, introspective fortress that holds strong, hiding its inner workings and exuding intimidation. It is more like being a stream; flowing over the rocks, under the sky, and through the woods; sharing, relating, and understanding.

My empathy for outcasts like Jackson has been reinforced. I have decided to be a more randomly kind person. Most importantly, I have discovered new challenges that are in store for the mysterious work in progress that is me.