Written by MICHAEL JACKSON

Мили мои момичета!  И аз, като Бенисима нямам време, но идвам тайничко и ви чета! Благодаря за многото инфо, което сте събрали.  Скоро ще се завърна. Много ми липсвате.  Липсва ми голямата любов събрана в този сайт. Не минава ден да не си мисля за вас. Това е една прегръдка от Майкъл и от мен. Обичам ви много!

 Детройт - 1998г                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

MICHAEL JACKSON AND THE END OF ENTERTAINMENT ~ Mike Quinn on May 9, 2012
 
Posted by Mike Quinn on May 9, 2012

http://www.resistance2010.com/forum/topics/michael-jackson-and-t … AComment%3A317173

 

I was in Asia when the news of Michael Jackson’s death hit the news. Several days later, I was at an outdoor evening food market. Trying to make my way through a central passage way turned out to be totally frustrating and irritating. Hoards of people were just standing around staring silently in all directions. What the heck is going on? Why can’t I move?! I stood on my tippy toes to try and glimpse what all the fuss was about. It turned out to be small televisions with Michel Jackson videos. Masses of people were spontaneously gathering outdoors, banding together trying to feel, to understand, the meaning of what had happened. The unusual silence was pregnant with meaning: Michael Jackson’s death was the death of an Age.
 Sure, there are still singers and dancers now. But they are all imitators, all imitating, in one fashion or another, MJ. Michael was the literal and symbolic peak for Man. While Michael was humble enough to credit others who went before him, Michael took evolution to the human limit. He was the last original creator in his field, a genuine master. For all intense and purposes, all entertainment now is just like watching re-runs. Why even bother?
 In hindsight, we now see all the more clearly that the trial of Michael Jackson, before his eventual murder, was not really his trial personally, but the symbolic trial of Innocence, Itself. True creation, true genius, only comes from the Field of Innocence, our Source Field. But Innocence is the only virtue that is not tolerated in the world of the Ego/Eagle. Innocence is literally against the law. And after all the apparent money; after all the apparent celebrity status; after all the adoring fans; after all the usual Ego/Eagle conditioning, nothing could kill the gentleness, the Innocence within Michael. Perhaps more than any other human being that we know of, he was determined to remain unabashedly Child-like. And in this world, that’s a no-no.
 Interestingly, even the luciferian bible admits that the only condition for heaven is remaining child-like. It is so practically impossible in this world, the luciferians weren’t afraid to let this secret out. They figured, who can do it anyway? In fact, why not let people know, subtly, that they’ll never make it to heaven by telling them of this one condition.
 Well, let us take heart; we know one contemporary man who held on to his Essence, his Innocence. And his famous, last words to us as his Brothers and Sisters, to be recorded in history, were: “THIS IS IT!” He was screaming: LOOK ! WHAT I AM, YOU ARE. WHAT YOU ARE IS INNOCENCE! THIS IS IT, WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING AT - THE MAN WHO IS THE MIRROR

Привет, милички! 

Това гледахме ли го, че вече ми се губят моменти...?

http://www.btv.bg/shows/predi-obed/videos/video/910767062-Eksklu … ykal_Djeksan.html

Bruce Springsteen meets Michael

http://kingofpopmj.tripod.com/people.htm

PEOPLE EXTRA
November/December 1984

By Gary Smith





The word had spread. The people waited. Rock's reigning monarch and the Boss - Michael Jackson and Bruce Springsteen - were about to meet for the first time, and 25 members and guests of the Jackson entourage had wedged into the reception room of Jackson's suite in Philadelphia to gawk. It felt like history.

Springsteen, 35, entered first, wearing boots, faded jeans, a short-sleeved shirt rolled up to free his biceps, stubble on his chin and a red kerchief knotted around his neck, as if his body needed a tourniquet to cut off all that energy on nonworking days. Then came Jackson, 26, fresh from a postconcert shower. He wore a pink button-down shirt over a white T-shirt, dusty rose pants so long they accordioned at the bottom and blue slippers with his initials stitched in gold. He seemed like a friendly, rich little schoolboy curious to know something about the world of a working man.

A space cleared around them, and both remained standing.

"Hi," said Jackson, extending his hand. "I just read a story about you in PEOPLE magazine. It was very good."

"Oh, thanks," grinned Springsteen. "I really enjoyed seeing your show tonight."

"I hear you play long concerts. How long do you go?"

"Oh, about three hours."

"How do you do it? Do you take a break?"

"Yeah, about a half hour. It works out pretty good, I guess."

A camera clicked, eyes strained, ears tilted. Jackson's eyes flitted about the room, never pausing long enough to see. He seemed anxious to think of another question, the way he seemed anxious onstage at the end of a song to sing another song. Springsteen sucked on an ice cube.

"Did you write that song Fire [sung by the Pointer Sisters]?" Jackson asked.

"Yeah, that was a quick one. Only took me about 10 minutes. But I don't write when I'm on the road. Can you?"

"No," said Jackson, "There's too much going on."

His hands fidgeted for a home, folding in front of him, then connection behind him, then looping over the unused belt loops of his pants. A reggae song came on the television nearby, and he started a dance step, then stopped himself.

Couldn't he simply ask Springsteen back into his empty bedroom so they could talk like two normal human beings, maybe discover that they both loved watching reruns of The Honeymooners? Or was the anxiety of intimacy perhaps greater for him than the anxiety of holding center stage?

During the lull Michael seemed to be looking for a prop. "My secretary, Shari, wants you for Christmas," he said, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her between them.

"What's wrong with Thanksgiving?" laughed Springsteen, as the three posed for Jackson's personal photographer.

"Do you talk to people during your concerts?" Jackson asked. "I read that you do."

"Yeah, I tell stories. People like that, I've learned. They like to hear your voice do something besides singing. They go wild when you just…talk."

"Oh, I could never do that. It feels like people are learning something about you they shouldn't know."

"I kinda know what you mean - the songs are a protection. But I remember once I played for a Vietnam veterans' benefit and I had to go onstage to introduce this guy who was a president or something, and I didn't have my guitar. Man, I was shaking. I realized it was the first time in 15 years I'd been onstage without it, and I've never been so nervous in my life."

Jackson's voice grew softer, so no one could hear. "Do you like talking in front of all these people? It feels kind of strange."

"Yeah, it is strange, isn't it?"

Jackson took a deep breath, then took a small step toward the door. Springsteen's boots remained planted. He broke the pause. "How long did you rehearse for this tour?" he asked.

"Oh, one or two months."

"There's so many cues in that show."

"Yes, there is a lot of technology….We'll finish up in December. Then we're going to do a movie."

"Yeah, I heard about that - with Steven Spielberg?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I just spoke on the phone with him today," Jackson said. "It's not certain just what the movie will be yet, but it will be with him."

Pause. Jackson's hands rapped the rhythm of the reggae song on his thighs, his eyes hopping like sparrows.

"I read you go right to sleep after you perform. You can't really do that, can you?" Jackson asked.

"No, I feel good after a concert, because I feel like I've worked hard. I stay up till about 4. What do you do?"

"I watch TV or read," said Jackson. "I can't go to sleep."

"Don't you ever go out?" Springsteen asked.

"I can't. Too many people would bother me….How did you decide to let PEOPLE magazine do that story on you?"

"I just rolled the dice," said Springsteen, blowing on his fist and tossing imaginary dice.

"Oh," said Jackson, shaking his head. "I could never trust anyone enough to do that."

He took another fleeing scan of the room, his bank of questions emptied. "Well, I think I'm gonna slide on out now," he said quietly. "It was real nice meeting you." He thrust out his hand quickly and walked through the door to another part of the suite.

Springsteen lingered for a moment. A little earlier he had seen Jackson do things for more than an hour and a half onstage that appeared almost effortless. But this was something Springsteen seemed more familiar with, 15 minutes of a human being struggling.

"You know," he said, spitting an ice cube back into his cup, "He's just a real nice guy."

 

Изгледах репортажа от телевизията за Bad. Дано успеят да пооправят качеството на записа. Ех, като знаем че има заснети концерти......Трите споменати албума юбилейни дали ще има нещо "ново"  в тях.
Аман от простащина обаче, пак виждам някакво прозвище на сайта а "журналистите" в студиото най-добре да не ги подхващам.

Мноооого интересен диалог от двамата творци. Очевидно с различен подход към работата си.

Benisima и valya61  

  ооох, за друга тема е, ама не мога - сега ще си споделя - Майкъл и реге:

Michael Jackson - Don't let a woman (make a fool out of you) MJs One and ONLY Reggea Song!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=H3Lt4c-Hnsw

Харесвам реге, а тук е и Майкъл 

ето историята http://joenickp.blogspot.com/2009/06/when-michael-jackson-sang-with-joe-king.html

и от уики http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joe_Carrasco

Benny Hill and Michael Jackson

Целувки! 

        http://i49.tinypic.com/vct0mo.jpg     http://i48.tinypic.com/21jbofd.jpg

“(I’ll) Give you more than a hug”

Girl: “Michael can I get a hug?”
Michael: “Let her, let her”
Someone: “No, no”
Michael: “Let her, let her, let her, let her”
Girl: “Let her- let me in please!?”
Michael: “Let her, let her”
…
Michael: “Oooooh”
Girl: “I wanted to give you a hug, can I?”
Michael: “Of course”
Michael: -whispering- “(I’ll) Give you more than a hug” (girl didn’t hear)
Someone else: “Hee hee”
I don’t know who: “Sorry?!”
Girl gets a hug and freaking out:) (as anyone would do)
Oh My God! ‘Living with Michael Jackson’

репетиция Blood On the Dance Floor /предполагам/