The Tragedie of Michael Jackson, King of Pop

I thought it was young boys that got him off.

THE KING
I have been studying how I may compare
This prison where I live unto the world:
And for because the world is populous
And here is not a creature but myself,
I cannot do it; yet I'll hammer it out.
The better sort,
As thoughts of things divine, are intermix'd
With scruples and do set the word itself
Against the word:
As thus, 'Come, little ones,' and then again,
'It is as hard to come as for a camel
To thread the postern of a small needle's eye.'

[grabs crotch]

Thus play I in one person many people,
And none contented: sometimes am I king;
Then treasons make me wish myself a beggar,
And so I am: then crushing penury
Persuades me I was better when a king;
Then am I king'd again: and by and by
Think that I am unking'd by Sneddon,
And straight am nothing: but whate'er I be,
Nor I nor any man that but man is
With nothing shall be pleased, till he be eased
With being nothing. Music do I hear?

[Thriller motif sounds offstage; faint laughter of Vincent Price]

Ha, ha! keep time: how sour sweet music is,
When time is broke and no proportion kept!
So is it in the music of men's lives.
And here have I the daintiness of ear
To cheque time broke in a disorder'd string;
But for the concord of my state and time
Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.

[more offstage music; faint “the kid is not my son”]

Now sir, the sound that tells what hour it is
Are clamorous groans, which strike upon my heart,
Which is the bell: so sighs and tears and groans
Show minutes, times, and hours: but my time
Runs posting on in Sneddon's proud joy,
While I stand fooling here, his Jack o' the clock.
This music mads me; let it sound no more;
For though it have holp madmen to their wits,
In me it seems it will make wise men mad.
Yet blessing on his heart that gives it me!
For 'tis a sign of love; and love to Michael
Is a strange brooch in this all-hating world.

[Blackout; offstage whisper: “who's bad?”]

LADY LATOYA
[madly] You there, Foo, come heel to me. And Your Highness,
I request an audience to dsicuss
A mattter most urgent. Prithee, draw near.
[aside]What fortune, what chance! With these steps my plan
Nears fruition! The players set, curtain
Ready, my scheme -- but hold! Tis time!
[to both]Far be it for one of my station low
To pose this query so: if this drama be,
And more, be true, should not you, rustic clown,
Speak free from poesie and rather in prose
To designate proper your vulgar place?
Unless! Unless! Yes, there is more, and less!
I have stumbled on a masquerade,
The Fool, true King, whilst yon Jackson -- knave!

[The King's face begins to melt]

LADY LATOYA
Mine eyes! His nose detached and fall'n! Syphilitic?
Plastic alchemy 'come parasitic?

Though my enemies fade me
I am innocent of these foul crimes
and though this judge dost lord o'er me
still I shall dance atop this SUV.

IT IS TIME!

Enter THE KING, MISS JANET, SIR PAUL, SIR MICK, the consul for the defence URI GELLER and for the prosecution ALEX IN NYC.

THE KING: Actually, not since 1986.

THE KING: 'Tis just another part of me.

ALEX IN NYC:
let the wide arch of brooklyn
into the foaming hudson fall
before these many-cursed villains
once more attain their liberty.
It out-Herods Herod! ha! liberty! what is it
but a yet more spacious cage within which
reprobates and traitors ply their schemes?
but let us quiet!
- the trial begins!

(aside)
i'll daub it thus for now, outrage seeming heaped on outrage until the jurors beg heaven to contend against such villainy! then i'll 'minster the fatal blow; when bashir speaks, the noose will follow!

ALEX IN NYC:
From what Planet, sirrah, do you come?
Are you ignorant, or are you simply dumb--
The King of Pop, he stands afore your eyes
No Fool would miss such lame disguise.

Enter one of the KING's minions, leading a strange beast on a leash

KING: Ah, 'tis CaliBubbles! Speak, CaliBubbles, speak!

CALIBUBBLES: Ooo! Oooo! Oooo! Eeee! Eee! Eee!

Chorus of JACKSON WASSAILERS: "...Easy as one, two, three."

HARK! THE JURY SITS!

Have to agree. His appeal, while maddening, is relentless. Of all the collected wisdom on my personal site, this picture accounts for half of the hits every day, gratis, ususally, google image search. Okay, maybe wisdom is the wrong word...

an image

Enter TIMBERLAKE.

TIMBERLAKE aside:
As the path of the sunne in yon sky
Th'arc of Fame doth live, and doth die.
Renown once held must in some wise stop
I shall usurp his crown of Pop.

Once I was but a mere Boy amongst a band.
My moves were freshe, but my beats, they were bland.
Then a vexèd wardrobe shocked each rube
Now my Fame rests on one piercèd boob.

TIMBERLAKE:
as with you my liege
'tis but the native hue of resolution
sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought

THE KING:
damned insolence!
(aside)
yet this leads nowhere
i shall consult my soothsayer!
call geller!

enter GELLER

THE KING: is't true soothsayer
that in the movement of swallows
o'erarching the cerulean firmament
that shadowy arc which divides men from stars
thou can'st divine man's fortunes?

GELLER:
in nature's infinite book of secrecy
A little I can read

THE KING:
pray then, foresee my fate

GELLER:
thou shalt be innocent until the army of exeter
doth topple to the rude shock
of manchestrian onslaughts

THE KING:
'tis good

GELLER:
till iron spoons bend and watches wake from dusty death
your kingdom will endure

THE KING
excellent soothsayer!

i cry for thee, jackson
these tears shall cleanse

THE KING:
do not despair your majestie!
for my plans never cease to be
i now must cultivate an army
an army of leprechauns from thee!

THE KING OF IRELAND:
but what ambitions and what tomfoolery a plan this could be
how must you convince the Mother Of Nature
to provide you with many a storm
many a rain
many a drizzle
many an interrupting Sun
to allow many a rainbow
for which thy must find all these pots o gold, ye pop king, dare i ask?

THE KING:
begorrah!
i may exist on thee plain of a pauper in these dying aching days
but even a leper, less of that a leprechaun, hath always the gift of luck!
and being blessed with immaculate charm in earlier years, ye
you generous and love of conditional, your majestie of clovers
must not deny the law above all dirt on which we lay, we walk, and we shovel
it is magick, your majestie!
leprechauns will bring you this majick! Me majick!
The world majick!
Commission a park for this army of leprechaun magick at once!

THE KING OF IRELAND:
i am overwhelmed with your charm, pop king. you do never lie.
to my people, nor ever again on this slag of dung!

THE KING:
i shall never!

And so surprised as the musick hath been abridged
a lobbing of this coat of mine into a sea of admirers
Mine a tribute to my phalanx of this future of young
so overpowering it could not all be sung!

only jackson thread that matters