Whitney Houston Post Mortem
Here I go with one big politically incorrect and tactless rant. Read at your own peril.
Heart of the Matter
I'm NOT happy that the poor Whitney Houston died, nor was I happy with Michael Jackson's death, nor Amy Winehouse's, nor James Dean for that matter.
But I've gotten sick real fast of all the crap I've seen posted about the woman on the net in the span of one week. Same went for Michael Jackson or the young Amy, by the way.
Cutting 'em some slack?
Do we need to cut some slack to all these celebrities?
I don't think so. Or, at any rate, I don't think we need to collectively turn a blind eye on what they did to themselves. Yes, they did it to themselves. And you know what else? Nobody cared until the day they actually kicked the bucket.
I'm not above feeling sorry that Whitney Houston died, but let's call a spade a spade. We were all sort of waiting for this to happen one day or the next. Yes. We were. Now it finally happened, so let's please put this crap shot death in perspective.
Turning a blind eye
Society at large sheds tears about the death of these celebrities, when we tend to be ruthless and unforgiving when drug addiction, or alcoholism, are suffered by just about anyone else.
But it seems society doesn't hesitate to turn a blind eye on total addicts and the example they mean to our children, when they aren't ready to even acknowledge that regular folks, folks maybe in their families, may have become addicts for a lot deeper issues than all these drugged out celebrities.
Who knows why these famous users become abusers. They probably have their deep rooted reasons as well. Insecurity? Living in an environment where cocaine is as frequent as water? Peer pressure? Pressure to obtain results? Pressure to always appear on top of the world? Why?
Who knows and, frankly, who cares once they are dead? We should have cared a lot sooner, if it really meant anything to us.
These celebs only become trending topics, however, when there's nothing left to say, and then it seems we can't stop babbling. What monumental hypocrisy, to turn the Whitney Houstons of the world in some sort of angels in disguise when they die.
Shocking news? I don't think so...
My question at this dire time is, why is everyone acting so shocked that it finally happened? I, for one, am surprised that she lasted as long as she did. And no, I'm NOT happy that it finally happened, but then again, I can't swallow the idea that this is a shock to anyone.
But a shock it appears to be, I guess because there isn't anything more permanent than death, no way back from it. Death is a real turn on for empathy.
We say we're sorry and then tune out, or maybe we tune in to fancying who the next big name will kick the bucket for exactly the same reason. We don't care until it's way too late to care, if we ever thought of truly caring, which I don't believe for a minute.
Let's not claim innocence at least and, fundamentally, let's not pretend shock.
I'm sorry for this woman, not for her finale, but for her tenuous, half-lived life. I'm even sorrier, however, that a drugged, spaced out person for more than half her life may be at some point an example or a matter for arguments.
So many of the condolences floating around focus only on the "good" that I can't help feeling they are tainted with an aura of insincerity, nor can I help thinking we're all collectively perpetuating the myth that it's OK for celebs to "be that way". Such fine examples for our kids!
And that's the true reason why I get so mad about the deaths of Michael Jackson, or Whitney Houston, or Amy Winehouse. It's just not cool, nor right, nor decent, to look from the sidelines and sing their songs.
In short, let's not perpetuate the myth, and let's try to avoid that our kids have them as role models. May Whitney Houston rest in peace, and may she be an example of what not to become in life.
One Moment in Time ... indeed
To the Whitney Houstons and Michael Jacksons of the world: I commiserate with your disastrous life stories, and I pity that you went downhill so fast.
What I feel sorriest for, however, is that Whitney Houston or Michael Jackson or Amy Winehouse didn't teach anyone a lesson. They just served as fodder for blabber, like mine, and nothing else.
The one lesson I wish would be learned, once and for all, is that we all STOP taking a collective standpoint where all these drugged out celebs, these ostentatiously bad examples, become saints on wheels post mortem.
May they rest in peace, of course.