Zayn Ali

When a star has exhausted its hydrogen supply, it can no longer generate sufficient pressure at its centre to
balance the crushing force of gravity. The star then collapses under the force of its own weight. The smallest
stars collapse gently, tranquil and undisturbed. For the largest of stars on the other hand, a different fate lies
ahead. Their deaths are comprised of a violent and cataclysmic explosion as a result of the unstable imbalance
of heat-radiation pressure and gravity. Their inner matter is hurled from their cores into the depths of the void that
surrounds them. The paroxysm of strain that takes their lives is a fascinating phenomenon; a turbulent tempest of
miraculous colours.

When we look at the sun we see a marvellous entity. It essentially sustains all life on Earth. Its size and power
are supreme. Our tiny existence in the universe constitutes that we cannot fully comprehend the magnificence of
the sun and its superior might. Yet it is not the biggest star to grace the macrocosmic nullity.

Although it’s impossible to know what the largest star is in the infinite celestial space, there are a multitude of
stars that merely dwarf our sun in every aspect. VY Canis Majoris, a red hypergiant, is the biggest star known to
man at this moment in time. Calculated at approximately 2100 times the size of the sun, it is clearly an
exceptional terrestrial body.

Just like the stars, people who have reshaped history are placed into the upper echelons of social significance.
And the bigger the impact they make, the bigger the star they become.

Michael Jackson was undoubtedly the biggest star to occupy our planet. And just like the stars, in death his
essence fortified like a supernova, and his name will forever be tied to the proclamation: The Greatest Performer
Ever. Nevertheless, unlike the stars, his presence will not diminish to nothing more than a tear in the fabric of
society, the way that gargantuan stars compress to form black holes.

Michael Jackson was larger-than-life.

From humble beginnings in Gary, Indiana, he soared into an unparalleled fame that led him to travel the world,
blessing each nation with his beatific nature.
His immense vocal abilities, dancing prowess and philanthropic endeavours were unmatched.
He broke almost every musical world record in history, elevating his name from the plaque of legends to a plaque
of his own. He popularised dance-moves such as the Moonwalk and the Robot, becoming the pinnacle of
people’s admirations and aspirations. He supported over 40 different charities, trying to save us and our world
from eternal damnation, and restore it to the utopia it has the potential to be.

Yet throughout his life he was plagued by clinical, cold-hearted castigation.

The media wasn’t satisfied with just reporting that his Thriller album was and still is the best-selling album of all
time. They weren’t content with praising him for being the first black person ever to attain regular air-time on
MTV. They weren’t gratified by mentioning and honouring his flourishing success.

Instead, they were intent on ripping Michael apart. They savagely spread stories of him sleeping in hyperbaric
oxygen chambers. They spoke about him trying to buy the skeletal remains of the ‘Elephant Man.’ They exploited
a skin disease to sensationalise reports that he was disowning his race.

But this wasn’t all he had to deal with.

The false allegations of child molestation took the extent of his endured pain to an entirely new altitude. Both
charges were unequivocally fictitious. Not only can both accusers be proved to have been lying, the man
prosecuting Michael had a personal vendetta against him, and spent twelve years setting out to ‘lynch’ him. He
even falsified evidence in the trial. Michael’s sincere purity meant that he was unable to comprehend how or why
anyone could be evil enough to make up such stories. They crushed his innocent and youthful spirit; that which
many believed supported the accusations. Even though he was acquitted of all charges, people thought he was
guilty nevertheless. They saw him as a freak, heartlessly brandishing the name ‘Wacko Jacko.’ But these people
were ignorant, and would believe anything they read in the newspapers. These truculent people hated a man
they knew nothing about.

They didn’t know Michael Jackson.

 Zayn Ali

Anyone who knew even the slightest bit about this divine being would know that he would never do anything to
hurt anyone, especially children. He held them in the highest of all regards, and did everything possible to help
improve the conditions for millions of less-fortunate people across the globe.
All Michael wanted to do was help. He didn’t want the publicity. He didn’t want the fame. All he wanted was to
know that he was helping others, and healing the world.
Michael didn’t know how to hate, even though he was stared directly in the face by it for the majority of his life.
And he still continued to love, and keep on loving. He never stopped.

Not only was Michael Jackson an icon to billions over the world, he was also a considerate son, a kind brother
and a loving father.
On Thursday 25th June 2009, the whole world was united. The greatest legend to walk the planet had passed on.
People around the globe stood together to mourn the life and legacy of the King of Pop. The world lost its
grandest asset. But Joseph and Katherine Jackson lost their beloved son. Rebbie, Jackie, Tito, Jermaine, La
Toya, Marlon, Randy and Janet Jackson lost their gentle brother. Prince Michael I, Paris-Michael Katherine and
Prince Michael II Jackson lost their devoted father. As painful as this event was for us fans around the world, we
must remember that the grief that Michael’s family are feeling surpasses the pain and hardship that we feel.
Having lost someone extremely close to me when I was young, I know that it never stops hurting, no matter how
long ago the person vacated.
Michael Jackson completely remodelled the arts of music and dancing.
People called him the King of Pop.
He was more. He was without a doubt the King of Kings.
Michael Jackson blessed this world with supreme talent. He fed the poor and cured the sick.
And how was he thanked in return?
He was mocked continually by the media for his eccentricity; the result of an absent childhood. He was abused
by the ignorant; the result of ubiquitous absent-minded obdurateness. He was detested for the inaccurate
portrayal of him pertaining to paedophilic tendencies; the result of an unjust grudge and merciless greed.

I love Michael Jackson. I have always idolised him, and sympathised with him too.
But as much as I love him, and as grateful as I am that he dedicated his life to his loyal fans, I can’t help but feel
that we didn’t deserve a person like him. We had him. We had a treasure. And we took advantage. Not all of us
mistreated him, but those who did were simply callous and remorseless. They seemed to be blinded by the
superlative success of the superstar they persistently ridiculed, and forgot that he still had feelings and got hurt
just like any other person.

We didn’t deserve Michael Jackson.

He was the Elite.

He was the Divine.
He was the King.