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Story Notes:

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Rating: G
Genre: General, Family, Fantasy, Future
Fandom: Michael Jackson
Characters: (n/a)
Pairing: (n/a)
Warning: (n/a)
Chapters: 1
Total Word Count: 2164

A/N: The whole story is meant as a bit of social commentary, not so much just a children's fable. In my opinion, the point of it is actually made so clearly, it’s overkill; which is why the fic is so short. I also meant to show that what is considered "normal" changes with people’s values. Make of this what you will. Thanks for reading.

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VOX POPULI VOX DEI

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"Nec audiendi qui solent dicere, Vox populi, vox Dei, quum tumultuositas vulgi semper insaniae proxima sit."

And those people should not be listened to who keep saying the voice of the people is the voice of God, since the riotousness of the crowd is always very close to madness.

Saint Alcuin of York, c. 10735-10804 HE (735-804 AD)

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In the beginning, they used to say "God bless you."

In the world I live in now, they no longer believe such primitive stories. Now we say, "May MJ be with you". And other times we ask, "What would Michael do?"

And while these overused sayings still invoke the lost notion of souls and spirits, they are closer to the truth than the ancients ever were.

It is not reasonable to believe in a diety or creator of mankind. Nor is it reasonable to believe in perfection. But it is virtuous to strive for better. And it is noble to live for love. 

The story of Michael Jackson, King of Pop, who it is said lived in the years 1958 to 2009 AD, has inspired centuries thereafter as a guiding light for good. In this way, he has lived for all time.

Today it seems, no one is sure if he really did exist, but everyone knows of him and his good deeds and how he was persecuted and died for his people. He is a fairytale, passed down through generations, about morality and temptation, good versus bad. To use the language of his time, he is the savior of our "souls", because man only learned to love when he died. He has remained as the closest thing to god in a world that no longer has any religions or royalty.

In his own words, he cried for love, and for a legacy of peace. And so it was bestowed upon him.

King of POPulations. Champion of the Children. These are honorific titles given to him post mortem. 

A true patron of love, king for the people and defender of what is just; history has remembered Michael Jackson as not only the most influential thinker of the second millenia, but as a warning of man's destructive power in the absence of love.

There are many lessons to be learned from HIStory, the last of which is that one man really can change the world. Without the heavy restrictions of ancient times, today, there are many men who walk in his shoes, creating more and more perfect systems of transportation, education, communication, habitation, etc. And for that, we thank you, MJ.

Our LOT (Library of Time) is packed with data relating to this man. Time, however, has a way of distorting the truth, and our current view is impacted by what has come before us. Facts have certainly been twisted, and it is implicit that we now live with an idealized version of him. That is why Historical Analysts like myself are necessary. My team and I data-crunch on many historical topics, but none have touched my heart more than Michael, the King.

I have had the privilege of lecturing about this phenomenon for the better part of my life. My extensive research has been duplicated on millions of datapads. My findings are conclusive: this was a real man, not just a fable. Born in a primitive civilization of hoodlums and eager extortionists, his teachings eventually revolutionized our societal structure and disciplines.

He was not a scientist by profession to have such revolutionary and radical ideas for his time. In fact, he grew up an entertainer, and during his lifetime quickly became the most famous man on the planet. His musical works pervaded all life and cultures, as well as his stage performances, and his overwhelming fame only grew in popularity thereafter, becoming a foundation for all other entertainers. Early accounts show that his personal life, while having unheard-of documentation for his technologically primitive time, was actually plagued by so many untruths, few who lived in his time even knew fact from fable. Through the clutter and fog, it is ultimately clear that the King's ideals and personality should be a model of human behavior, and so it has become. It took centuries for his life to be revered as much as his work however.

A translated snippet of a twenty-first century manuscript written by his daughter, gives us insight into his life.

I think I understand why he was crying that one night many years ago on a dimly lit dancefloor.

It's because well-behaved, mannered, and moral people can't scream and shout and rebel. These angels are few and far between and they belong in a world where it isn't necessary to hurt others in order to live out one's own dreams. So in our world they feel utterly trapped and estranged.

"I'd rather be hurt a million times than to hurt back," he said.


He belonged in our world. But without his sacrifice, we would not be here. 

---

"Mommy?"

"Yes precious doo-doo, what is it?"

Paris patted the comforter of his bed as a sign for his mother to join him, and his mother did.

"The kids at Compulsory are talking about a Golden Age coming up. What's that all about?" The young boy made a cute face and tipped his head in question.

"It means it's been a millennia since Michael lived. It's a pretty special fifty years coming up, but it doesn't mean much else."

"You mean Michael Jackson, right?"

The elder chuckled. "Yup, the very one."

"They taught us a bit about him in Old Civs, but I don't get it. Is it a story or a real dude?"

"Well, we're not really sure. It's kind of like the guy lots of people believed in before that. God or Jesus or Mohammed or something. Michael Jackson is totally different though, because there's not really anything to believe in. They say he simply taught the world how to love."

"Oh, ok." The boy reflected for a few seconds, before continuing. "I don't get it. What's it have to do with our anthem?"

Paris's mother laughed. "I'll tell you tomorrow, ok? Just go to bed Applehead."

"No! Please, I want to know!"

Paris's mother sighed. These things never got explained to her very well either. Michael Jackson was just a thing that was there, everywhere. 

"It's hard to describe. He wrote the anthem you sing in Compulsory. And he wrote the one I sing. And pretty much all of them. And- oh! You were named after his daughter apparently."

"Really?"

"Yeah, a bunch of names are popular because of him. Paris, Katherine, Billie Jean, Prince, Jermaine, Tito, a bunch of others."

"Oh cool. I'm gonna tell Tito he was named after Michael Jackson! That's so cool!"

"Yeah, they named that city in the French region after his daughter too, I think."

"Awesome! So he named cities and wrote music?"

"Yup. And a bunch more stuff. He took care of a bunch of children, and said that violence and war is bad."

"What's war?"

"It's when people fight on a very large scale. Imagine if our whole region fought with another region."

"That's horrible. Can't they just talk it out?"

"Well, that's what they did before the King. It was dumb. That's why he was smart." Paris's mother gave him a kiss on the forehead and meant to stand up. "Sleep in Neverland, ok? I'll wake you up in the morning."

Paris caught her hand. "-Wait!"

His mother smiled. Paris's curiosity never ended. "Ok, one more question," she said as she sat back down.

"So he's dead, right?" Paris asked, his eyes wide.

"Unfortunately, yes. They say he died so that people like you and me who were alive back then could understand that greed is bad, and so they could learn to share, and not fight, and not tell lies."

"So we can heal the world."

"Exactly. They had this thing called Money back then, and people hurt each other to get it instead of sharing it. Once they got rid of it, technology took over and things got a lot more, uh, organized."

It was hard explaining difficult foreign concepts to a child, but she did her best with the knowledge she had. All this happened so long ago, it was nearly myth.

"So he was inmortal?"

"Immortal. Well, figuratively. That means not really, but if people will know your name in a thousand years, then you might as well be."

"Can't they just look me up on a datapad?"

"They didn't have datapads back when the King lived," she responded with a laugh and ruffled her son's curly black locks.

"Then how do we know all this stuff about him?"

"Because he was the most famous person on the planet, everyone knew him when he lived. So even without all the technology we have today, people collectively wrote down everything he did. Thousands of people followed him around at all times. They used to send their children to learn from him even."

"That's crazy. Is that how they got good at sharing? Cause they had to work together like a computer mainframe to keep track of him?"

"Yup." The elder paused to think if that really was true. She wasn't sure. 

The mainframe had been implemented for safety and organization a few centuries ago, so she knew the primitives didn't have anything like that. That's another reason the King still existed in their society today; he was one of the only personalities that could be studied so in depth before the time of the mainframe infrastructure, and definitely one of the earliest.

She wished there was as much information about crop diversity before the Great Extinction as there was about Michael Jackson, she mused.

"I have one more question," Paris chirped in between his mother's thoughts.

"Ok Applehead, but last one. And that's it."

"Was Michael Jackson the first one to walk on the moon?"

The elder was stumped again. She knew of the moonwalk, but she wasn't actually sure who first colonized the Moon. She sighed. 

"Sorry sweetheart, you'll have to ask your Researcher or History Analyst about that, I don't know."

He looked disappointed that she didn't know, and finally settled down to sleep. The mother tucked the comforter up around her son's shoulders, and as she walked away, bid him a good night in Neverland again.

"MJ be with you too," Paris murmured back as he fell asleep.

---

LOT Archives - "Michael Jackson" Top Search Results...

Michael Jackson; The Legend Of.
Michael Jackson: A new voice of the people. A reasonable expectation of the behavior of man in relation to his fellow man.
Michael Jackson: Father of Music.
Michael Jackson: King of POPulations, archaic- King of Pop, Rock, and Soul.
Michael Jackson: Champion of the Children. Honi soit qui mal y pense.
Michael Jackson: The Golden Age of Learning.
Michael Jackson: Enlightenment After Death.
Michael Jackson; The King, Defender of Love. Dieu et mon droit.
Michael Jackson: Fashion Icon.

[777,000,021,001,123 Other Publications] [Expand] [Modify Search]


The Legend of Michael Jackson

Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful King named Michael Jackson. 

He was a slender man, with a pointy nose, and jet black hair that flowed in ringlets. Michael was always singing, always dancing, abounding in happiness.

His Kingdom was called Neverland and it was just and tranquil; a place where children played and learned under the everlasting sunshine. When Michael wasn't home, he traveled the cold dark world performing miracles. 

Many people loved him for his good heart. The others however, grew jealous that he could float and dance on water while they all walked. It hurt the King badly to see the great divide. He tried to tell them that if only they all stood together, and loved each other, they could perform miracles also.

But the people didn't listen, and those who didn't believe in him turned their backs on him in betrayal. Worse still, were the ones who threw stones at Michael, as punishment for all the good deeds he did. They didn't understand why he insisted on being an outsider.

When the sadness became too much, Michael could no longer sing or dance or make any more miracles happen. The years of hurt the people had bestowed on him finally killed the King. But Michael died knowing in his heart that this time they would finally understand why he had lived.

And so all the people of the land mourned his passing. They remembered all the good he had done, and through the sadness they held each other for they had all lost a father, a brilliant source of light and goodness.

From far away lands they came to Neverland and held each other, and slowly their wounds healed. They had finally learned his lesson: Love is more powerful than war or greed or jealousy.

And with that love, they all lived happily ever after.

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