
That's it. After the media circus that was the Michael Jackson memorial, after hearing Al Sharpton try to tell Jackson's kids that "there was nothin' strange about yo daddy," and after countless replays of poor Paris breaking down, I have had enough of the King of Pop to last a while. But over the last week, something has been bugging me. I have gone on a musical pilgrimage, combing through his catalog and trying to figure out what happened after Thriller and Bad. Why wasn't he as successful, and why did my interest in [...]