Boggart Blog Exclusive: Jacko’s Death Faked, We Reveal Why.

It is inevitable that people would quickly start to claim Michael Jackson is not really dead. It happened with Buddy Holly, Elvis, Marilyn Monroe, Jim Morrison and Janis Joplin who all found it possible to be dead, dead famous and at the same time evade the all seeing eye of the media. But at Boggart Blog we like to go a step further and so we will reveal why Whacko Jacko and his handlers decided death was the only way left to salvage the singer’s stalled career.

For many of the superstars who have become more successful when dead, embarrassing revelations about their private lives that would have damaged them in life only enhanced their reputation in death. Did we care that Elvis liked to eat fried banana sandwiches while sitting on the lav? Did the knowledge that Marilyn did not change her knickers every day diminish her sex appeal. In death and in the fantasies of millions Elvis was always the slim, hip swivelling teenager and MM’s panties were always pristine. Jim Morrison; in reality fat dead guy in a bath: in public perception always the slender, beautiful rebel. See what we mean.

Most of the evidence we have to back up our allegation is circumstantial of course but just apply logical reasoning and you will understand why Jackson’s death had to be announced now. We are not saying the hospital where he was treated or the Los Angeles coroners office were complicit in the deception, there were people in Jackson’s entourage who were so skilled in administering medication they had managed to drug up the star enough to have him declared clinically sane on several occasions. The drug that put him into a deep coma and slowed his heart rate to one beat per minute was administered by a member of the entourage and the authorities had no way of knowing what had really happened.

Why was this done now, in the days leading up to what meeja talking heads predicted would be a triumphant comeback with a season of 50 gigs at London’s O2 arena? The clue is in the venue. O2, Oxygen – the Oxygen of publicity was what was needed to kick start record and DVD sales and make some money for the parasites and hangers on who had lived off Jacko for so long. To die would be sad but to die on the verge of a comeback would be tragedy worthy of Grand Opera.

And why would the singer agree to such a course. Consider the dichotomy of Michael Jackson. Certain aspects of his lifestyle forced him to become a virtual recluse, he spent weeks on end closeted in Neverland with only little boys, cartoon characters and Jesus Juice for company and yet this was a man lived for acclaim, craved adoration, fed on the adoring attentions of his fans. He even liked to cast himself as Jesus, an unfortunate habit which led to that infamous Jarvis Cocker moment. So how was it possible to earn a living, be adored and indulge in certainly lifestyle options that do not bear close scrutiny?

Be dead of course?

Yes Michael had for more to gain from being dead than either Elvis or Jim Morrison before him. Once dead he could be a publicity shunning control freak and a publicity seeking fame junkie simultaneously. And whatever he was getting up to in his secret hideaway, in the public perception he would ever be that cute squeaky voiced kid with a normal nose.

It was not in Michael’s make up to slip away quietly, to have an empty plane flown into a mountain, pay a fat tramp to sit in a bath eating speed, to have six burly henchmen and a crane lift him off a golden toilet. No, Jacko had to go out big. A million tickets sold for the O2 gigs, a million people wailing and gnashing their teeth at news of his death (most because they were worried about not getting their money back) would appeal to Jacko’s sense of occasion.

There was no way the concerts could ever go ahead of course. Apart from what abuse of prescription drugs had done to Michael’s heart there was the question of dancing. While the fans would be expecting to see the old dance moves that resembled a spazza on speed the weird one’s body had deteriorated to such an extent due to excessive surgery bits would drop off if he stood up too quickly.

We understand the original plan was for a lot of headline grabbing showboating, concerts cancelled, postponed, will he, won’t he rumours flying around, pre publicity shots of Michael looking frail but bravely insisting the shows would go on. Then the dramatic collapse twenty minutes into the first concert. Shock, horror. Tsunami of sympathy. Diana moment, spontaneous outpourings of grief, mega record and DVD sales, the posthumous autobiography dictated to a psychic, the Bubbles the Chimp reveals all expose syndicated to Murdoch owned publications around the world.

Unfortunately something happened that made it all go pear shaped. While many of Michael Jackson tickets languished unsold in the safes of agencies that had snapped them up and other were being given away as competition prizes news started to filter through that the Take That tour had shifted a million and a half tickets and the boys were playing to packed houses and rapturous reviews. And furthermore Take That’s clown faces were only painted on.

Michael Jackson could just not face the fact that he was not as popular as four has beens from Manchester. In a fit of pique he brought his death scene forward to try and steal attention from the boy band.

NOW CHECK the top comment. Kudos to Jack Frost who save me the trouble of linking the conspiracy theories.

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A Tenner Less Unlike the loss of a self proclaimed King Of Pop who sang like an over – exited Mickey Mouse voiceoverman and danced like a spazzer on speed, the loss of a great operatic tenor is something that should be mourned. Even when the loss is not to death but thickening of the vocal chords.

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