Farrah just couldn't Beat It

Like much of the world I woke up to sad news on Friday morning. Unfazed but curious about the reports of Michael Jackson's death I got up and switched on the news and after 15 minutes or so of rambling speculation about what really happened, the sad news hit in the form of a 45 second segment on the death of Farrah Fawcett.

Where I couldn't bring myself to feel anything much about Michael Jackson, the news about Farrah Fawcett really hit home. This was a woman I had grown up admiring for her beauty and style as well as the many hours of pleasure she gave me as a little girl watching Charlie's Angels re-runs. Diagnosed with cancer in 2006, she battled it and was given the all clear but a short four months later it was back and she'd slowly been going backwards and forwards in her battle against it.

Eventually the news came that it was really only a matter of time before she eventually succumbed but I had just read a couple of days earlier that she had gotten engaged to her long time partner Ryan O'Neal and was looking forward to getting married soon. For her to die before she had the chance to fulfill that dream seems all the more tragic.

I kept on watching for the next hour or so in the hope that more would be said about her death but to this minute I haven't seen a single other mention of it in the news.

Instead it's all about Michael Jackson and, while it must be a relief to Farrah Fawcett's close family that they are being left in relative peace, I fail to see why every hour of every day has to be filled with news of a man who in recent years was little more than the butt of many a joke.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not going to take away from the man's achievements. He was a great singer and performer and his music brought a lot of pleasure to many millions of people around the world. Credit where credit's due but in the same vein his later years have been filled with derision and mockery along with many an accusation on child molestation. He was found not guilty in a court of law but, as with O J Simpson, there are a large number of people (myself included) who are not convinced by the ruling.

By his own admission, Michael saw nothing wrong with sharing a bed with young boys and while that is not proof that he was guilty of paedophilia, the act itself is far beyond what's appropriate for a grown man.

Much can be said of how he led a tragic life or how he was forever trapped in the mind of a child but the fact remains, he was a grown man with enough brain power to have made it all the way to the title of 'King of Pop'.

If he could do that, it's a pretty safe bet that he could work out daggling his son off a balcony wasn't acceptable behaviour, or that too much plastic surgery was going to make him look like a caricature rather than a real person.

The list could go on but the fact that in later years he was more famously known as Whacko Jacko than the King of Pop is proof enough that I don't need to elaborate anymore.

He died and, in as much as any death is a sad thing, it's a shame but the hypocrisy of seeing so many people and news outlets, which used to mock him endlessly, now tout him as a great man just because he is no longer living is too sickening to stomach any longer.

And why, might I ask, are his albums flying off the shelves faster than they can be stocked? Surely anyone who was a genuine fan already had his music and anyone that didn't (myself included) wasn't a fan of his while he was alive so why would they suddenly be so because he's dead?