The media onslaught and speculation and everything else have brought me to this conclusion:
I feel immense pain and sympathy for the child Michael Jackson originally was. He had spirit and talent and potential, and what seemed to be a truly bright soul. I can't say what his father's abuse wrought, what the constant onslaught of media did (remember: her grew up before the paparazzi culture, and before deciding to want to be famous meant what it does today), or where his own decisions took him.
I do believe that every life has a chance to bring beauty and meaning and joy to the world, and for a time it seemed that his life might do more than many. And for that, for the lost chances and the questions and the pain surrounding his existence, I feel immense sadness.
I don't deny or disclaim anything I said before, but being reminded of the child he was, and knowing my own history, I can't help but feel some pity. I won't say what kind, as this isn't what my post is about, but the pity and sadness and the wish for something better are there.
And I do hope he is at peace.