MICHAEL JACKSON FILM IS A ‘WHITEWASH’ AND ‘GHOULISH’, CRITICS SAY
I’m actually glad this came out the way it did, because it reveals something raw—something undeniable. That article shows the seething hatred that exists for Black people. Even in death, the anger is still there, still burning. It’s wicked. It’s demonic at its core. And I say that with intention, because maybe before, some people thought it wasn’t that deep. Maybe for you, the truth was already clear. But for me, there was still a small part that wondered if it was something else—misunderstanding, exaggeration, something less sinister.
But no—this makes it plain. It strips everything bare. Not that it was ever truly hidden, but now it’s exposed in a way that can’t be denied. This is naked. And I’m glad it’s visible, even though they never intended for it to be. It’s like their own hatred betrayed them—they couldn’t contain it. Because that spirit, that deceitful, serpent-like nature, always tries to hide behind a smile. Like Malcolm X said, the fox smile. But underneath, it’s a wolf—a rabid one—foaming at the mouth, wanting to consume us, to destroy us… or worse, to control us.
Because it’s not always about wiping us out completely. No—they still want something from us. Our bodies, our spirit, our gifts, the very essence God placed within us. They want to extract it, because they are empty. That’s why we’re still here. That’s why they didn’t completely erase us—because there’s something in us they can’t replicate, something they can’t create on their own.
And that’s where Michael Jackson comes in. He was the embodiment of the Black spirit. Not in a political sense like Malcolm X or Lumumba, not through revolution or policy—but spiritually. Through music, through movement, through something intangible that you feel but can’t fully explain. That energy, that presence—God put that in him. It wasn’t just talent; it was divine expression through a human vessel.
People can imitate his dance. They can study his voice. They can try to replicate the moves. But they can’t duplicate what was placed inside him. He carried something original, something sacred. He embodied not just African Americans, but the spirit of Africa itself.
And because of that, he also became a target.
When you rise like that—when you shine on that level—they come for you. Not just with criticism, but with the most extreme accusations. They tried to destroy him, to reduce him to something vile. Why? Because he wanted ownership. Because he wanted power in his own industry. Because he dared to control what was his. And for that, they made an example out of him.
That’s what they do. And Michael Jackson became more than a person—he became a metaphor.
But even in what they called his death, something else happened. Like a phoenix, his spirit rose again. You see it now—in the success of this new film, in the renewed love, in the vindication. It’s like the truth forced its way back into the light. The cover has been ripped off.
And now they’re upset—because they want the narrative to stay buried in accusations. But that story has already been told a thousand times. The documentaries, the headlines, the endless commentary—it’s all out there. This moment, this film, was never meant to be about that. It was meant to show his humanity, his greatness, his truth.
And that brings me to us.
Because this isn’t just about them—it’s about us too.
We have to be honest. We didn’t stand by him the way we should have. There was a time when we let him fade, when we stepped back, when we allowed the noise to drown out our loyalty. Some of us believed what was said. Some of us just walked away. And maybe we didn’t have all the tools back then—we didn’t have social media, we didn’t have the same access to truth—but still, the result was the same.
We left him alone.
And we keep doing that. Not just to him, but to our leaders, our icons, our voices. We celebrate them when they’re gone, but while they’re here, we don’t protect them. We don’t defend them. We don’t unify around them.
We let them stand alone.
And it’s not just about famous figures—it’s about us as a people. We don’t hold each other up the way we should. We don’t always defend our own. We allow division, even when we know what’s at stake.
So yes, this moment is a victory. It feels good to see him honored, to see truth rising. But it should also come with reflection. Even with a sense of regret. Because part of the reason this moment matters so much is because of what was lost along the way.
We have to learn from that.
We can’t keep waiting until it’s too late—until someone is gone—to show up. We can’t keep praising from a distance while our people struggle in isolation. Whether it’s in entertainment, leadership, or everyday life, we have to stand together in real time.
Because if we stood united—truly united—no one could pick us apart. No one could single us out and tear us down. There would be strength in our numbers, in our support, in our presence.
That’s the lesson.
Not just to celebrate, but to change. Not just to feel vindicated, but to be awakened. To stand up for each other now, while it still matters. To recognize who we are, what we carry, and what we’re capable of when we stop turning away from one another.
Because we are more than what they call us. We are more than labels, more than categories. There is something divine in us—something chosen, something powerful.
And it’s time we start living like we believe that.
Sincerely,
SCURV
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