Michael Jackson is dead. OK.

When I heared about the sad end of Jackson's life this morning, I noticed that I felt some relief. Maybe it's good this way? May he rest in peace. It was the same on the radio; the commentaries didn't really express much sadness or regret. Relief was dominant. Michael Jackson, pop music and the world were saved from a fiasco that was imminent. Fifty farewell concerts in London? Who conceptualized this crazy idea? No one believed it was going to be feasible, including probably Michael Jackson himself. The commentaries seemed to agree that this unbearable prospect is likely the main cause for his sudden death. He could have lived on as a legend, peacefully for many years to come, had he had the peace and character to do so. His era was long over; there just wasn't going to be one next great album worthy to his legacy, which I think justifies his title of King of Pop. A a self-proclaimed King, but does that matter? There was a vacancy, he applied, the public accepted. Of course, it is sad that a young man's life ends at fifty. However, I am thankful that Wacko Jacko died before the King of Pop did.

Watch "You Rock My World"