One thing led to another and I ended up watching Michael Jackson's "Thriller" with a class of fifteen year-olds yesterday. I used to watch it over and over when I was a kid. I remember trying to get friends and neighbours to watch it with me so they could bask in how scary it was. None of them seemed to appreciate it. Yet it is from the supposed best selling album of all time.
I don't think a story needs a character you can identify with to be good but I suspect the love Michael seems to have for horror movies radiates from the song and video in a way I found satisfyingly relatable. He was at a point in his plastic surgery journey where he was still really handsome and charming. Seeing him tease his girlfriend about jump scares comes off as really sweet, certainly for many girls watching. That's one of the great things about beauty, it can elevate the ordinary.
It's still fascinating to watch him move. People can imitate his dance moves but no-one can really move like him. It's so quick and natural. It's like Bruce Lee but without the arrogance. You can see his heart in his smile or his demoniac grin.
Twitter Sonnet #1486
To finish sooner plucks the tardy quill.
To written wings the flight was given shape.
To make a foot's to nab a shoe to fill.
To drop a tail's to turn from monk to ape.
To choose a dream's to nail a track to space.
To go to bed's to shade the meaning late.
To summon ghosts about the road's to race.
To burn the key's to seal the only gate.
To pour the tea, descend the steaming spine.
To drink the blood, descry the drifting barque.
To catch the wind you mend the course's line.
To start the race you find the starting mark.
To speak the word you need a plot of land.
To listen close you need a savage band.
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