When Michael Jackson died, I was surprised as hell. It didn’t occur to me he’d die. It didn’t occur to me, I realised, that he was still alive. I thought, ‘This has reminded me Michael Jackson was human.’

But when the old footage started rolling over & over, the footage of the all-singing-all-dancing Michael Jackson, I realised that I’d stopped thinking of him as a performer. The idea that he might want to perform, might write his own music, seemed as alien as everything about Jackson.

‘It took for Michael to die for the world to recognise his genius,’ came a comment from someplace.

But looking at Jackson now in the documentary ‘Living with Michael Jackson’ I don’t recognise him at all. What the hell happened to that energetic, talented little kid?

And how can you stay sane in an insane world?

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