It's one of those news blips you don't really believe at first... "Michael Jackson dead, yah right... probably a snarky dig about the state of his career." It isn't until the third, fourth, or fifth halfway credible source reports it that it sinks in. As of today, Michael Jackson is no longer a factor in the pop culture scene, no longer prepping himself for that comeback that never seemed to materialize, no longer being his weird self on tv, no longer putting together greatest hits albums, no longer doing the moonwalk. He's gone.

This probably won't mean so much to the generations who came along after his glory days (some would say up to and including the "Bad" album), the folks who knew him largely as a freakish has-been more (in)famous for his ghoulish appearance and strange, self-absorbed behavior than for his music.

For those of us old enough to remember a time before he became a sad parody of himself, though, his death might come as more of a sucker-punch... we grew up loving his music, we obsessively watched his videos, we (unironically) dressed up like the zombies in "Thriller" for Halloween and we pretended we knew how to do his cat-like dance moves. There's more than just nostalgia talking here... watch some of his old videos (the aforementioned "Thriller" is a good place to start, or maybe "Billie Jean") and you'll see why he was, at least for a while, known the world over as the King of Pop. The man knew how to entertain. He was good. Hell, he was great.

I can still vividly recall my eight year old self dashing to an open window and shouting "Hey, 'Thriller' is playin' on the radio!" down to the street below, prompting an excited stampede of my friends (and even my older sister's friends) up the stairs to gather around the radio and listen with rapt attention. I still remember watching the video for the first time (arguably my first "horror film" experience), awestruck at both the lavish (for their time) special effects and the elaborate dancing. I also remember the early beginnings of M.J.'s oddball personality quirks, which at first seemed charmingly eccentric but which gradually snowballed until all anybody could talk about was whether or not he really slept in a hyperbaric chamber or played dress-up with his pet chimp.

I remember the baffled disappointment as his music got less and less interesting, seemingly in tandem with his more and more outlandish behavior. His demeanor only got increasingly self-indulgent and paranoid as the years ticked by, and it didn't help that his physical appearance was getting more frightening with each passing plastic surgery. Probably the biggest problem for him, though, was that he simply failed to grow much as an artist after the heyday of the late 80s and early 90s. His songs just didn't captivate the way they once had. For me, he kind of fell off the radar. I'd be lying if I said I'd even thought much about the man for the last decade or so.

That said, it wasn't just a couple of weeks ago that some friends and I were watching a download of "Captain EO" (remember that?), and I found myself struck by its near-perfect melding of cheesiness, sincerity, and flat-out spectacle... in a weird sort of way, it seemed to sum M.J. up better than any awkward interview, gushing album review or tell-all biography ever could. His star may have burned itself out years ago, but I prefer to remember there was a time when it also burned bright.