Some years ago, I started a work of art that I entitled, "The Chill Machine: An Expose on the Detriments of Chill." The title itself was inspired primarily by the phantom expose written by Axel Foley (of the original Beverly Hills Cop movie), on the then popular musical icon, Michael Jackson. I believe his was to be titled, "Michael Jackson ..." Gosh, I can't remember what it was supposed to be called now. I'll have to research it. I just remember the scene. It was so classic. Axel ,a Detroit cop, played by 80's Eddie Murphy, who was 100% funnier than the Millennium Eddie. Anyway, Axel walks into the Beverly Hilton and he's trying to get a room there and he goes on about how he's this writer for Rolling Stone magazine, writing an expose on "thee" Michael Jackson and says,
"I was going to call it (the article) 'Michael Jackson is Sitting on Top of the World,' but I might as well call it, 'Michael Jackson is Sitting on Top of the World as long as He is Not Sitting in the Beverly Hilton because There's No N***as Allowed in Here!'"
I don't know why that is so funny to me. I guess, I imagine a post Thriller red & black leather jacket clad Jacko sitting on the blue & green marbled earth with "Bubbles" in his lap, smiling with childlike glee. Its whimsical and utterly hilarious.
Anyway, back to "The Chill Machine ..." I began writing this work with the intention of like provoking our culture to change. We live in a time where celebrity has pervaded politics, religion, history, news ... the Internet! :) Its like this social cancer that's eating away at us. And we are kind of bulimic with it. We gorge ourselves on the flesh of our idols: pop tarts like Britney Spears (God bless her, really.) We want to know what she's doing. Where she shops. Who she's dating. What club she was at. What she ate for lunch. And then, we spit her up, spewing out malicious comments like "You suck!" "You're scum" "Rot in Hell" "Trailer Trash!' "You ate that! You wore that! You clubbed all night, where!"
It is so obscene the way we obsess over these people and then with almost no consideration for their "lives" we just throw them away. Toss them aside as meaningless and unimportant. I dreamt of Britney last night. And no, I'm not a fan of her music. But I dreamt of her last night and there was this media frenzy surrounding her. It was like her life had turned into the Jerry Springer show. And she was feeling bad about K-fed and she was doing anything to get his attention. She was drunk in the dream and I remember her asking me to dance for her. Like I was her show monkey. Her attitude was like 'you'll do it because I'm Britney'. But I refused. I said, "I won't be apart of this circus.' She kind of laughed it off in her drunken state. And then she asked me again, "Dance for me." And I said, "Britney, I'll dance for you if you let me pray for you." And then she was like, "No, don't pray for me." I got really close to her and I put my hand on her head. I just touched her and she fell back as if something struck her down. But it wasn't the force of my hand but the power of God. She laid on the floor smiling as if ... drunk. But it wasn't that. It was like she finally had peace. Strangely, her eyes popped out of her head as she laid there. And everyone looking at her was amazed that she was lying there with her eyes popped out. Then I came to her and said, "The Lord is giving you sight." And I pushed her eyes back in. I remember them feeling like boiled eggs without the shell and they were bigger than her eye sockets yet when I pressed them in they fit perfectly.
It was a peculiar dream. I 'm not entirely convinced that it was meaningful yet I'm not entirely convinced that it was just some random stuff I was thinking about before I went to sleep. But I felt like writing about it.