Moonwalker: The Difference Between Achievement and Artifice

This month marks the 40th anniversary of Apollo 11 and Neil Armstrong’s giant leap for mankind.

Mr. Armstrong is still alive, and, as far as I know, in good health. But alas, one day, like all of us, Armstrong will shuffle off this mortal coil. When he does, his passing will no doubt be news – it will lead on all of the broadcast and cable news programs, and decorate the front pages of the daily papers. He might even for a brief moment replace The Chosen One’s smiling visage on the covers of the etiolated news weeklies which grow thinner in size and substance with each passing week.

But will millions tune in to watch the funeral proceedings from across the globe? Will thousands descend into the streets in tears, inconsolable at the loss? Will there be a sports arena filled with famous and non famous mourners, gathered to celebrate his life? Will models and preachers and sports stars proclaim his heroism?

Doubtful, I should say.

The outpouring over Michael Jackson’s passing has made plain a seething and hideous fact: We have become a desperately sick people, incapable of distinguishing between achievement and artifice, between histrionics and heroics, between glitter and gold.

I look up at the moon sometimes and am thunderstruck: There are footprints up there. And an American flag. Mankind put its first tentative toe in the frigid cosmic waters 40 years ago – that is Neil Armstrong’s legacy.

Michael Jackson’s legacy? A handful of albums filled with entirely shallow, unoriginal music – and a dance move called the moonwalk.

As millions mourn for Jackson, I mourn for our enfeebled and rapidly fraying republic.