View Poll Results: What type is Michael Jackson?
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ILE (ENTp)
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SEI (ISFp)
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ESE (ESFj)
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LII (INTj)
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SLE (ESTp)
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IEI (INFp)
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EIE (ENFj)
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LSI (ISTj)
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SEE (ESFp)
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ILI (INTp)
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LIE (ENTj)
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ESI (ISFj)
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IEE (ENFp)
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SLI (ISTp)
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LSE (ESTj)
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EII (INFj)
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Please read this article if you are interested in Michael Jackson's type... Very insightful...
Michael Jackson's life-long confidante J. Randy Taraborrelli: 'I saw in his eyes he was dying' | Mail Online
In particular re: Beta NF ... This is how a beta NF lectures ppl about Fe ethics:
In May 1994, I was the first to report that Michael had married Lisa Marie Presley. It seemed a far-fetched union, he from Neverland, she from Graceland. Not a lot of people took it seriously.
Even I was guilty of being sarcastic about it. ‘They’ve registered their wedding list at Toys R Us,’ I quipped — a joke about Michael’s penchant for childhood things.
I thought it was pretty funny. Michael was not amused. He called me immediately after the broadcast. ‘How dare you make fun of my marriage?’ he said, angrily.
He didn’t really sound at all like the whispery character of his public persona.
In real life, his voice was stronger, more bold. ‘Maybe you have never been in love,’ he lectured me. ‘Because if you had, you wouldn’t ridicule another person’s relationship.’
I apologised and told him that it was just a joke.
‘But it was cruel, and I’ve never known you to be cruel,’ he said. Of course, I felt terrible. He knew it, too.
‘OK, don’t feel so bad,’ he said, now much softer. ‘We all make mistakes.’
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re: Victim:
Meanwhile, Lisa was realising that her mission to save Michael was not going to be easy. She was amazed by his emotional repression and felt he was resisting her efforts to help. Perhaps, she pondered, he rather enjoyed wallowing in his own pain, playing the victim.
He was 'like a young boy, angry at the world', one of her friends noted, and his self-pity became a strain on the relationship.
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re: Se seeking / via Fe manipulating
But for all his apparent paranoia about protecting his privacy, Jackson was as much of a show-off as he was a recluse.
As for the whole Wacko Jacko image, that was less an invention of the media than of his own - until it spiralled beyond a joke and beyond his control.
To begin with, though, it was carefully nurtured to boost his career. He understood that to sell records he needed to stay in the public eye.
He was an instinctive showman when it came to self-promotion. When filming a commercial for Pepsi-Cola surrounded by smoke and pyrotechnics, a magnesium flash bomb exploded close to his head.
Aides covered his blazing hair with a blanket and ice, and prepared to hustle him out of the back door to an ambulance. But for once Jackson insisted on using the front door, in full view of fans and photographers. He sensed an opportunity.
That night, footage was shown across the world of the stricken star, bandaged and in agony, being rushed to hospital - but managing to raise a sequin-gloved hand in a weak salute. In publicity terms, its value was beyond measure.
For a while, this strategy of selfpromotion was brilliantly successful as Jackson convinced himself that he could manipulate his image and control how he was portrayed.
Throughout the Eighties, he dreamt up bizarre stunts and stories that were leaked to the Press.
One favourite ploy was to use outlandish disguises on conspicuously extravagant shopping trips. Once, he popped into a Los Angeles chemist's in an Afro wig and dark glasses, and asked to buy a sex toy. It was hardly a surprise when the story made all the newspapers.
He also told the world that he slept in an oxygen chamber that would enable him to live to be 150. It was a complete fiction, but word of Michael's latest wacky exploit spread round the globe, helping to sell more records on the way.
But the danger of this drive for self-promotion was that it became open season for any invented story. Reports appeared that he had seen John Lennon's ghost and was speaking chimp language to his pet ape Bubbles.
Since he refused to give any interviews in an effort to maintain his inscrutability, the stories spread without contradiction or explanation.
Jackson's carefully nurtured image spun out of his control. He became a victim of the weird mythology he had set out to create.
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And God-bless-betas, LOL:
'The only time he had any fun was when people came over to play in his million- dollar amusement arcade. But they had to let Michael win most of the time. If they didn't, they weren't asked again.'
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all of the above by J. Randy Taborelli, Jackson's friend for 40 yrs
Last edited by JuJu; 07-01-2009 at 05:55 PM.
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