The beginning of MJ and Orlan
March 12, 2010
posted and written by Caroline Picard
OK so here is the beginning of a story I’m working on about Michael Jackson and Orlan, in which (the premise is) Michael Jackson never died at all; the surface of the idea is that his death was a stunt for publicity. What I hope to explore, though, is the idea that celebrity has somehow gone beyond death, so that (for instance) whenever a celebrity allegedly dies, we the public would no longer believe that it’s real, somehow…anyway. I’ve also included a short video about Orlan for context.
Orlan said, I am plastic plastic plastic I prefer my right nipple best je l’ai prefere the titty show is looking like the titty show is stealing an historical face and inserting inserting inserting myself L’origine de la guerre Michael and look look look I look like the Madonna swings between defiguration and refigurations The body is a ready-made
Orlan, born in France May 30th 1947 her life is a secret her real name unknown she is a spy in her own life. She wept when MJ died.
Michael had a plastic chin and new skin . He made 750 million in his life from nothing. He went 500 million dollars bankrupt. He said in the press release after his death:
“It was so cool look look look look look it was so cool the kids danced so chill they had an alter in the street like look like it one girl so cute so fantsy one girl pulled her car up the day i died she pulled her car up to the side of the road in the city she pulled up and she got out and she wore a white mini skirt and white highheel shoes and a side ponytail and a sparkle head band and sparkle jelly shoes and bangles that caught the street light it was night she left her car on and she pulled the candle out of her car the votive candles and a photo she tore out a magazine a glossy magazine with its corners furled from the grease of her hand she had painted sparkle nails and pink eyes and brown brown brown brown eye brows she left the car running she had pink tights and doily ankles she had converse and dirty socks she had ripped jeans on she played my music over and over thriller and over billy jean and over look it was so looklooklooklooklook all the kids came out and the kids came out to dance in the street and drunk people who passed by they danced also and some of the hobos danced also (toothless) and everyone dancedancedanced they flung their arms they waved they danced like zombies for me look at me look what i did when i died lookit.”
When he went to sleep he wore mittens he wore mittens because he suffered from sleepwalking and the first time he sleep walked he won the bronze medal in the Olympics for vacuuming and stepped of the TV cabinate and stepped up to second place and stepped off to receive his medal into the vortex the nothing of falling. He crashed into the brand new Tevo.
He suffered from sleep walking the last time he had a dream he was in Iraq embedded with troops and he was afraid of the men but then he was afraid of a missile because a missile was coming and the men said the missile was after him so he ran away from the missile he ran very fast when he woke up he’d crashed through a hotel window he woke up running on a grassy knoll in front of his hotel room blood running down his arms they took him to the hospital and the doctor said you could have died and Michael said I sleep walk and looked at magazines with himself in them and the doctor said sleep with mittens on you have to sleep in a sleeping bag with a zipper too.
Along with describing the scene at the Holmby Hills mansion where Jackson was stricken, the document lists prescription drugs found in the home (some were prescribed in Jackson’s name as well as an alias used by the singer)
The document also provides the detailed results of the performer’s autopsy—which included analysis of Jackson’s corpse and his various organs—from the size of his liver to the “unremarkable” nature of his testes and scrotum. The “immediate cause” of Jackson’s death was listed by the medical examiner as “Acute propofol intoxication.”
my baby laptop
my baby blanket
my baby prince
my baby paris
my baby cup
my baby pencil
Michael said the paint may once have embellished a fair complexion butin time left a ghostly face lythol red he worried about oxidation and exofliated often. They used class V paints that fade after a few years.
Sat up late nights, texting in bed with Orlan, giggling like girls, whispering so the body guards wouldn’t come say turn off the light and get some sleep.
She said, I think I will get plastic surgery on my pussy.
He said, OMG, and tittered. He sat under the tent of his sheets in a sleeping bag. The phone was a flashlight. He had his thumbs outside the mittens.
She said, I want it to have the same typography as the hills of kilimanjaro, and then I want to put clay inside and then I want to give birth to the cast of my cunt.
That’s good, that’s really really good, he said. My cock hurts lately and doctor said to rub it with vallium.
Heeheehee. My sister had migrains and the doctor said to put a vallium sepository in her vagina. That’s where the migrains were. I think she was just hysterical. Her husband is an oaf. Her children are rotten.
Did it work?
She wasn’t cranky anymore, that’s for sure.
Michael’s phone buzzed again before he had time to reply.
I don’t think you should rub vallium on your cock.
The color of my skin is fading, he said. Doctor says it’s fugitive color. He says I should stay out of the sun.
Is that why you wear a mask in all those pictures?
I liked the red from Home Depot but it’s not archival.
My little Rothko, Orlan said.
Have you heard of Vajazzle? Jenifer Love Hewitt likes it.
What is it? asked Orlan.
Bedazzle your goodies. Pasting diamonds on vaginas.
What about Penazzle? Would you do it?
Yesyesyes I’m afraid tho doctors might see. Did you see Twilight? It’s like having vampire genitals. 🙂
I am Venus I am Europa I am Diane, I am Psyche I am the Mona Lisa a votre plaisir.
It was nice Michael had a friend. He met who through the man who made a ceramic sculpture of Michael with a Monkey in a gold suit like one the Beatles might have worn on Sgt. Pepper.
The decedent is a 50-year old black male who suffered respitory arrest while at home under the care of his primary physician on the day of his death, the decedent complained of dehydration and not being able to sleep several hours later. The decedent stopped breathing and could not be resusitated. Paramedics transported him to UCLA Medical Center, where he was pronounced dead. The decedent was taking several prescription medications including clonazepam, trazodone, diazapm, lorazepam and flomax. It is unknown if he was compliant with his medications. The decedent suffered from vertigo and had no history of heart problems.
The decedent’s home is a two-story mansion located in Bel-Air on a quiet residential street. The home is clean and well-groomed. I observed the bedroom on the second floor of the home, to the right of the staircase. Reportedly, this is the bedroom where the decedent had been resting and entered cardiac arrest. His usual bedroom was down the hall.
The bedroom to the right of the staircase contained a queen size bed, numerous tables and chairs, a dresser and a television. There was also a large attached walk-in-closet. The bedding was disheveled and appeared as thought someone had been lying ont he left side of the bed. There was a blue plastic pad lined with cotton onthe left side of the fitted sheet near the center of the bed. Near the left foot of the bed, there was a string of wooden beads and a tube of toothpaste. Miscellaneous items remained on the right side of the bed including a book, laptop computer and eyeglasses. Also near the foot of the bed, there was a closed bottle of urine atop a chair.
Next to the left side of the bed, there were two tables and a tan colored sofa chair. Reportedly, the decedent’s doctor sat here. A green oxygen tank was also on this side of htebed. The decedent’s prescription medication bottled were seen on the tables with various medical supplies including a box of catheters, disposable needles and alcohol pads. Several empty orange juice bottles, a a telephone and lamp were on the tables as well. An ambu-bag and latex gloves lay on the floor next to the bed.
I read my autopsy report. I didn’t like it. It made me sound sad.
Orlan did not reply and Michael could her the whoosh of the airconditioner.
It made me feel sad! he said again.
He thought about the talk show, he was going on a talk show the next day with Jay Leno. Leno said they were going to talk about returning to something when they both said they’d retired. Last time Michael talked to Leno Leno punched him on the arm in such a way Michael’s therapist said was “chummy.” Michael imagined the bright lights of the stage like surgery lights, he thought.
When I think about me and read about me I sound sad to me, he texted quickly.
But darling, you are, Orlan answered at last. We all are.