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CNN on Tuesday was all Michael, all the time. All the journalists looked appropriately sombre, as if Michael Jackson were a great world leader cut down in office, or maybe the Pope. Anderson Cooper interviewed Larry King, who had once devoted massive air time to Mr. Jackson's molestation trial. “It was an amazing experience,” gushed the star-struck Mr. King. “I sat right behind the family.”

They replayed that clip of Mr. Jackson's daughter Paris (“the best father you could ever imagine”) about a hundred times. All the journalists exclaimed how moving she was. I was dying for one of them to say, “Those kids don't look black at all.” But no one did.

That's how it is with such events. No one dares to state the obvious, even when it's staring them in the face.

Rev. Al Sharpton, one of the greatest demagogues in America, made the ridiculous claim that Michael Jackson paved the way for Oprah, Tiger Woods, perhaps even Barack Obama himself. Anderson Cooper and Larry King nodded in agreement. A central theme of the memorial was that Michael Jackson was a breaker of racial barriers and a role model for black youth. Everyone politely overlooked the fact that he had made the most astonishing efforts to erase his blackness and turn himself white.

“He broke the colour barriers,” said the Rev. Al, to which Mr. Cooper replied, “That might explain some of the scars he achieved while climbing those mountains.”

A better explanation might be that he was a self-hating gay black man who was abused as a child and surrounded by enablers as an adult. But truth is usually the enemy of hagiography.

Mr. Jackson has benefited mightily from the Princess Di Effect, which declares that sainthood is best achieved by dying young. Both were hounded to death (or so the legend goes) by a cruel world with an insatiable appetite for scandal. We killed them. And are we ever sorry! “Maybe now, Michael, they will leave you alone,” intoned his brother Marlon, echoing Diana's brother, Charles.

The massive public grief (which, in Mr. Jackson's case, is more curiosity than sorrow), is really no surprise. The essence of fame is that it allows millions of people to become emotionally involved with people they've never met. Death also brought a bunch of famous new best friends. Now that he is safely dead and canonized, a host of celebrities have rushed to bask in his reflected glory. How many do you think would have turned up for his comeback tour?

The truth is that Mr. Jackson made a timely exit. In the United States, he was regarded as a freakish has-been. The comeback tour was shaping up as a disaster. This way, he went out on a high note. The memorial service was his final performance, and apart from the usual hyperbole (I'm not sure he was “the greatest entertainer that ever lived”), it wasn't bad. Diana's exit was extremely timely too. She was hanging around with tabloid-fodder Eurotrash. How much better to be remembered as a candle in the wind. Besides, early death gave both of them the thing they wanted most: unconditional love.

The Paris moment did seem genuinely sincere. For an instant, the little girl succeeded in portraying her (clearly non-biological) father as a normal human being, if “normal” includes dressing your kids in masks and dangling them from balconies. Then again, when you're a kid, maybe normal is anything you're used to.

“There wasn't nothing strange about your daddy,” the Rev. Al proclaimed, in yet another effort to portray Mr. Jackson as a regular guy who was misunderstood. “It was strange what your daddy had to deal with.”

Later on, after he'd finished commiserating with the Rev. Al, Mr. Cooper switched back to the scandal story. He informed us that Mr. Jackson was emaciated, scarred and bald when he died, and urged us to stay tuned for further details. He didn't miss a beat. Freak or hero? What's the difference, really? It's all show biz.