“Pummeling.” It’s onomatopoeia. Can’t you just hear it; feel it? And pummeling is what it was. Now before you go looking for an insect with many legs, let me explain what onomatopoeic means: it is one of those words whose sound is associated with what is named: sizzle, and simmer, rumble, quench, shush, swoosh, ow, and pop, are a few more. A wordsmith would know them, a poet certainly, a lyricist, and of course Dr. Seuss.
The one that interests me is “pummeling.” It sounds like what it is. When I hear “pummeling,” I think of someone throwing sucker punches that just don’t stop. I see someone who is unsuspecting and unprepared taking punches in unexpected places that hide the wounds and ache for a long time afterward. A pummeling must necessarily, by its nature, take your breath away.
It implies viscous and malicious- also words that might qualify, and it conjures an unwarranted attack at an innocent and unsuspecting vulnerable human who is taken so by surprise as to be rendered motionless and knocked off balance, eventually staggering in disbelief.
Most pummeling is short lived because it’s a sneak attack and the perpetrator usually runs off to avoid either detection or detention. It is a stealth move with the impact and likeness of a belly flop from the high dive. Luckily a pummeling is rare; at least physical pummelings are rare. Thank goodness because the fierceness of that kind of attack would absolutely cause PTSD (post traumatic stress,) a distrust of people and perhaps even humanity because of being blindsided and so viscously attacked. It has the potential to make one withdraw and avoid public contact and in and extreme cases—a recluse. And if the attack was particularly devastating, prolonged, repetitive or somehow ritualized, the post trauma could cause deep and even permanent psychological wounding. Repeatedly getting beat up by the school bully can cause deep and lasting psychological wounding along with the physical ones.
Then there is the kind of pummeling that is even more stealthy and more psychologically wounding and ultimately more disabling. A psychological beating is just as devastating, wounding and can be more paralyzing than a physical one. When a psychological beating is ritualized, repetitive, or relentless, it damages at the soul level. The wounding of a soul is a serious matter. It is akin to murder. In fact, it may be worse because the corpse continues to walk around while the soul has already been shattered.
Wounded souls can consciously or unconsciously give up inside. They will continue the appearance of fighting and will go on under the worst of circumstances but they will have already succumbed internally. The light goes dim in the eyes of a person whose will to continue or cope has dried up, who suffers the accompanying adrenal exhaustion, who becomes dispirited from cyclic inhumane treatment. Drugs may be the only thing that provides any kind of relief for this kind of deep life pain. Drugs or a shaman. Those are about the only choices that provide relief for the deep psychological wounding that involves major soul loss. A shaman can usually retrieve the lost soul parts and restore the individual’s power; drugs just mask the gaping hole. Since most people do not know shamans nor believe in them, drugs that will mask pain may be the only available answer. They don’t cure, they mask; but they make life bearable. As a tolerance to drugs is built, the need for more increases. But the soul doesn’t heal that way unless some kind of soul-healing little miracle takes place.
This is a common scenario and that is why this kind of deliberate wounding is unforgiveable. Most deliberate and repetitive mind games involve soul loss—for those targeted of course, but also, less commonly recognized—for those doing the targeting. And also for anyone who observes the pummeling, the resulting damage and especially if one does nothing to stop it or to heal the practice by protesting or precluding it. Everyone in this scenario gets to walk around with PTSD; it is primary, secondary or tertiary. No matter. Everyone here goes numb to some degree from losing their humanity bit by bit. Or bite by bite; for one does not have to invite the sharks to find them in the water.
The reference to “pummeling” was associated with something our culture tolerates every day, sometimes even embraces, and causes the wounding and loss of the human soul both singularly and collectively: it was used in the context of newsprint and magazines and news outlets that are purveyors of tabloid attack. The phrase was “tabloid pummeling.”
Yes, I had the same electric shock shoot up my spine. That exact startle response. And I can match your despair bellicose blow by blow. Sinister sucker punch after sucker punch. You can even feel that word, can’t you? It’s exquisite onomatopoeia.
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I can feel every descriptive word—a pounding on the inside that accumulates until I have to look away. Which is what I am guilty of over years of verbal abuse thrown at Michael. I turned my head and did nothing. Worse, I did not even consider trying. With even more anguish, I know I cannot make amends to the person harmed. Guilt lives here too–useless, except it also motivates one to change. So I read what Barbara so beautifully expresses; take action in my own way as I push against continued injustice; keep my mirror handy because I need the reminder; remember the man whose short life and story so powerfully affects me; and make my amends with little steps every day until the time I can actually say “I’m sorry, Michael.” (I hope souls can communicate).
Pummeling is an accurate description of the life of Michael. Since early childhood Michael was the victim of beatings of all kinds throughout his life. It takes a strong soul to edure all that and still be a creative genius! That is a great merit. Sometimes I have put myself in his shoes and feel this pain, anguish, sadness, hopelessness, all those negative feelings that can easily take over a helpless heart wounded by the slander, the lies, bad intentions who want to see you humiliated and destroyed. Not only that, but while fighting the ghosts of a very painful past. It takes much more than intelligence to avoid escaping through the back door, to avoid being seduced by drugs, alcohol and any of those things. It takes angels by your side. Michael had Elizabeth.
I’ve been having daydreams for some time now that if I ever got to hug Michael I would have tried everything I could to somehow pass bits of my soul to him to heal him and fill the hole. Even though I find it hard to beleive in such things I can’t stop myself having these thoughts. I know little of theories regarding the soul but I do know that if it were possible I’d do anything, give anything I had to make him whole again.
[Rev B. says: “souls are individual; Michael can’t use your soul- he can only have his own. What will help is to close your eyes and imagine all of Michael’s soul pieces returned to him – carried by angels or on the wind or however it occurs for you. See those sparks of soul entering his chest and coming home to where they belong. See, feel, imagine and experience the healing of everyone involved- those who had the pieces and Michael who receives them back. You can also do this for yourself and your soul.”]
On June 27th of 2009 I wrote page after page about this very subject. It felt like I was screaming: “see… see what that does people! See what YOU acusers and attackers did to Michael?” I was so angry, so sad, so upset with everyone and anyone who may have been able to see the damage and chose not to. And I did not know who to send the written letter to so I kept it in my folder along with each tear I shed that is a permanent mark on the pages. I knew the subject matter well. I felt this pain. Every inch of it. I know what it felt like; the spirit gets weary in the begining, one day numbness begins, and though some say its depression, it is far past depression. The repair to this kind of damage is not easily fixed. Even the most skilled of healers knows this takes a lot of work. And some do not repair this damage at all. Michael was strong. He lasted long and fought well. Not many could go through even half of what he did and survive this as long as he did. I know I couldn’t. Michael trusted his healers. We know his healers were not to be trusted. Michael’s heart never stopped being where it belongs. Even now.
The “Pummeling” hell for Michael… started here: Was Michael Jackson Framed?
Once again I am overwhelmed with grief at the real damage done here. Yes, we can carry on in Michael’s name, heal the world, and most importantly WAKE UP from the hypnosis we have lived in for so long. I even believe that this wake-up was Michael’s greatest gift to us, for had he still been here this global awakening would not have launched with the rapidity and intensity it did. Still, my heart is completely broken for what was sacrificed to accomplish this.
Although I don’t quite get how “pummeling” is an onomatopoeia, this article is right on point. This article is true in the description of Michael and the beating he took for years and years. The trial in 2005 is what really did it. After that Michael never seemed the same. This man donated millions of dollars to charities, families, groups, organizations he visited hospitals all over the world. He stood for nothing but unity, peace and love… only to be accused of the worst crime imaginable (besides murder) against children… those he loved the most. Michael never seemed the same after being treated like an offender. You could see it in his eyes. It destroyed his soul and then some and what makes it even sadder is that there were a lot who enjoyed seeing him like this: beat down. Sad.
Thank you Barbara, for this web site. I know I AM NOT ALONE. I am sorry that i didn’t know Michael until after. He was a black man with the voice of an angel, a face beyond beautiful who could dance with the greatest, had an innate goodness that they could not accept or believe. I have been buying Michael: dvds,cds,magazines and I bought one book with beautiful pictures of Michael by Rolling Stone magazine. I was so happy. I sat down prepared to enjoy it. What happened was just the opposite. This beautiful book was laced throughout with viscious insults, obvious jealousy, hateful racism. It made me sick. I wanted to return it but then it became clear that this was aimed at Michaels fans as it was written after he passed. This was personal. I could not allow someother person to be blindsided the way I was so I shredded the book. I also can not believe what Michael had to endure at the hands of the LA “legal” system: has anyone else ever had (and this is hard to write) their genitals forcibly photograped? That was inhumane and I can’t believe something like that could happen today. How that would feel! How M. survived that… I try to show others the truth about Michael. Peace and Love