In a cafe not far from Princeton University, at a corner table, seven young people gathered.
They were both male and female, both white and black, but there were no brown-skinned or yellow-skinned individuals.
Each of the seven sat there, typing on their laptops.
One of the blonde youths had a fierce look in his eyes: "These sons of bitches, they don't know what they're defending—a pedophile, a nigger trying to become white through bleaching."
"Do you think singing a few songs can bleach your skin? Never, a nigger is a nigger!"
As he spoke, he looked at his two black companions beside him: "Sorry, Charles, sorry, Elgar, I'm not talking about you guys, I'm talking about Michael Jackson, that nigger."
The black youth, Charles, nodded in agreement: "No need to explain, William, we know what you mean. Michael Jackson is a disgrace to black people."
"Not only is he a pedophile, he even tried to turn himself white through skin grafting. With such absurd methods, he might as well go back to Africa and believe in voodoo. What a stupid guy. I heard he never went to school, no wonder he's as dumb as a pig!"
The other black youth, Elgar, pondered: "Shouldn't we use a different term for him? His skin color is neither white nor black now, it's like he's stuck uncomfortably in the middle. I think we should call Michael Jackson 'Nika,' how about that word?"
"Nika, Nika, hahaha, you're a genius, Elgar, this new term is great!" Charles clapped and laughed.
A female college student suddenly said: "That nigger's fans are fighting back again. Quick, insult them back! This old guy even wants to compare himself to Eminem. Who would listen to his rotten songs!"
"Exactly, Eminem is our white genius. He defeated those niggers in rap, telling them that white people can also rap well." Another female college student agreed.
As she spoke, she also looked at her black companions: "Sorry, Charles, sorry, Elgar, I'm not talking about you guys."
The two black youths shrugged indifferently: "It's nothing, Shirley, we know what you mean. Eminem's rap is the best in the world!"
Apparently, these two black people were completely in a state of fanatical conversion, and there have always been many such people.
For example, the plump lady from the Oprah talk show; when she was popular, this state wasn't very obvious, but as the hype died down, her views became increasingly skewed.
A few more years, and not only will her views be skewed, but her face will move to her rear, turning into a candle.
A few minutes later, Elgar grinned: "Look, that Nika posted an update, asking his supporters to remain rational and not argue with us."
"I think he's scared, afraid to argue any further, otherwise it will only attract more people and make him more embarrassed."
A few minutes later, Charles also said gleefully: "What a bunch of obedient dogs, those guys actually stopped talking back. They're really letting us insult them. Such big fools actually exist in the world!"
William snorted coldly: "Nothing strange about it, niggers are inherently low in intelligence. How smart can a brain be that comes up with skin grafting and bleaching?"
"Keep insulting them. The more they don't fight back, the more it proves we're right. Jackson, that pedophile, has a guilty conscience."
However, before he finished speaking, a companion frowned and said: "Wait, William, I received an official message from Facebook, reminding us about healthy social interactions. If dangerous or insulting remarks, such as those spreading racism or terrorism, are detected, there will be sanctions."
"I received it too."
"Me too."
"Me too."
"This must be an official mass message."
"Then shouldn't we stop insulting them?"
Everyone's gaze fell on William, who hesitated. The official announcement was unclear, and he wasn't sure what it meant.
At this moment, the two black college students patted their chests, feeling that the burning desire to perform was about to break through the sky.
At such a time, one must bravely charge forward; only by desperately belittling one's excellent compatriots can one gain the recognition and rewards of the masters.
"William, you guys observe first. Charles and I will continue to insult them and see if there will be any sanctions."
William nodded: "Then increase the intensity, make the insults even nastier."
Meanwhile, in the Silicon Valley building.
Eric continued to monitor MJ's homepage.
He was surprised to find that this war of words involved at least several thousand people, and among them, quite a few black people were also insulting, and their insults were even nastier than the average person's.
This kind of traitorous behavior was more hateful than that of white people.
Especially the focus of their insults—the skin color issue. Others might not know, but Eric knew it had nothing to do with bleaching or skin grafting.
Michael's skin turned from black to white because he suffered from severe vitiligo and lupus erythematosus, which caused the melanin in his body to gradually disappear.
Anyone with a bit of common sense should understand what it meant to undergo full-body skin grafting in the 1980s. You might not even get off the operating table; you'd die right there.
Bleaching was even more impossible; such an act would directly poison the skin and body.
And MJ later went on world tours, dancing wildly for several hours at a time. Few people in the world could achieve that level of exaggerated stamina. Could a body poisoned in such a way endure it?
Most importantly, Eric clearly remembered that after MJ's death, the FBI specifically conducted an autopsy to investigate the cause of death.
The final autopsy report showed that his skin problems were indeed due to severe vitiligo, and skin grafting and bleaching were purely malicious media hype.
Staring coldly at these clowns, Eric said, "Too few, Fitz, release the bait."
"Yes, boss!"
At the coffee shop, after the black college students Charles and Elgar had hurled a few insults, they looked at their companions.
"It seems like nothing happened, no sanctions."
However, William and the other white people had no intention of joining in, instead gesturing for the two of them to continue.
At this moment, many MJ supporters suddenly appeared, quickly typing replies and fiercely counter-attacking.
The few anti-fans quickly found themselves unable to cope, their firepower suppressed.
William finally couldn't stand it and waved his hand: "Everyone, continue. It looks like it's just an official reminder, no need to take it seriously."
In just a few minutes, MJ's homepage returned to the chaotic state it was in before.
Clatter, clatter
Clatter, clatter
The sound of keyboards clacking rose and fell, making it seem as if they were diligently studying.
Suddenly, the female college student Shirley looked at the computer screen in surprise: "I've been forcibly logged out."
"No, my account also jumped out."
"Mine too."
"Wait, I'm also disconnected."
Suddenly, they seemed to realize something was wrong, and the thought of official sanctions simultaneously popped into their minds.
"Log in again!"
At William's command, the group re-entered the Facebook login page, but as soon as they entered their account and password, a pop-up window immediately appeared on the screen.
"It has been detected that you have posted or spread dangerous remarks containing elements such as racial discrimination, murder, and terrorism. After careful consideration, we have decided to permanently ban your account."
"Are you kidding me? Permanently banned! I just added Thea yesterday, and she's my goddess. Maybe I'll have a chance this time." A male student said with a constipated expression.
"Me too, I just added a girl from New Jersey College last night. We chatted all night, and she even sent me sexy photos. In just a few more days, I would have sealed the deal." Another male student had a similar expression, as if he had swallowed a fly.
"FUCK! I added several men yesterday, and we had a great chat. One of them was even planning to buy me a bag, but I haven't exchanged phone numbers yet. What do I do?"
"What are your losses? I've already added over two hundred people, all carefully selected wealthy and successful individuals. I was planning a big score."
Listening to his accomplices chattering, William angrily said: "What's the rush? Isn't there an unban application function? Quick, try it."
A moment later, the computer screens all showed 'unban failed,' without even needing processing time, clearly telling them it was impossible.
"It's fine, at worst we'll just use a different email and reapply."
The group immediately reapplied for email addresses and then re-registered for Facebook.
Duang
"It has been detected that you have posted or spread dangerous remarks containing elements such as racial discrimination, murder, and terrorism. After careful consideration, we have decided to permanently ban your account."
The same sentence still popped up on the interface.
"What's going on? Reapplying doesn't work either?"
"Who can tell me what's going on?"
Elgar, the only one of the seven with some computer technical knowledge, looked troubled and said hesitantly: "I think we've probably been IP banned."
"IP banned, what does that mean?" William asked, eyes wide.
"It means this laptop can no longer be used. To reapply for an account, you'll likely need to use a different laptop to succeed."
As soon as these words were spoken, it was as if a series of big slaps landed on their faces.
This was not yet the future; laptop computers were relatively expensive, and a price of several thousand dollars was not something one could easily afford.
Thinking of this, their mood immediately turned terrible.
Just then, music started playing in the cafe.
There's a fire starting in my heart
Reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out the dark
The dynamic intro and rhythm, accompanied by Michael's voice, sang out. "Rolling in the Deep" echoed through the cafe.
Several customers immediately smiled, gently tapping their feet to the rhythm, and humming along with the CD.
The humming grew louder, and a moment later, almost all the customers began to sing along. Regardless of whether they sang well or not, the atmosphere was what mattered in a chorus.
Only the seven in the corner remained like clowns. At this moment, they suddenly couldn't understand.
Is this song really that good? Didn't they say Jackson's fans were all old people in their thirties and forties?
But many of the people in the cafe were clearly young people about their age. Something was wrong.
Is it their own problem?
Or the world's problem?
"Let's go!"
William angrily slammed the table and roared.
He used too much force, and the table banged loudly, instantly attracting the attention of others.
"Sorry, sorry, my mom was hit by a car and died!"
His heart tightened, and William quickly forced a smile, lying to apologize.
Hearing that his mother had died in a car accident, someone quickly opened the door to let them leave, and a kind person even asked if they needed help.
"Shit! Shit!"
Slunk away, the seven resumed their true colors and began to curse furiously.
Seeing a long queue at the record store nearby, Shirley pointed and said, "Let's go, let's buy Eminem's CD."
The others nodded, crossed the road, and walked to the record store, only for that dynamic music to once again assault their brains.
There's a fire starting in my heart
Reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out the dark
The seven instantly showed constipated expressions.
"OMG! Why is it Michael Jackson again? Why is it Michael Jackson everywhere we go? Why won't this nigger ever stop!"
William angrily roared.
"Fuck you!"
But no sooner had he spoken than a fist the size of a sandbag landed on his face. A black man swung his fist, hitting him hard on the head.
"NO! NO! NO!"
Seeing this, his companions quickly helped, kicking down the attacking black man.
However, in the blink of an eye, several burly men rushed out of the record store, their fists and feet raining down on the group like a storm.
Far away in Silicon Valley, Eric naturally didn't know what had happened.
Looking at MJ's homepage, which had returned to harmony and prosperity, Eric smiled genuinely, though Michael's fan count had dropped a bit.
"Boss, over 5,000 accounts have been banned, all IP bans. Consider it a lesson for him!"
"Hmm, from now on, if you notice anyone who doesn't know their place, insulting or harassing my friends, ban all their accounts. Facebook doesn't need a few small-time scoundrels."
"Understood."
"Then you guys keep an eye on things. I need to go back to Los Angeles. Call me if anything urgent comes up, and remember what I told you."
Fitz nodded seriously: "Okay, boss!"
On the way to the airport, Eric sent a mass text message to his friends in his contact list, asking for their help in promoting Michael's new song.
Minutes after the message was sent, Facebook was already like a relay race, playing a game of hot potato.
Tobey Maguire: "Found a great song, Michael Jackson's new song 'Rolling in the Deep.' I listened to it all night."
James Franco: "Toby recommended a fantastic song to me, 'Rolling in the Deep.' Everyone should give it a try."
Kirsten Dunst: "Maguire and Franco recommended Jackson's new song 'Rolling in the Deep' to me. Its melody and lyrics are simply amazing, especially the lyrics; I absolutely love it."
Nicole Kidman: "'Rolling in the Deep' is the best song I've heard recently. I love the mood and the music and lyrics of this song."
Gal Gadot: "I'm not someone who loves listening to music, but today I heard it on set, and I was deeply captivated by it. 'Rolling in the Deep,' you must listen to it!"
Johnny Depp: "An incredibly beautiful song. It reminds me of my early days in Hollywood."
Olsen Sisters: "There's a fire starting in my heart"
Humans are social animals and will subconsciously try to fit in.
Initially, Eric only chose friends with whom he had a good relationship; he felt uncomfortable asking those he had only met once for help.
However, as more and more people promoted it, even people he didn't know at all started promoting it spontaneously.
Finally, it evolved into a situation where, regardless of whether it sounded good or not, so many people were promoting it that he couldn't be left out.
Like a trend, if you don't get on board, you'll be out!
'Rolling in the Deep,' if you don't listen, you're out.