I heard the rumours and the news reports coming in late last night, but this morning it was confirmed on the front of the Metro: Michael Jackson died of a heart attack yesterday.

I don’t know about you, but I can’t believe this has happened. It wasn’t so much of a surprise as it was hard to swallow.

There is no denying that Michael was – and in my opinion, still is – the King of Pop, no matter whom the media tries to replace him with. There will never be anyone like him in music, or even the world, ever again. When it came down to raw talent, passion and dedication, he smoked everybody.

Unfortunately it’s only going to be a matter of time before the sick Internet jokes start flooding in, just like they did with Jill Dando all those years ago.

While it’s a very dark day (the rain clouds are outside as I write) and I mourn this incredibly huge loss, I am also happy for him. He no longer has to deal with people who were out to get him, and also the army of people who believe the first negative things they hear about him.

I never believed the bullshit about him being a paedophile, but at the end of the day nobody knows what really went on – except for Michael and the kids at the forefront of the trials.

We’ve lost a lot of brothers in the last few years: James Brown, Barry White, Luther Vandross, Isaac Hayes and several more I can’t think of right now. Now that Michael Jackson is gone, we don’t have any more great black music artists left.

Drew Maughan salutes Michael Jackson: proof that introverts can make it to fame and fortune. He’s an inspiration, and in my book the greatest.