If Michael Jackson had had a “hard” phone line, he might have been alive today—though might is the operative word. But since the house on Carolwood was 16,000 square feet, it sort of makes sense that everyone communicated with each other by cell phone (sort of like losing somebody in a mall).
As the Murray defence team prepares to rest their case (with a whimper instead of a bang)—unless of course Conrad Murray decides to testify tomorrow (stay tuned)—what has emerged very clearly are two things: We will never really know what happened the morning of Michael Jackson’s death, (certainly not from the limited amount of trial and witness testimony the Hon. Judge Michael Pastor allowed in this present trial); and a haunting portrait of what can only be called “Palace Culture”—the home schooling, the in-house private physician, the chef who stayed in the kitchen, a protected perimeter, curiously removed from the world, a security staff who resided in a shack with no bathroom facilities (and no telephones except their cells), where protocols were strictly observed and staff positions regulated in an old-fashioned manner with a curiously modern twist, the empty bottles of juice on Michael Jackson’s bedside table and a mysterious IV stand. Smoothies and propofol.
The defence’s key expert witness, Dr. Paul White, blurted out in court Monday that Michael Jackson had his “own stash” of propofol, in addition to that which Murray had provided. A statement for which White was fined $1,000. (He’d been restricted by Pastor from telling the jury anything he’d learned from Conrad Murray, who may never be subject to cross-examination.) It’s probably true, nonetheless.
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