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Dr Conrad Murray listens as Judge Michael Pastor sentences him to four years in county jail for his involuntary manslaughter conviction of pop star Michael Jackson - Source: Reuters -
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Should Conrad Murray have been given the death penalty?
Had Michael Jackson been preparing for his comeback tour in Texas, rather than in California, when what Judge Pastor today described as the "Propofol madness" descended, the judgement today might have been markedly different, and the man being judged, Conrad Murray, might not have managed such an impassive demeanour.
The last time the state of California executed anyone was on January 17, 2006. The last time Texas executed a prisoner was 12 days ago. Were Texas a nation, it would lead the world in executions.
Listening to Judge Pastor's summation of Murray's misdeeds, you felt he wished he could have sent Jackson's personal physician off to the electric chair or - more appositely perhaps - the lethal needle. He excoriated Murray for 'blaming the victim' for 'lying', and for showing no remorse. He labelled him a danger to the community.
Piers Morgan, a consummate manufacturer of overstatement, tweeted that Judge Pastor wasn't just throwing the book at Conrad Murray, but the whole library. Well, fair enough; if we were to be judged on our tweets, the doors of Hell would swing open at once, especially for yours truly.
But the point is made. Judge Pastor said that from now on, Conrad Murray would be known as the man who killed Michael Jackson. By doing so Murray deprived the world of an incredible entertainer, the Jacksons of both a son, and brother, as well as a goose to lay golden eggs, and - according to prosecution filings - AEG, which was to stage his comeback tour, around $100 million in revenue.
More men have been killed for far far less.
Certainly some of Jackson's fans believe Murray should receive the death penalty. There's a Facebook page to that effect. Of course, there's a Facebook page to almost every effect now. Michael Jackson's mother Katherine, always the more measured one (the comparative, when describing Jacksons, is not always helpful), said that within the limitations of the law, justice had been done, but that four years was not enough. Arriving at LAX for the sentencing, brother Marlon noted darkly about how the real judgement would not occur on earth.
In fact, the debacle that is the California prison system means that Murray may well serve just over two years.
'The pure products of America go crazy&' so wrote the poet William Carlos Williams in 'To Elsie' in 1923, a line that critic Greil Marcus applied to Elvis Presley, and I'm attaching to Jackson (the black Elvis, if you will; a point Jackson himself underscored by marrying The King's daughter, and insisting on being called The King of Pop). At some point, depending on how things run, this formula may be used to describe the tribulations of one Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta, more widely known as Lady Gaga. We're talking about the big show here, after all.
William Carlos Williams was describing a feral strain in American private life, that if harnessed correctly, can turn popular culture into a goldmine. Elvis managed it. Michael Jackson did too. I'll let you know about Lady Gaga.
Typically those of us who were raised in more orderly countries, like New Zealand, view death as the suitable end-product of all that craziness. Too much of a good thing. Too much adulation. Too much money. Too much 'yes' and not enough 'no'. I've written squibs along these lines myself, believing them at the time. Now I'm not so sure. And there's a two-word counter-argument to this view: Keith Richards.
Last week I sat around with family in New Jersey, digesting our Thanksgiving dinner, drinking fiery Spanish cognac, and watching Michael Jackson videos. We laughed about his hair, were appalled at his plastic surgery, and speculated in an extremely libellous fashion about his sexual peccadilloes. We watched the 'Don't Stop Til You Get Enough' Michael, so young and so assured. And we watched the "Do you Remember the Time' video set in Egypt with Eddie Murphy as Pharaoh. Crazazay, but fun too.
As I was researching this story (translation: scooging around on the net), I came upon a site called eventful.com, that petitions musicians to perform in certain areas. The site, in that po-faced, stupid way of computers, informed me that there were no tours planned by Michael Jackson in the LA area in the near-future.
Then the inevitable pop-up went 'pop!' 'Would you like to be informed if Michael Jackson decides to play in Los Angeles?' the screen asked.
Call me a sentimentalist, I clicked 'yes'. I would like that. I would like that very much indeed.
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