Exhibit A: The Voice On The Tape, which sounds nothing like the Michael Jackson the world knew…
…sounds uncannily like Sly Stone.
Exhibit B: A thirtysomething father of two from the Deep South reports that he had no idea this was happening. I sat stunned. “You don’t read the papers?” I inquried.
“Once upon a time,” he replied, “two kids, a house, and a wayward 19-year-old friend ago–I did.”
Exhibit C: Amidst all this talk of a drug which, some said anyway, should only be administered in a hospital, by a trained anesthesiologist, a drug which takes the user up to the thin line between “this” and the void, all the talk of who was, or was not, qualified to take another person that far…amidst all the yelling and interrupting came the obligatory commercial break. For a stool softener.
“It doesn’t make you go,” cooed the smooth female voice-over. “It makes it easier to go.”
