Ex-King of Pop

The Cup of Death, by Elihu Vedder

Well, the i's are not all dotted, nor the t's crossed yet, but it does seem as if Michael Jackson died from taking an anesthetic that is supposed to be administered only in a monitored clinical setting, i.e., an outpatient surgery, or hospital OR, under the watchful eye of an anesthetist or anaesthesiologist, whilst the patient is hooked up to a machine reading his vital signs.

Giving it to help somebody sleep at home is a no-no skidding right into malpractice.

Propofol, aka Diprivan™, only lasts for about five minutes a dose, and those addicted to it -- almost all of whom are nurses, doctors, or other hospital personnel who can get their hands on it because it isn't a Schedule II drug (yet) -- hit themselves with it repeatedly. If you have somebody watching, you can hook up an IV and a drip, and when you are ready to wake up, they shut it off and presto! there you are, feeling like a million bucks!

Except if you, ah, did it wrong, in which case, there you used to be, because now, you are deader 'n black plastic. The OD rate for this is incredibly high for abusers outside the hospital, and the margin of error vis a vis the dosage, almost nil. A cc too much, you might get a call from St. Peter.

Michael! Come on down!

This isn't going to surprise me if that's what happened to Jackson. Elvis bought himself a couple of drugstores so he'd be supplied, and there's always a Doctor Feelgood out there somewhere.

Got money? Baby, I got what you need ...

The doctor on hand says he just happened to notice that Jackson wasn't breathing. As he, you know, happened to be walking by the bedroom. Uh huh.

Jackson reportedly had been using the stuff for a couple of years, and it could well be that the most recent doc didn't prescribe it for him, but if he was administering it, he's still looking at involuntary manslaughter.

New actors, but the same old story ...