Conspiracy Theory: Cause What Fun Is Reality?

If you don't live under a rock, you are probably aware that Michael Jackson, the King of Pop, died Thursday in Los Angeles. Regardless of the bizarreness that plagued his recent years, he had tremendous talent and molded the music industry for more than a decade. His music will live on for a long time.

One networked showed photos of MJ in his hyperbaric oxygen "anti-aging" chamber. That worked well, huh?

The predominant theories regarding his death revolve around chronic illnesses and addiction to prescription pain medications. Reliable bloggers in the pharmacology community have helpfully explained cardiotoxic effects of Demerol (meperidine).

Click on this link for another helpful blog.

Self-destructive drug use by a celebrity? Echos of Elvis... Heath Ledger... ?

No, this all seems too easy. There must be more to the story than this. I mean, does anyone really benefit from the death of Michael Jackson, the master of Neverland? Wouldn't those he owed money rather he had finished his upcoming London concerts?

Never fear, for as I have been doing laundry on a Friday evening (yes, my life is this pitiful), my mind has had time to wander over the events of this week. In my prolonged period of drug-free thought, I have identified the one person who has clearly benefited from Michael Jackson's demise:

Yes, the "lost boy" of South Carolina, Mark Sanford. This guy jetted to Argentina for the weekend for an affair. No transfer of power, and apparently he didn't even maintain electronic access with the office. This scandal dominated early in the week. It's gone now.

Coincidence? Do you really believe in coincidence? Or do you want to believe yet another celebrity burned out and died young?

Hot Gossip in New Orleans

I had two completely uneventful flights (thank you, United Airlines) and arrived in New Orleans for Experimental Biology, too late for the Cannon lecture, but well in time for the opening reception. I had two drink tickets - not using them would be wasteful!

I hung out near the bars, figuring eventually I would catch up with everyone I know (rumors that we are raging alcoholics are patently untrue). We were a bit distressed when the pregnant grad student found out that they charged a drink ticket for a plastic cup of water - for a drink ticket we figured she should at least get the whole bottle! APS, take note and fix this for next year!

Eventually I was approached by the president of APS, Irv Zucker, who had a very important question for me: Who is Dr. Isis? I had to disappoint him; even though I have had frequent interactions with the goddess, all have been through her Dr. Isis email and the blogosphere.

We then proceeded to the president's reception (free bar, Makers Mark bourbon, and nice desserts) - did I mention that he is the chair of Cellular and Integrative Physiology at my institution and I have a courtesy appointment in his department? Well, EVERYONE is trying to figure out who Dr. Isis might be. Apparently this was a hot topic for the APS Council. Even colleagues with no interest in shoes or fashion porn are discussing this riddle.

As for me, I'm not certain I want to know. The mystery is part of the fun. For the rest of the meeting I will be looking at every female vascular physiologist with a runner's physique, pasty ankles, and hot shoes, and wondering if she could be the goddess.