Staffordshire Bullterrier
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I met Michael more than 20 years ago; I went to teach him meditation at Neverland. He was very shy, very introverted, but very curious about consciousness and spirituality.
You know, while the world called him weird, he wondered why the world was so weird. He'd ask me, Why do people go to war?
Why is there genocide? What's happening in Sudan? Why have we killed the environment? Why is there racism and bigotry and hatred and prejudice?
We talked about starving children in Mumbai, and he would start to cry. Or we'd start to talk about the trophy-hunting in Canada of the grizzly bear, and he would start to cry.
In his mind, the world was psychotic.
Michael had a skin disease called leukoderma, which created huge patches of white. He had, as a result, a very, very poor image of his body.
He was almost ashamed of it. That's why he would cover it up. Why do you think he wore a glove and all that stuff?
He would not go into his swimming pool in his own house with his clothes off. He would just jump into the pool at the last moment, you know, take his robe off,
but he was ashamed that people would look at all the blotches on his skin. (Read about Jackson's mysterious medical history.)
After his trial, he started getting these medical prescriptions from doctors and they were all for narcotics, and he asked me for a prescription,
and that's when I became suspicious of what was going on. It was the drugs. Totally enabled by these Hollywood mafia drug-dealer doctors who have medical licenses
and should be brought to justice. The same thing happened with Anna Nicole Smith, the same thing has happened over the years with
— and I'm not going to mince my words — Elizabeth Taylor. I know these guys, and they should be in jail.