First up we had Diane Hansen, who arrived at the courthouse at 4am on day one, declaring "I'm here to support this victim of child abuse". Funnily enough, she didn't mean Michael Jackson, she meant Gavin Arvizo, but hey, it's so easy to get those two mixed up. Never one to acknowledge a double standard, Diane was there primarily to raise awareness. Awareness of her new book, that is, snappily entitled 'Those Are My Private Parts'. Which sounds like home-produced porn, but isn't. Diane read aloud from her book, a work of some genius, which contained such moving poetry as this:
Anyone that I love and trust,
Listen to me it is a must,
You will never ever touch or play,
With my private parts in any way.
Reading it reduced her to tears. Hearing it had a similar effect on me.
Having spread her emotional message in a dignified, understated fashion, Diane then went back to shouting "Those are my private parts!" through a megaphone, and we moved on to Liddy, a mother of three from the UK.
Liddy was very definitely in the Michael Jackson camp, stating "I couldn't be at home looking after my kids, going through day to day life with them, knowing that this important thing was happening and I wasn't there to see it". No, of course not, that would be ridiculous. Though at a push you could've brought the kids and asked Michael to look after them.
She continued, "all of my morals, everything, was built around Michael. To love people, to be kind, charitable, to heal the world". No, that's Jesus you're thinking of. Michael Jackson was more about selling records. Although he does have a lot in common with certain Catholic priests.
The opposing view was presented by Ralph, a tree surgeon from Santa Maria, who turned up at the courthouse with a banner which read "Neverland A Sex Trap for Children", an act which had led to him receiving death threats. I'm not surprised - his punctuation was criminal. At the very least he needs a colon after 'Neverland'. But Ralph summed up Jackson's situation with these insightful words: "If he acts like a duck, quacks like a duck, looks like a duck, he's a duck". Well he certainly looks like a duck. Although I'm not sure you can convict someone for that, even in America.
Back home in Dagenham, Essex, Liddy was busy acknowledging the religious angle, asking "Why is it weird to follow him, and not weird to follow a religion?" before declaring "I'm lucky, because people don't get to meet Jesus". True - he's been dead for two thousand years. Although on the plus side, he wasn't a paedophile.
But it hasn't been easy for Liddy, who painted an eloquent, and moving, picture of her deprived childhood. I believe her exact words were "we were shit poor and had fuck all". Which of course led her to Michael Jackson. Whose albums only cost a tenner or so.
Liddy admitted that "Michael has the freakiest fans in the world", and that "the poor guy has to meet them as well", before going on to state "I'm not a weirdo", and starting to arrange her next trip to Neverland.
Meanwhile, back in Santa Maria, tree surgeon Ralph was becoming concerned for Michael's wellbeing. He said "I don't think he can make it through this trial. He ain't got the cojones - Spanish for testicles". Well not his own, no. But with a bit of alcohol and a porn mag, he could probably get his hands on somebody else's.
Over at the courthouse, however, Diane was arriving for another day's campaigning, this time armed with a plastic duck on a pole. And why? Because "Michael Jackson allegedly calls sperm 'duck butter'". Which explains everything. The crowd, to their credit, responded as one, with a cry of "Shut your lesbian cake hole". Which seemed a bit harsh - she's married to a plumber called Rob, y'know. Though she does look good in dungarees.
But guilty or innocent, there's no denying that Michael Jackson has worldwide support. Most notably in the form of Dieter, a young European who's recently risen to fame in California. Apparently "Dieter is famous amongst the fans for shouting 'Belgium loves you, Michael'". Blimey, you don't have to do much to become famous these days, do you. Someone should've told Ellen MacArthur. She could've stayed at home all these years.