There haven’t been a lot of hearty chuckles emanating from the Sunshine State courtroom where Casey Anthony is being tried for murder in the first degree. Accused of the premeditated killing of her adorable daughter Caylee, the case is most certainly of the grimmest order. Much of the country is hanging on the every word of the prosecutor, defense, expert witnesses and all involved parties who take the stand. Horny dudes are tweeting about shacking up with the comely defendant in her prison cell, legal experts are picking apart every facet of the case, and otherwise loving mothers are crying for Casey’s blood. It’s truly been a whirlwind ride thus far, and perhaps the best is yet to come.
We’ve already seen law enforcement officials (local and FBI), forensic scientists (experts in the field of computer data retrieval, human body decomposition, chemists, and physicists to name a few), and even members of Ms. Anthony’s immediate family testify. What lies beyond is up to the state and the defense, as the jury bears witness to what may be a death sentence for the so-called Tot-mom. (Has Nancy Grace trademarked this nickname? She’s the only one beating it to death.)
It’s been mostly solemn testimony, replete with tears both true and crocodile. Frantic 911 calls, seemingly cold-blooded google searches for various homicidal methodologies and graphic photos of a toddler’s skull bound by duct tape. Not a lot of laughs: until now.
Levity, in my personal estimation, is both underutilized and underrated. In times like this, it’s important to put a human face on the crime and remember that you should always look on the bright side of life, even as you may be gleefully skipping toward the electric chair.
Though she may be soon strapped to a gurney and a lethal cocktail may course through her godless veins, we should always remember the Casey Anthony that was before all this opprobrious murder business. Long before Caylee was an accidental blasocyst in a reluctant uterus, there was a vivacious party girl living the life. Before we condemn Casey, and march her to the gallows, lets think about the loss of lifestyle that all skanky boozehounds must endure when they take on the duties of motherhood. Seen at right, hootin’ and hollerin'; with some of her closest friends; Casey surely enjoyed the nightlife. She had to make major sacrifices as a mother, and who amongst us hasn’t created a euphemism for illegally obtained anxiety medicine in the form of an imaginary babysitter, drugged their child, and headed out for the night. No one can be sure what OJ and Casey discussed the night this photograph was taken, but if Orenthal James was truly the good friend he claimed to be, he could have at least offered her a better lawyer.
The Dream Team, as they were nicknamed, convinced a jury to offer a not guilty verdict in perhaps the most publicized trial in the legal history of the United State. OJ walked on that fateful day in 1996, and comparatively, Casey’s team seems to be shooting nothing but bricks. Much of the media has criticized the defense’s angles and even poked holes in the character of the attorney who has taken the lead in Casey’s defense. Jose Baez might be in this only for the publicity. He seems to enjoy taking pictures with people outside the courthouse and has smiled graciously for all those offering the lens. The cameras inside the courtroom present a much different tonality, one where the state seems to be slam-dunking their case. Regardless of the astronomical amount of evidence that seems to indicate premeditation, Baez cross-examines all the witnesses with the witless wonder of a person who is trying their first murder case. (He is.) Prior to this, his experience was only with much lesser infractions and, as the media has pointed out, he has dealt with some of his own legal imbroglios.
The following snapshots from the trial are photographic representations of real and true events occurring in the courtroom on a daily basis. Some of the inflections are added for affectation, but the general public seems to have reached similar conclusions based on the limited evidence the state has already presented.
Whether or not Jose Baez has really said this to his client is up for debate, but some might argue that if Casey is “fucked,” Jose Baez is the one helping to apply the legal lubricant on the path to Casey’s lethal injection.
While Casey reminisces about the days gone by, and her legal team contemplates what to have for lunch, the media is constantly reminding us about the victim. After all, this is a murder trial. Casey is accused of the slaying of her own daughter, but the state has been unable to declare with any solvency exactly how the heinous deed was done.
They brought in a total bad-ass named Arpad Vass to discuss air samples taken from the back of Casey’s car where the state alleges Tot-mom placed the dead child’s remains for a time before the final burying. Vass, who was both informative and enthusiastic on the stand, testified that he found levels of chloroform considered to be exceedingly high in the air quality of the trunk of her automobile. Could chloroform have been used to sedate this innocent child’s system so that Casey could party? Could the homemade chemical synthesis have accidentally caused an overdose leading to what the state would have to consider manslaughter instead of murder? Did Casey depress her daughter chemically, then bind her nose and mouth with duct tape to effectively suffocate her daughter in a dangerous chess game being played with her own overbearing mother? All of these hypotheses seem plausible. All of the evidence indicates foul play. The innumerable internet searches for the word chloroform seem to back up the state’s claims. The defense, however, states something completely different.
Casey seemed to change boyfriends as often as she did panties and began dating a real classy fellow a few months prior to the alleged events. That debonair gentleman placed a charming graphic on his myspace page depicting a man and woman during the waltz that is the courting process. His arm firmly placed around the young lady’s shoulder holds a rag as he leans in for a delicate kiss on the cheek. The words Win her over with chloroform emblazon the darkened borders forming a wonderfully ridiculous scene. The defense alleges that Casey happened upon this picture on her boytoy’s page, and only with curious wonder, did she seek to find out what chloroform was (84 times). That original pic can be seen by clicking this link but it does not explain why the following pic appeared on her own social media outlets just a few short weeks later. Have a look.
The picture above is damning enough, but this is America and one is considered innocent until proven guilty. Though the court of public opinion has already convicted Casey, executed her a thousand times and yearns deeply for Casey’s immortal soul to be eaten by ravenous maggots, the show must go on.
The word ‘show’ is very pertinent in this case. Considering what we now know about the various alibis Casey fabricated to her family and police, many have labelled Casey a sociopath and a pathological liar. It would be hard to argue against these claims. False stories, fake lineages of imagined families, untrue declarations of employment and countless wild goose chases have characterized the investigation and now the trial. Casey spun a web of lies that would makes Anthony Weiner (D-NY) seem like a complete amateur. From Zanny the Nanny and her conjured family to ethereal office space at Universal Studios, Casey led the cops around by their badges for as long as she could all the while maintaining that the location of her child was her main priority. When her river of bullshit was fully waded through, the focus of the investigation turned to the choice that Occam himself would have probably pointed at first. At the onset of the trial, the defense immediately conceded that Casey had falsified large portions of her statements to the cops and conjured imaginary personalities to link the crime to. It worked for a bit but now may be the most damning evidence against her character. She, no doubt, gets an A for effort.
As it stands now, the state is midway through their case and the defense has yet to begin their own. What lies ahead in this trial is probably just as inexplicable as what had led us up to this point. As mentioned above, the verdict of guilty has already been etched on the hearts and minds of the American public and the defense will have an almost insurmountable uphill climb if they indeed seek an acquittal. The prosecution has asked for the death penalty, and should they get it, this case will probably play out for a few more years in the appeal process before Casey takes that solemn march into the next life.
Can the Anthony family pick up the pieces of this tragedy, move forward with their lives and achieve some semblance of a normal life after Casey is made the pincushion of Florida’s mortal syringe? The answer is: doubtful. But, as mentioned earlier, this is America and there is always the prospect of profiteering from heinous crimes and, at minimum, using this catastrophe to enact some financial gain.
Would the Anthony’s not be the perfect spokespeople for Febreze? Cindy Anthony has already testified that she used a full bottle of the odor-removing product in an effort to dilute some very unpleasant smells from the trunk of Casey’s sporty Pontiac Sunfire. Febreze couldn’t possibly buy this type of exposure and publicity and should sign the Anthony’s to some sort of endorsement contract for any future homicides that may come their way. Febreze aside, there are multitudinous product tie-ins that may result from this trial, not even counting the free advertising some of the expert witnesses have got hocking their various products live on the witness stand. Now is the time to invest in CacheBack and the Labrador, both of which are cleverly named products used to build the case against Casey.
As these words are being written, a quick glance at the clock indicates the trial will be picking back up in about twenty minutes. What surprises lay in store for eager spectators of this landmark case remain to be seen. Will Casey finally break down and cop to the deed? Will she hurtle herself headlong into the throes of justice and accept an execution with whatever honor she has left? Only time, testimony and the decision of a jury of her peers will help complete this tale.
However, this roller-coaster of litigious tumult could probably have all been avoided had the state been privy to the incriminating content of Casey’s how-to book on maternity.