Staircase
We ran into another Netflix series. This was one about the writer, Michael Peterson, who lost a couple of women in his life after they “fell” down a staircase.
It’s amazing to me that they make these docs over years and years.
Peterson was one weird dude.
He couldn’t stop laughing about how he was being victimized by the prosecutors who couldn’t understand that people fall down the stairs and die all the time. He was just unlucky to have it happen to to him twice.
There was a ton of blood.
He loved his wife! She was his soulmate!! How could anyone even think that (just because he was trying to sleep with men through an escort service) that he didn’t love his wife.
“I never cheated on my wife. I had sex with other men, but I didn’t have any affairs. Just sex.”
“Is that a dealbreaker?” I asked my wife.
“You having gay sex? Yeah. That might end it.”
We laughed.
Yet, there are 13 episodes of the documentary and in each one I grew more and more interested in the emotional story that was being told.
His daughters were squarely on his side.
His lawyers were intent on telling a story that would sway the jury, not actually worrying too much about what the evidence said.
“Lawyers lie,” was a dominating theme, and I found myself growing disgusted listening to them explain how they arrived at their expert testimony. Renowned expert Henry Lee explained why he wrote a flattering inscription in a book despite the fact that he disagreed with the findings of another pathologist.
“I was signing something nice. I couldn’t sign, ‘you’re lousy at your job,’ even though that’s what I thought,” Lee said, and there was great laughter.
There should not be paid testimony. People are paid to write reports or testify and they are willing to say or write anything.
Just paid liars.
Also, the prosecution also went through what Peterson wrote in his books to see if he had a diseased mind.
“What he writes isn’t what he feels,” I said.
“You’ve written some dark stories,” she said.
“Writers are just telling stories,” I said. “It’s a job.”
“Didn’t you say that you’re always the main character?” Kathy asked.
“Yeah, but my main characters are good guys!”
I can’t give away anymore.
The Peterson story...called the Staircase, I believe...
...is worth the time.
Stories of what people do to one another is utterly fascinating to me...
...especially when they’re your soulmate.
It’s amazing to me that they make these docs over years and years.
Peterson was one weird dude.
He couldn’t stop laughing about how he was being victimized by the prosecutors who couldn’t understand that people fall down the stairs and die all the time. He was just unlucky to have it happen to to him twice.
There was a ton of blood.
He loved his wife! She was his soulmate!! How could anyone even think that (just because he was trying to sleep with men through an escort service) that he didn’t love his wife.
“I never cheated on my wife. I had sex with other men, but I didn’t have any affairs. Just sex.”
“Is that a dealbreaker?” I asked my wife.
“You having gay sex? Yeah. That might end it.”
We laughed.
Yet, there are 13 episodes of the documentary and in each one I grew more and more interested in the emotional story that was being told.
His daughters were squarely on his side.
His lawyers were intent on telling a story that would sway the jury, not actually worrying too much about what the evidence said.
“Lawyers lie,” was a dominating theme, and I found myself growing disgusted listening to them explain how they arrived at their expert testimony. Renowned expert Henry Lee explained why he wrote a flattering inscription in a book despite the fact that he disagreed with the findings of another pathologist.
“I was signing something nice. I couldn’t sign, ‘you’re lousy at your job,’ even though that’s what I thought,” Lee said, and there was great laughter.
There should not be paid testimony. People are paid to write reports or testify and they are willing to say or write anything.
Just paid liars.
Also, the prosecution also went through what Peterson wrote in his books to see if he had a diseased mind.
“What he writes isn’t what he feels,” I said.
“You’ve written some dark stories,” she said.
“Writers are just telling stories,” I said. “It’s a job.”
“Didn’t you say that you’re always the main character?” Kathy asked.
“Yeah, but my main characters are good guys!”
I can’t give away anymore.
The Peterson story...called the Staircase, I believe...
...is worth the time.
Stories of what people do to one another is utterly fascinating to me...
...especially when they’re your soulmate.
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