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…and it isn’t Dr. Conrad Murray. There are serious questions about why this cardiologist did not know how to properly perform CPR that could have saved Michael Jackson’s life. And why was there a half-hour delay before 911 was called? And who was that person who made the call? From his continued use of the word “sir,” I would guess an employee of the household who was being directed by Murray, who was probably trying to revive Michael and/or cover up what had transpired in those crucial minutes.

And then there’s Dr. Arnold Klein, Michael’s dermatologist and the former employer of his former wife, Debbie Rowe. WhenI first moved to LA, Arnie was referred to me as “the best derma in town.” I had a little wart on my finger, and when I went in to his ritzy Beverly Hills office, he seemed to be very hyped up–read between the lines here–and then he proceeded to hard-sell me on his line of acne skin products. The problem was, I didn’t have acne. Just the aforementioned finger situation. Which required a return visit, during which the good doctor was again very hyped up….and again tried to sell me his overpriced skincare line. Not caring at all for his medical ethics, or lack thereof, or his two-second attention span, I never saw him again, but the experience left a very bad taste in my mouth.

Not surprisingly, the self-proclaimed “dermatologist to the stars” was later sued by Patricia Medavoy for his off-label use of Botox to treat her migraine headaches, for which she suffered severe side effects much worse than the headaches.

“How did you make it out of there alive?,” I somewhat seriously and somewhat facetiously asked Daily Show senior investigative foreign correspondent Jason Jones and producer Tim Greenberg about their recent trip to Iran. Their mission, and they chose to accept it, thinking they were going to France, was to somehow find humor “Behind the Veil,” as they’re calling their multi-part series documenting their ten-day journey to the land of the ayatollahs. 

After all, the two fake journalists could have easily become the male versions of Laura Ling and Euna Lee, or Roxana Saberi, thrown in jail by an oppressive Axis of Evil regime.

So how did The Daily Show manage to get two of its people into the country, with seemingly free rein?  Believe it or not, they’ve been working on it for about a year, hustling both the United States government and the Iranian consulate’s press attaché for permission — with assurances that Jones would not strip down in a mosque, or do anything else crazy. “You are mistaking us for real reporters,” they assured the bureaucrats, even while knowing there’s not a lot of laughter in bullets and death.

When the official okay finally came through, it was with this caveat — they were not allowed to bring any electronic equipment with them. No computers, no cameras. Not great for TV, but more on that later.

The timing was perfect.  They were able to go during the lead-up to the disputed June 12^th election, before things got completely crazy and blood was literally running in the streets.  They were safely back in an edit room in New York when the street demonstrations broke out, and would have probably been forced to leave the country anyway as other Western journalists, real journalists, have. They hired a fixer who then hired a crew with equipment– maybe not quite up to par, but good enough under the circumstances, until it wasn’t– a guide and a van. As Jones and Greenberg were trying to sleep off the jet lag shortly after arriving in Tehran, the fixer summoned them: they could actually go to a campaign rally for Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. They quickly jumped out of bed and headed out.

If you missed this initial piece in the series, you have to catch it online. We are talking laugh-out-loud funny, and the backstory is nearly as good. Without a translator, Jones, doing a standup with the hard-line Holocaust denier ranting and raving in the background, had to take it upon himself to translate. It was basically along the lines of, “He hates the Jews.”  Pause.  Turns to look at the bearded one and then back to camera. “Yes, he still hates the Jews.”

But what you didn’t see may have been as funny.  Jones and Greenberg told me when they were setting up in the crowd, an elderly, scarved woman looked at them and asked: “Zionistas?”

“Jason said, ‘Just my producer,’” Greenberg said, laughing at the memory. “That’s as close as I’ve been to a Holocaust denier since [former Daily Show correspondent} Rob Corddry,” added Jones.

Their time in Iran was enough for the two to discern that the political divide was akin to the red state-blue state thing we have here. Uneducated, fundamentalist, poverty-stricken residents who live in the desert and in small towns outside Tehran are most likely to be Ahmadinejad supporters, and sophisticated city-dwellers wearing green are in support of the other guy, Mousavi—no great shakes as a choice of leader if we had our say….which, of course, the wackjobs who have retained control of Iran seem to think we do. Yes, the series of deadly street demonstrations was a Zionist, British and American-orchestrated plot to destroy the democratic will of a great civilization. With more than 100% of the voted counted. 

But back to Jones and Greenberg.  Driving out to the desert, somewhere maybe near Qom, they were trying to shoot a funny bit with some camels, but the camels kept running away. It was a 13-hour day, and they got about 10 seconds of a shot, but Jones said even that was ruined by “cheap Iranian equipment.”

Unbelievably, they were actually given access to clerics and opposition leaders—who were later thrown in jail.  In a rare bit of serious journalism Monday night, Jon Stewart actually brought on the son of one of the dissidents to give an update about his father’s condition.  The man had been pulled out of a hospital bed and jailed. None of this is/was funny. In a play on Jay Leno’s famous Jaywalking segments TDS is calling Jihadwalking, Jones also managed to conduct many person on the street interviews in which he questioned people about their knowledge of the United States and its government, and– to his astonishment, and visible disgust– just about all of them passed with flying colors.  The Iranians he interviewed were able to name the three branches of government, the date and year of our independence day and a list of presidents going back for the past 50 years, in order.

They also learned that Ayatollah Khameini (which Greenberg insists is pronounced like a rhyme for “hominy”) is almost, but not quite as scary as that mullah from 1979 “Death to America” hostage hell, Ayatollah Khomeini. To most Americans, there isn’t really a difference.

Yet while Jones seemed to find a lot of intelligent and friendly people, again, much to his surprise, he was a bit confused by the men’s room facilities.  Apparently–and we don’t have to get graphic here — there is no toilet paper in Iran, but rather a hose. And Jones was thirsty, so he drank from it.  

What is this, an SNL skit? Sarah Palin is hysterical….accusing David Letterman of suggesting her young daughter should be raped. The late night host has been having fun with it all week. Yes, he made a mistake, thinking Palin was a Yankee game with daughter Bristol, the one who had the kid out of wedlock, and joking that A-Rod might knock her up in the 7th inning stretch. Turns out she was actually with one of her younger girls. Sigh…

No one would suggest that a 14 year old should have sex with a ballplayer. But Palin’s indignation about not going on Letterman and “raising the 62-year old entertainer’s ratings” is pretty funny, considering she’s been everywhere on the airwaves complaining about his pretty lame joke. Can’t wait until Tina Fey sends this up!

Scored another win for Showtime.  The pay cabler has come up with another buzzy show. For those of you who could not get enough of Edie Falco as Carmela Soprano, here she is–and absolutely riveting as the title character in “Nurse Jackie.”

From the opening sequence in which she expertly snorts tiny red pellets — I’m not familiar enough with pharmaceuticals to know exactly what sort of upper, tranquilizer or painkiller they are — Falco takes no prisoners during the course of her day as an ER nurse at a New York City hospital.

First victim: a hotshot young doctor, whose misdiagnosis causes a young bike messenger to die from his injuries.  After forging the victim’s name on an organ donor card and ordering the transplant people to get there pronto, Jackie reads Dr. Cooper (“Twilight’s” vampire patriarch Peter Facinelli) the riot act, telling him to “stay the f— out of my way,” and that she’s seen hundreds of jerk-offs like him. The rant ends in some inappropriate sexual touching on the doctor’s part, harassment he blames on a Tourette syndrome-like disorder—an issue that will rear its head throughout the season.

That’s not the only sex going on in this hospital, ironically named All Saint’s and run by the severe Gloria Akalitus (thus far one-dimensionally played by Anna Deavere Smith.)  Jackie has a thing for the Eddie the pharmacist (Paul Schulze, who, with a wink and a nod, played the priest with whom Carmela had a chaste fling on “The Sopranos.”)  Their brief workaday trysts usually end in declarations of love, and packages of Percocet. Jackie is a pro at keeping her addiction under wraps — filling packets of sweetener with crushed up Vicodin and even fishing out a pill dropped down the drain with a toothbrush and a piece of gum.

An arrogant, hot British doctor (Eve Best as Dr. Eleanor O’Hara) who loves impossibly high heels and tight skirts is Jackie’s unlikely best friend at the hospital, and somehow they manage to skip out regularly to lunch at elegant places nearby.

Another confidante is fellow nurse Mohammed “Mo-mo” de la Cruz (Haaz Sleiman), who is in an overly dramatic relationship with his boyfriend and constantly fending off passes from other hospital staffers and patients.

And then there’s Zoey (Merritt Wever), the zaftig, naïve nursing student who’s under Jackie’s wing, making her debut by barfing after being asked to put a severed body part on ice. Jackie had already told her, “I don’t do chatty.  I like quiet.  Quiet and mean.  Those are my people.”

But Jackie does like people. Her compassion for many of her patients extends far beyond the call of duty. She’s been known to rob Peter to pay Paul, taking money from a scumbag’s coat pocket and giving it to a pregnant widow, or whizzing through the aisles of the hospital pharmacy picking up medications on the sly for a girl to give to her mother.

Addict.  Adulterer.  And mother.  Yes.  Jackie is married, although no one at the hospital seems to know that, as she takes off her wedding ring before work and puts it on only when she heads home. She and her handsome, loving husband — who owns a bar — have two fairly adorable young girls. But there is trouble brewing with one of the kids.

Secrets and lies, life and death situations. Through it all, through knowing blue eyes that match her scrubs, Falco’s performance — and this edgy, contemporary character — is exceptional.            

Let’s see….UC Merced got Michelle Obama, and UCLA gets actor James Franco. Well, not any more. Looks like the handsome, successful actor got bounced out of the primo commencement speaking gig June 12 by some students who resented the fact that he just graduated, and hasn’t really done anything with his degree in creative writing.  Franco started at the Westwood campus in ’96, dropped out and just recently went back to finish his degree. In the interim, of course, came fame with roles in Freaks and Geeks, Pineapple Express, Milk and Spider-Man. Academic respect? Maybe not so much. The Franco camp disengaged, saying he had to be in preproduction in Ireland that day for a film called Your Highness.

Wonder who the Bruins will tap as the speaker, knowing he/she was second choice. Um, conundrum!

NBC didn’t waste any time announcing the start date of what’s now being called “The Jay Leno Show,” although that title could change. He’ll be on at 10 starting Sept. 14. Leno went out with a bang after 17 years in the Tonight Show chair, having the grace to seat Conan O’Brien as his last guest and making a plea to the audience to support him. Conan, in his first show, also took time to pay tribute to Jay. I’ve heard through credible sources that Jay did not give a similar shout-out to Johnny Carson when he took over the late night franchise from one of the 20th century’s comedy icons. If so, he’s certainly manned up about being gracious, something I can’t say for David Letterman, who’s apparently still bitterly pissed that he didn’t get the Tonight Show chair, all these years later and despite his own, very succesful piece of late night and cultural real estate.

Jay’s last show was really moving, starting with the lengthy standing ovation and ending with James Taylor performing “Sweet Baby James”–and then Leno bringing out the 68 kids that have been born to staffers during the nearly two-decade long run.  We’ll see if he can still bring it at 10.

Conan, meanwhile, is getting immersed in LA “culture,” judging by some of his opening night skits, like driving around town in his 1992 Ford Taurus, and causing all the ladies to swoon. The network is hoping the audience does too, since it’s a huge profit center for the Peacock.