I hate drama and have no patience or desire for it. Just get to the point and move on. And so begins this circus of the Michael Jackson child molestation trial in Santa Maria.

I pity the poor residents of that enclave. As if they didn’t have enough with all the media trucks, there are all the MJ fans that have converged on that quiet little town. The freak show needed freaks, and they came.

But what is worse than the fanfare is the stalling tactics and sympathy ploys employed by the King of Pop. Maybe he did have a case of the flu the other day, but wasn’t the hospital trip a bit over the top? Sympathy points and stall tactics conveniently rolled into one.

Remember the lawsuit involving MJ and the Millennium Concert promoter claiming that the Man in the Mirror skipped out on his end of the bargain? It always happens that at a crucial portion of a trial, Michael Jackson undergoes some form of illness or injury. In the case of that lawsuit, a hurt foot managed to delay the trial, thus prolonging the inevitable.

Remember Michael Jackson’s claims that Santa Barbara County Sheriff’s Dept. deputies roughed him up when he was arraigned for the current charges? I’ve never been in handcuffs before, but I do know that they don’t go all the way up your arm where MJ’s bruise was located. Basically, he blatantly lied about many aspects of that encounter, something that conveniently faded into the background.

If memory serves me right, there was the anxiety attack he had while in yet another trial some time back. You think there’s a pattern here?

When I was a kid, the only thing that would pound fear in my heart was an old-fashioned ass-whuppin’ from my mom. She was a wonderfully patient woman, but at times I decided to test that patience to the point of no return. This would lead to a meeting of the belt — or any nearby item such as a shoe or wooden spoon — with my ass.

Thinking I was slick, I once tried to evade capture and the beating that would follow. That was a stupid move on my behalf. Aside from the fact I deserved it, prolonging the inevitable made matters worse. It was a childish tactic that severely backfired.

And maybe that’s the problem that Michael Jackson is suffering from: a childish view of a seriously adult situation. The prolonging of the jury selection is not going to help his case. The people serving on that jury all have lives they want to get back to; after all, they’re merely human. If it were me, I’d be pissed off at the character for delaying my return to a normal life with every passing day.

Dancing on top of a limousine may be an indication that you’ve still got stylish moves, but it will not make the reality of the impending trial go away. To me, all it indicates is an attempt to divert eyes from the obvious, or as the late illusionist and magician Harry Houdini would call it, “redirecting.”

But maybe there’s another ploy behind the ploys: to create the potential for a mistrial based on how the jury will react to the delays and the freakish atmosphere surrounding this case. So far, the possibility of a “fair trial by a jury of one’s peers” has been compromised with all the freak show antics. Hopefully, Judge Melville and the prospective jurors can see through this criminal case disguising itself as a circus.

This leads to the question of whether the delays are recommended by MJ’s legal staff or are self-imposed. It doesn’t matter much at this point, as a negative precedent has been set.

It is not within my capabilities tell you whether or not the King of Pop is guilty of the charges he’s facing. Only the selected jury can do that based on the case presented. But it can be said that the behavior he’s currently exhibiting, and his past behavior, is nothing less than suspect.

I can’t offer my sympathy to the Thriller. That offering, as well as respect, is reserved for those 12 people sitting on that jury trying to do the right thing in an awfully whacked-out situation.

So suck it up, people; get ready for more drama in the months to come. Stall and delay, lie and deny is going to be the mantra in the Jackson-Mesereau camp. Barnum and Bailey have set up their three-ring circus in Santa Maria, and there’s a surplus of clowns. The sad reality is they’re not funny and, besides, I hate clowns.

Henry Sarria is a longtime Isla Vista resident.