Justice Denied

Got an alert from my iWatch the other day. My resting heart rate had notched up from 51 to 53. It doesn't take a pulmonologist to know why. I've been stewing, as is my wont. 

It's been said the wheels of justice grind slow in America. It doesn't help when some faux billionaire is cacking up the machinery with 7 year old molasses. And then, because he has the monetary wherewithal, and willing legal accomplices, slathering on a thick coat of quick dry cement.

This judicial morass had me so upset the other day, I penned an open letter to Chief Justice John Roberts...

Dear Justice Roberts,

 

You pig.

 

You lackluster lackey of the GOP.

 

You useless standard bearer of banality.

 

I say that with the greatest respect. Because if I were to put my true feelings into words, this missive might merit a call from the Secret Service. Or, at the very least, a ban on many of the social media platforms where I share my foulmouthed opinion. And dare I say, the shared opinion of many more.

 

It has now been more than a month since the lower courts kicked up the case regarding our ex president’s claim to “Total Immunity.” A phrase that, as you well know, appears nowhere in the law books at Yale, Harvard or even the DeVry Institute. A cockamamie term that was cooked up on ketchup-stained wholecloth. A legal fabrication sewn together by failed ambulance chasers at the behest of a clown who, even with a Colt 45 to his temple, could not name one seminal case to ever come across the docket of the Supreme Court.

 

“Marbury v. Madison? Brown v. Board of Education? Plessy v. Ferguson?”

 

“COVFEFE”

 

And yet the equally uninformed voters of this country vaulted this Bozo to a position where he could name three of your not-so-esteemed colleagues. 

 

The future of our 248-year old Republic hinges on the no-brainer ruling of this case. But to this date, you have done nothing.

 

Nothing!

 

Maybe you’ve been busy eluding reporters and dodging bullets about Justice Clarence “Tom” Thomas and his financial indiscretions. Maybe you’ve been busy measuring the curtains for the next 25 years of your ridiculously eternal office. Maybe you’ve been busy getting your robes starched. What you have NOT been doing is clearing the decks and moving this case front and center.

 

Now.

 

I’m no lawyer, thankfully. Though, as I often tell people – not without some measure of pride – I took a late post-collegial interest in becoming a fully-fledged attorney. So, while I did not have the grades for one of your fancy law schools I did quite respectful on the LSATs. I even have one of those beat up, but hipster cool looking, leather briefcases left to me from late father who was a CPA.

 

Though a simple layman with an advanced degree in Snark, even I know this “Total Immunity” claim, which would rocket one miserable Un-American Russian Stooge facing 91 criminal charges miles above the law, is nothing 100 pounds of horseshit stuffed into a 27 page brief.

 

Do. Your. Job.

 

Yours not-warmly but heatedly,

 

Rich

The story doesn't end there. Hours after I posted this letter on various social media platforms -- I'd like to think he heeded my wise advice -- Justice Roberts and his klan of neofascists did their job. 

They agreed, despite all the political and legal pundit's advice, to take up the case and consider whether one man, one walking talking fleshbag of cholesterol, hatred and unimaginable ignorance, is actually above the law.

Not now, mind you. Not in December when Jack Smith petitioned to court to settle this crock of bullshittery. But in April. The end of April. 

There is a very distinct possibility that despite 91 criminal charges against him -- charges which for all intents and purposes would have any of 330 million Americans sitting in a jail cell with no possibility of bond --he could be elected President of the United States of America.

If I drank Chamomile Tea I'd be guzzling it by the gallon. 

I can literally feel my heart racing.