There is a problem with Ms. Coulter’s “Why Can’t I Get Arrested?”, in which she points to a series of “trumped-up criminal charges” against conservatives, and blames Democratic prosecutors. It seems to me Coulter misses the real issue, or simply sacrifices it for partisan point scoring.
Having said that, I am pretty sure she is correct, and that the indictments she cites are mostly a sham. I am also quite certain that for every rogue Democrat prosecutor there’s a Republican every bit as knavish. Patrick Fitzgerald’s “Plamegate” is indubitably bogus, just as the prosecutions of Conrad Black, Martha Stewart, and Michael Jackson are highly problematic. That is if the “Rights Of Englishmen“—due process, habeas corpus, the right to counsel; no crime without intent, no self incrimination, no retroactive law—count. And of course, some law is simply naturally illicit. Limbaugh might have been Addicted to that Rush, but the use of force against those who ingest, inject, or inhale drugs must be rejected. As I’ve written, “incarcerating people for their consumption choices has the consistency of arresting a survivor of suicide for attempted murder.”
Back to the central mistake in the Coulter column: Rogue prosecutors are deploying the law—law that is on the books for abuse by any Justice Department uberbloodhound, Democrat or Republican. It is not that Republicans are saints and Democrats are sinners, as Ms. Coulter’s tack suggests (they’re more or less competitively corrupt). Rather, rotten, unconstitutional law, and politically voracious prosecutors who abuse power are the problem.
'Midnight Express'
That “Midnight Express” didn’t make Time’s All-Time 100 Movies confirms my opinion of the magazine. (Thankfully that 1952 classic, “Ikiru,” made the cut. I’m a big fan of Akira Kurosawa’s work. You bought that last statement? It was a joke; I was just mimicking the pretentious pseudos at Time.)
These days, a man’s home is considered the government’s castle. The case of Cory Maye, unjustly placed on death row for defending his home during a drug bust (the intrepid Tom Knapp elaborates on the case here, as does Radley Balko) conjures the achingly beautiful words of the convicted protagonist in “Midnight Express”:
“Mr. Prosecutor, I just wish you could stand right here where I am standing and feel what that feels like…cause then you’d know something you don’t know—you’d know what mercy means, Mr. Prosecutor—and you’d know the concept of a society is based on the quality of its mercy, of its sense of fair play, its sense of justice…”
‘Midnight Express’
That “Midnight Express” didn’t make Time’s All-Time 100 Movies confirms my opinion of the magazine. (Thankfully that 1952 classic, “Ikiru,” made the cut. I’m a big fan of Akira Kurosawa’s work. You bought that last statement? It was a joke; I was just mimicking the pretentious pseudos at Time.)
These days, a man’s home is considered the government’s castle. The case of Cory Maye, unjustly placed on death row for defending his home during a drug bust (the intrepid Tom Knapp elaborates on the case here, as does Radley Balko) conjures the achingly beautiful words of the convicted protagonist in “Midnight Express”:
“Mr. Prosecutor, I just wish you could stand right here where I am standing and feel what that feels like…cause then you’d know something you don’t know—you’d know what mercy means, Mr. Prosecutor—and you’d know the concept of a society is based on the quality of its mercy, of its sense of fair play, its sense of justice…”
My Evisceration of Catharine Mackinnon
“The strength of ideas rests on their relationship to reality. Mackinnon’s unrealistic fulminations against a phantom patriarchy exist in the arid arena of pure thought. There are places where Catharine Mackinnon might pursue her métier more productively. Decamping to Darfur is one option—her work will have relevance there.”
This is an excerpt from my withering review of Catharine Mackinnon’s Women’s Lives, Men’s Laws is in The American Conservative’s end-of-the-year issue. Writer Rob Stove tells me that my “philippic,” entitled “MacKinnon’s Textual Harassment,” demonstrates that “MacKinnon is clearly even ghastlier than [he’d] imagined.” Purchase the magazine—it will remain in shops well into January—and be sure to check out Rob’s “Beethoven piece,” which appears alongside mine.