Scaley Deals Miranda Out. Defendants to get Deck of Rights Cards

It has taken him a long time, but Scaley has finally and forever finessed Miranda.

Once upon a time, criminal defendants in America were guaranteed certain Constitutional rights by the Founding Fathers.  The best one--and, admittedly, the hardest one to use--was the Right to Remain Silent.  If you're a criminal, you are probably so damned proud of how smart you are, you'll want to taunt David Caruso to his sideways, half-cocked, sun-glassed face.  If you're an innocent, you want to provide all the details of your not-guilt. Stay silent? Very hard. Talk a blue streak? You bet.

The 1966 Miranda case, along with some others Scaley didn't like, required the police to tell a suspect that he or she had Constitutional rights and to summarize what they were.  After a few fraked up cases, police started carrying cards with lawyer-approved sentences printed on them.  The whole card was shorter than your last tweet, but really helped those who dozed through Constitutional Law in their first year of law school.

The police would spank their suspect against their cruiser, read the card to their suspect and invite him or her to flush all those Founding Father assured rights down a nearby port-a-potty.  This was not called a "flushing", which would have made sense, but the better known, lawyer-word "waiver." This "waiver" became the most sought after thing in all of law enforcement.  Next to health insurance.

Generally, when you waived your rights, the police could understand that.  Your suspect might say, "Waive my rights? Sure. Them Founding Fathers didn't know shinola about crime, so phooey on them and their wigs."  Or something very close to that. After that it was, "Hey, call Dick Cheney!" and off to jail.

Not always, however, were suspects so clear about waivers.  Some got into the habit of looking skyward, scratching their chins and saying, "Hmm.  I think I maybe want a lawyer."  Or, "Perhaps not talking to you fellas would be more advisable than not."  How is a cop to know if that's serious waiver talk?

So, Scaley directed his usual mouthpiece, Tony Kennedy, clear all that up.  As of Tuesday, June 1, 2010 (mark it down and don't whine about it from behind bars if you forget), suspects are the beneficiaries of the Supreme Scaley Court's clarification of Miranda, called Berghuis v. Thompkins, which shall be referred to forever, here, as Thompkins v. Miranda.

Scaley, generous as ever, has actually enlarged upon Constitutional rights.  From now on, a suspect gets a terrific new right:  You have the right to waive the right to remain silent by neglecting to remain absolutely silent for however long you can be interrogated.

You are surely pondering this.  Does Scaley mean that if you say, "yes" to the wrong question in day two of UN-approved waterboarding, you will have to no longer remain silent?  Is that fair to the cops, who will now be getting the endless ear-beatings, not Scaley?

In the case of the soon-to-be-convicted Mr. Thompkins, he had a really good chance to waive his rights, by saying, "Of course, sirs, I waive all of my sacred rights", but he did not take that chance.  He also had a good chance to speak up, proudly and say, "I invoke my right to remain silent..."  

The Thompkins v. Miranda case, simply stated for any non-lawyers out there, stands for this proposition:  If you do not remain silent, you waive your right to remain silent.  Easy?

In a way, Thompkins, the perp, didn't miss out on much.  Under Scaley's Thompkins v. Miranda Rule, Mr. Thompkins would have waived his right to remain silent by uttering the single word "I".

What if the bewildered suspect says, "I invoke my right to counsel, mister officer"? There goes the right to remain silent.  And what good's a counsel then?

Damn, Scaley, are you sure about this?  Isn't everything even more confusing?

Well, this blog is here mostly to help Scaley out of predicaments like this one.  As of tomorrow, this blog may very well mail out to every potential criminal suspect a deck of cards that state "I choose to invoke" such-and-such sacred Constitutional right.  The cards will likely have colorful graphics; maybe a caricature of Scaley in a wig indicating, with one finger, the right being invoked; and, by the way, a fast acting poison that robs one of the power of speech upon a single touch.  For at least three hours.

Thes cards might be written in English and whatever other languages Google Translate can handle, except Spanish, since this blog supports Arizona so much.