Scaley Has Jon-Bob Spank Terror-Huggers

Antonin Scaley's black-robed possee dealt terrorist-huggers everywhere a major setback.

Ruling 6 good to 3 not-invited-next-time, the Court ruled that if you give a terrorist group advice or training, you are just as bad as they are.

Scaley's nominal Chief Justice, John Roberts ("Jon-Bob" to friends of this blog), was assigned to write down Scaleys' thoughts on the matter.

Justice Stephen Breyer ("the Ice Man", for obvious reasons), was allowed to disagree in public.  The Ice Man read his dissent aloud so FOX Spews would not lose the text completely.

TBO sent some minions to agree with Scaley's view, although it is not clear where he could find any.  Through them, TBO claimed that "material support", under the Be Unkind To Terrorists statute, meant pretty much anything.  TBO now has more power over Americans that Dick Cheney or The Alice of the Tea Party of Wonderland, Sarah Palin.

According to Jon-Bob, here's it works.  TBO scans the globe (Mars starts next term.  And ha ha).  He then points a finger at a bunch of Sihks, say, singing acapella to their favorite candidate on a Charleston, SC street corner.  That is enough to designate them as a terrorist group, even if TBO was just indicating that he liked the hue of the lead singer's raghe... turban.

Now that, the group is a designated terrorist group, they are off limits for any training or advice, because anything that helps the terrorists, ups their morale, makes them happy--or even less miserable--or better informed is now a waterboarding offence.

Examples Jo-Bob probably meant would be:

Showing a terrorist how to inflate his new Nike's on the subway;

Teaching a terrorist how to surrender;

Giving any New York cabbie directions to Yankee Stadium;

Paying any New York cabbie;

Adding terrorists to your nightly prayer list;

Putting a soaking wet towel on your head in 99 degree heat;

Suggesting, just in passing, that a terrorist consider making peace with infidels;

Broadcasting Sean Hannity (no, wait, it said "better informed");

Showing stills of any Megan Fox scene in which she wears a boostier in "Jonus Hex";

Showing stills of Megan and Brian Austin Green with BAG's face photoshopped out and replaced with that or your favorite blogger;

Explaining a Scaley Court decision;

Offering a terrorist five tiny pretzels on a three-hour USAirways flight that will connect through Philadelphia to anywhere useful;

Feel free to add ideas in comments below.  Do not worry, though, no terrorists read this blog, because it seems to be a big damned secret.

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.

What's in a Name III

What to do with Supreme Court Associate Justice Antonin Scalia?

I mean, as in, he needs a nickname for this blog.  We can't call him Tony, since that is already taken by the corporate-free-speech guy on the Court.  And, really, Ninny doesn't seem right for such a brilliant Originalist.

So I have come up with Scaley.  Get it, as in the scale of justice, there being only the one on the right these days.

But then there is Scaly, which appears to be a funny-looking synonym for Scaley.  I know.  I looked them both up on the Internet.  Which to use?  I could have a popular vote on the choice, but the Justice would probably block the count.  So, I'll go with Scaley.

I don't know what Scaley's friends call him, because he and I are not close. Who knows what his Court colleagues call him, especially behind closed chamber doors,  That's not the point, of course, because he needs a public nickname for my blog so that my ADHD readers won't have to read more than three syllables.  And I'll bet his nickname will be coming up a lot.

As recently as last week, Scaley was in the news guaranteeing that no state, like the Palin-Free-State of Alaska could sue to secede from the Union.  Most of you probably don't care about a union or know what secession is, but Scaley noted Generals Lee and Grant resolved that problem judiciously and for all time at Appomattox Court House in April of 1865. 

While a top judge like Scaley would not necessarily have to endorse a decision at a country courthouse, Appomattox Court House is not a courthouse and is not in the town of Appomattox.  Not that Scaley said it was either of those things.  His point was that the secessionists lost their argument and their almost-country fair and bloody square.

So, if Scaley is in the middle of an issue from 1865, he will be newsworthy, even blogworthy, today or next week and, thus, must be nicknamed.  I'm sure he won't object to the moniker.  It is well known that the Justice has a great sense of humor and can really take a joke.  He and his pals can even take one and make it... well, pretty important for eight years.