1432 The Physics of Law

The words in the title are not out of order. Lawyers are among the leading physicists in America.  They take atomic and subatomic particles, rearrange them and turn lead into gold.

Eat your hearts out, alchemists.

Here’s what happens.

“A” is murdered.  “B” is suspected, arrested and charged.  Then the lawyers get to work.

You know how these cases go.  The defense makes a monster of someone who may have been the killer. Man into monster alchemy.

The defense admits “B” is not a saint, but is good to his children or his mother or was almost an Eagle Scout or worked in the soup kitchen and therefore couldn’t possibly have committed murder.

The prosecution will produce a fingerprint.  More magic.  The defense will say it’s only a 70% match.  The magic of diminished science.

The prosecution will use security cam video and the accused will suddenly appear at the crime scene.

The defense will say the videos have been altered.

This magic show will continue until half the jurors believe one side or the other has turned lead into gold.

Like modern day physicists, modern day lawyers work in the world of atomic and subatomic particles.  

Instead of cyclotrons and colliders, they use human powered wind machines, themselves.

Members of the jury are the peer reviewers academics depend on for reputation and confirmation.  Except the jury doesn’t have the credentials of a scholarly journal so they have to go on belief, the most volatile and unstable element on the periodic table.

Maybe the trial judge dozes off for ten seconds every once in awhile or is caught texting while the alchemists are on stage.  Grounds for appeal if “B” is convicted?

After a not guilty verdict, the defense alchemist passes out business cards.  “Hey! Let Whiplash Willie turn your lead rump into gold, too! Call 1800-4 Magic2.

At his sentencing, “B” will invoke the national anthem of the convicted, telling judge Snoozy: “I’m not a bad person.”

Yeah, probably, you are.  Not-bad-persons don’t commit murder.

Okay, alchemists, line up those protons and neutrons.  There’s always room for the wind accelerator at the appeals court.  

Shrapnel:

--Speaking of magic, the NYPD has made thousands of arrests and tickets disappear.  But they’ll soon tire of it.  So don’t try going 90 on 92nd street.

--Turning potential tickets into antimatter is the beat cops’ way of Charlie Hebdo-ing the mayor whom they believe is a key player in the Great Anti Police Conspiracy.  He isn’t.  He’s just taken too many public foot in mouth lessons from Biden or Bush.

--Cop wannabe George Zimmerman has been arrested again, this time for aggravated assault.  Police say he flung a wine bottle at his girlfriend in Seminole County, Florida.  Possibly after draining it mouthward.

Grapeshot:

-Question for Chris Christie: did you think you looked good in that orange sweater at the Cowboys game or are you just picking out a color for your minimum security jump suit.

-Question for the AP writer of this headline SEARCHERS HONE IN ON BLACK BOXES FROM AIRASIA PLANE: will you please learn the difference between “hone” and “home?”

-Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like hone.

I’m Wes Richards. My opinions are my own but you’re welcome to them. ®

Please address comments to wesrichards@gmail.com

© WJR 2015

1410 Johnny Chips in Gangland Amusement Park

(Moote Point NY) -- Johnny Chips from South Moote Pointe had a lot of Big Ideas, and none of them worked except one which really really worked and for a long time kept him so busy he didn’t have time to come up with anything new and failure- prone.

But today, Johnny’s going to Atlantic City to scout out the turf and see if maybe the one he had the other day can work, and make him even richer.

Of course, given the state of Atlantic City these days, Johnny may not get as far as he’d like, though you’d never know.

One of the Big Ideas that didn’t work was about Cholesterol.  He noticed that there were maybe five or six fast food joints on his street, all in a row, and every day the trucks from United Cholesterol and Cholesterol Partners and FatAmerica came along and delivered liquid cholesterol to each of the joints on the block. (Bet you didn’t know they added the stuff fresh to every bite!)

Johnny Chips figured he could centralize the operation, so he built a great big vat down the street, and strung a polyvinyl chloride pipe from one fast food joint to the next.  Then he offered all the places his pipe passed a discount if they would have their cholesterol piped in instead of trucked.

But there were a couple of things he didn’t count on.  First, everyone had contracts.  Second, the trucks were run by guys who carried .38s as part of their sales kits.

The worst of it was one morning when the polyvinyl chloride pipe sprung a leak all over Burger King’s newly- cut sod lawn, killed all the grass and spilled the cholesterol all over the place.  It was a terrible mess and Johnny was a long time cleaning it up.  Went through thousands of pounds of old newspapers and thousands of rolls of Quicker Picker Upper towels.

And he got really mad at the Home Depot guy who sold him the pipe and told him it would never leak.

So after it’s all cleaned up, Johnny brings the leaky part back to the guy at The Home Depot and says “Thought this stuff never leaked.”

    

And the Home Depot guy takes a look at the hole and says “This was made by a .38.”

The Next Big Idea was the one that worked.  Johnny rents a big empty lot in the neighborhood and he puts up an amusement park and he calls it “Gangland.”

The people come from all over to visit Gangland, where there’s free admission every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday from 3PM to closing.

You go to the Gangland Social Club, and that’s where you buy your tickets.  For five bucks, you get into a bumper car and try to elude the cops as you tool around the lot, passing stop signs, disobeying the speed limit, making left turns from right lanes, that sort of thing.

For ten, you get a stocking mask, a water pistol and the right to go stick up the fake 7-11.  That’s a popular one.  Everyone wants to stick up a 7-11.

Fifteen bucks gets you a marked deck at the Gangland Casino.  For $20 they bust you for prostitution or counterfeiting, your choice.

But the best one of all Murder Alley, where you can actually fake a murder, be brought to trial and get sentenced to the chair.  This one has a waiting list.

Gangland is so popular, and Johnny Chips gets so rich that he’s got to find another Big Idea, because he just can’t sit still.

So now he’s going to try to convince the gaming commission to let him set up the Big Board Casino in Atlantic City.

No regular games.  No roulette, no slots, no blackjack or craps or any of that stuff.  No. This joint will look like the floor of the New York Stock Exchange, except no real stocks.  You buy into fake companies and sell them, and just like in the real world, they go up and down.  Sometimes it’s fixed, sometimes not.

Customer could walk away with a bundle, get the thrill of the trade and still not really lose his shirt.

The Gaming Commission and the Governor probably won’t like it.

I’m Wes Richards. My opinions are my own but you’re welcome to them. ®

Please address comments to wesrichards@gmail.com

© WJR 2014