Mr. Wonderful is at it again. As you’ve undoubtedly heard, the
chief judge in the trial of Saddam Hussein has had enough and
resigned from the case.
Mr. Wonderful is at it again.
As you’ve undoubtedly heard, the chief judge in the trial of Saddam Hussein has had enough and resigned from the case.
The former judge’s deputy (who is, as we speak, madly purchasing timeshares in Florida) has been appointed to take his place.
I immediately see the problem here and have a solution for the chief prosecutor because – let’s face it, people – trial justices are going to be dropping like flies. And I don’t mean from the death threats.
Just look at this man, Saddam Hussein. He is in serious need of an attitude adjustment.
Now that his antics have caused the resignation of his chief justice, who’s to say this won’t become a long, tedious pattern? I think we’ve all about had it with courtroom TV and “trials of the century” – so named because that’s approximately how long they take to conclude.
In the interest of expediency and moving this trial along, I propose a judicial “Dream Team” consisting of my friends Arlene, Jan and Rhoda (whose names I’ve changed to protect the guilty). I vote that they immediately pack their bags so we can dispatch them to Iraq and get this show on the road.
These girls are WAY qualified to deal with the likes of Saddam. We, er…THEY are of a “certain age,” have given birth multiple times, raised teenage sons and daughters and now deal on a daily basis with retired husbands.
With resumes like this, a few days in a courtroom with Saddam would be a piece of cake.
The trial would probably go something like this:
Day One: Belligerent defendant is led into courtroom by armed guards.
Chief Justice Arlene: “EXCUSE ME, MISTER.” (Arlene tends to talk in all “caps.”) “Did I just see you take a swing at your guard? Is that any way to treat others? What would your MOTHER say? I expect you to keep those hands to YOURSELF from now on. If you think I’m kidding, Buster, pull that stunt again and I’ll fix your wagon GOOD. Now, walk right back outside and come in again. We’ll just keep doing it over until you can get it RIGHT. I don’t care if it takes you ALL DAY.”
Day Two: Defendant enters courtroom keeping his hands to himself.
Chief Justice Jan: “Oh, for the love of God – did you SLEEP in that outfit? Just look at you – you look like something the cat dragged in. How do you expect others to respect you if you don’t respect yourself? March right back to your cell and iron that shirt, shine your shoes, comb your hair, trim that god-awful beard and don’t come back until you look decent. And wipe that smirk off your face. No dessert for you tonight.”
Day Three: Well-groomed defendant enters courtroom.
Chief Justice Rhoda: “I have the headache from hell this morning. There will be NO talking today. I don’t want to hear ONE word out of you. Understand?
Not one single word. This will be a No Talking Day. Do you hear me? Whoa – did you think I wouldn’t see you rolling those eyes? Don’t get smart with ME, Mister!”
Defendant: “But…”
Chief Justice Rhoda: “NO TALKING!!!”
So there you have it, Iraqi court of law officials.
After a few days with my judicial Dream Team, Saddam could be tried before a panel of Girl Scouts and remain meek as a lamb.
And we could all get back to reruns of Desperate Housewives.
Just thought you’d like to know.
