With Friends Like These You’d Crib Out in Court Too

Is Will Smith up for a new role? Men in Red Ties? What a spectacle, eh? Big Orange in court for a crime that got his fixer 3 years. His fixer was convicted for the same damned thing Big is in court for. Big and the fixer were in it together. There’s a little bit of a backstory here. Seems Big Orange is such a sensitive human being that he needs a mental health specialist, like his niece. I think she must have written a prescription for Big. If it wasn’t her, it must have been someone else close to him, like his mommy. I can’t pinpoint exactly who, but someone must have prescribed sleep therapy to counteract tense events in his life, like being nearly 80. I think the prescription must say something like–if an event is overly intense the best way to keep the heart from exploding from pride or something is to just zone out. Sleep is good for the inventive mind. Tesla, Franklin, Bell, Ford, Einstein and now Big Orange all endorse naps as a rejuvenating and creative activity which costs very little. Well, usually, I don’t know how much it costs to crib out in court.

This story isn’t about Big Orange’s trial and tribulations, though. In a way it is, but only because it is the setting for the damnedest story I’ve ever seen or heard tell of. This all revolves around one of the conditions the trial judge set for Big. The judge is pretty serious about his conditions and this one wasn’t really all that hard. Big just had to keep his big mouth shut and leave people doing their civic duty alone. That condition makes sense because, as we all know, Big Orange doesn’t have the ability to just shut the fuck up. It’s his most formidable strength and, at the exact same time, and all too often in the exact same breath, it’s his most common self-inflicted wound. I think it would be fair to say that the judge’s one condition was well-deserved. Big trash talks anyone who he thinks has the goods on him about anything. He never denies his perversions for long, though he never admits them, either. He always brags about his misdeeds even if he is not aware of his braggadocious self-owns. If he were still around, Freud would have a field day with Big Orange.

There’s been a lot of coverage on the News about how hypocritical it was for the stars of that three-ring wonder of the modern world, The Freedom Circus, to all show up to give emotional support for poor Big Orange. The trial is in New York where they came to read their individually-scripted laments about the unfairness of the law and the corruption of the Judge’s daughter working in New York City, making big bank for her significant role in advertising that Big does not cotton to. That the girl has a right to do whatever she damn well pleases doesn’t play well in the script Big wrote. So, he directed his stooges to play their parts in a dress rehearsal for some momentous event they say they can foresee in some hazy future where Big manages to evade jail.

Which brings me to what bothers me the most about that bunch of loud-mouthed drama queens. They actually held a press conference declaring the trial and the reason for the trial and even the law that requires a trial, be held to determine if Big is guilty of acting in accordance with the law or if he did not act in accordance with the law. What difference will Congresspeople out of the federal government make in a New York State legal proceeding? No difference at all. No matter what Big says, no one in the Federal government has any avenue to access any part of any state trial anywhere in the United States.

Besides these particular Congresspeople were playing hooky from a committee hearing they were supposed to be holding. They were also supposed to vote to punish the Attorney General but were, I guess, protesting something that is the law but that they don’t like. Just like the Black Lives Matter protesters do. But the Black Lives Matter folks should be drawn and quartered for protesting and the Congress delegation to the trial should be praised as proponents of anarchy. Or some other big word they don’t understand but use regularly.

The recent performance of the entire cast of the cosplayed Men-in-Red-Ties art piece held on the state courthouse steps there in the Big Apple was solely for the benefit and personal viewing pleasure of Big Orange himself. Even so, I have not found a way to bring myself to forgive or forget the arrogance that display required of the participants. To sit in the court during anyone’s trial while attempting to influence influencers is comedy gold, but only because of the smug cluelessness on full display by the very act of wearing Big Orange uniforms and sitting in the courtroom as close to the hero as possible. It kind of reeks of what we’ll charitably call the stupidity of political careers collapsing of their own exaggerated weight. No one can hold something that bulky and heavy aloft for more than short bursts of time. Not even in pretend time.

It isn’t that the Freedom Circus delegation doesn’t know they have no business attending that trial. They know very well they have no business there. Well, I best not say that about Bobo. She may not have known they were in New York. The way she talked, it was clear she did not live in New York. It wasn’t the accent, either. It was the lack of street smarts. Who the fuck is that disrespectful on the streets of New York? I mean, you can tell if your New York taxi driver is polite or not by the condition of the hood of his taxi. If it’s all dented from being pounded it’s because people react to hearing the taxi’s horn as they try to cross in front of it at an intersection where the light just changed. Those hard fisted blows are often accompanied by a famous Gotham endearment, “Hey! Asshole! How about a little respect herah!”

You know that all over the city people were complaining about Bobo being Bobo with, “Jesus, does that girl got a mouth on her or what!” Not to be outdone by a woman, Red Tied Matty G got world-class side eyes from anyone who ever had even an inkling of common sense. The worst part of this story is these two diplomatic luminaries represent the highlight of Big Orange’s day in court. Well, that’s all there is in this story. But MagaMike did put in an appearance and deserves his own moment in the sun, as it were.

It would be ever-so-delicious if the judge were to call a reporter to the stand who claims he actually saw Big Orange editing the laments that the Men-in-Red-Ties have read as though in their own voice. Until these events took place, I was not aware that Big Orange was really an octopus. He has to be one because he has his hands up so many asses while he’s throwing his voice to each of the MIRT’s that Jeff Dunham and Achmed better be careful they’re not upstaged or something.

The reason all of that is significant is because the judge has already shown a great deal of patience with Big Orange acting like a 12-year-old attending two weeks of summer camp where he is showing the world why his parents sent his ass to summer camp to begin with. That kid represents a growing experience for camp counselors who are barely past that behavior themselves. Courts and judges are not known for reflecting a summer camp-like flexibility when conditions set by the court are ignored or tested by unrepentant defendants. Courts, like street crossers in New York City, pretty much always demand respect.

From a karmic point of view, I could see how smooth it would be for Big to go to spend a few nights in the pokey and his Red Tied Bootlickers each receive at least a thousand dollar fine, unless the judge can find them all in contempt of court, which would be even better. Wouldn’t that be a lovely expression of karma? It really would be lovely, even though I don’t think it can ever take place. However, there is a special punishment reserved for Men-in-Red-Ties. They are damned to continue in the public eye. Why is that a punishment? Because they are every bit as naked as Queen Cersei on her walk back home and just as foolish for ignoring the power everyday people have when they finally lose patience with arrogance masquerading as actual power. Wearing matching red ties will not give anyone magic powers. Your cape goes on your back if you want to have magic powers. How arrogant to wear your cape on your chest. Everyone knows you ain’t ever going to fly like that.

This blog was first published on May 24, 2024.

The Wright’s View is a blog written by John Worthington and is presented by The Business of Forging Agreement.

For additional content in a daily email format, I invite you to subscribe to “The Wright’s View” on Substack. I write about the folly of the current political goings-on from outside of what the media presents in the hope of giving anyone who reads my blogs another vantage point to see beyond the minutiae of the everyday.