Magpie Watch II

Continuing the Sullivan Magpie Watch, an astute commenter notes that Jonah Goldberg has observed another instance:

One non-trivial point that seems to have been left out of the commentary about Andrew’s argument--and not mentioned explicitly in the argument itself--is its debt to Michael Oakeshott. Sullivan is a disciple of Oakeshott and wrote his dissertation on him at Harvard. Hence it should come as no surprise that Sullivan’s division of conservatives into two camps--Conservatives of Faith and Conservatives of Doubt--tracks quite closely Oakeshott’s The Politics of Faith & the Politics of Skepticism. Why Andrew didn’t mention this explicitly I don’t know.

About the Jury

Thanks to all Galley Slaves readers who sent in their comments and emails about their own jury experiences as well as a few other thoughts. To answer one reader: The question of where I work never came up. There were questions during the voir dire about our experience, if any, with homelessness and even if we did have something to do with it, the question posed was "Would you find yourself unable to be fair?" One of my colleagues at TWS was almost selected for the Travelgate jury, despite his having worked at the American Spectator, which broke a number of stories on it. Again, in his situation, the question posed was, Could you still be fair? Few people under oath and in front of a judge can say "No, I will be unfair." (A common exception is the victim of a violent crime unable to serve in a criminal case.)

With regard to my jury, I may very well have been the only conservative. During deliberations, several jurors brought up their own participation in protests, such as with the SNCC (Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee) in the 1960s. One congressional staffer called himself "a bleeding heart liberal." And yet despite these leanings and despite a case involving activists trying to feed the homeless over Thanksgiving, these jurors put emotion aside and focused strictly on the law at hand. We had one holdout and it was unclear exactly what stopped him from deciding the defendants were guilty. After convincing him in one instance, he would find some other element that bothered him. And on it went for about two hours. One woman thought that adding pressure would help (it didn't--she was clearly the Jack Ward of the group). In the end, the "bleeding heart liberal" and a professor from a local university (who was a SNCC member) approached the holdout directly, asking him, "What is it you are having a problem with?" and "Here is why I think they are guilty." Carefully and conscientiously, both men, without seeming to add pressure, clarified their positions and after a few moments of silence, the holdout changed his mind. (We then asked him if he was sure he believed this and was not feeling any pressure. He said no.)

To the very end, Mr. Bleeding Heart Liberal felt terrible for voting guilty even though he knew it was the right thing to do. ("These kids just don't seem to take the law seriously," he added.) One of the elders in the group who protested in the 60s said, "They knew what they were getting into... There's a right way and a wrong way to protest." But perhaps the professor's sentiments were best: "When we protested in the 60s, we knew we could get arrested. We knew we were going to break the law. These [defendants] knew what would happen and now they claim to be ignorant of the law? And now they want to represent themselves in court because they think they know the law?" They couldn't have it both ways, he thought.

No word on the sentencing, though one lawyer tells me at a minimum, there will be a fine. At maximum, they could face jail time. (I invite any Galley Slaves readers with law degreees to share his or her thoughts on possible sentencing.) Ten days in the slammer might not sound like much, but ten days in the DC County Jail could feel like an eternity.

Incidentally, one of the alternates on my jury called to ask about the verdict. He too is a self-described liberal and a former lawyer in the Clinton Justice Department. When I told him about our deliberations, he replied, "I would have thought it would have taken you guys ten minutes to convict them. This was a clear-cut case!"

If you say you don't want this, then you're either lying, or a damned fool and a scruffy-looking nerf herder.

Antiwar.com

Tom Joscelyn's Venona Project points us to the site Antiwar.com, whose newest contributer is . . .

Michael Scheuer!

Help Me Tiger, You're My Only Hope

Galley Reader E.H. sends along a link to the The Darth Side, a blog run by Lord Vader himself. You ask for samples:

Have I mentioned before that I am surrounded by idiots? Let me cut to chase and just tell you up front: the rebels got away. All of them. General Veers, bless his heart, must have destroyed two dozen armed speeders and and an entire line of infantry -- but those were just ants. We failed to take Mothma, Organa, Rieekan, Skywalker or even the traiterous fish Ackbar.

More, you say?

At any rate, the attack on the hidden rebel base began and I had General Veers mount a ground assault. Once his walkers had destroyed the rebel generator I made planetfall and personally supervised our incursion into the base. I must say that the stormtroopers' new heavy weather gear makes them look very cool. Hats off to Palpatine. (Most people don't know this but His Excellency designs all of our outerwear personally; he has a real flair for geometry, and a great sense of line.)

Here's where I need your help. Soon, the forces of Lucasfilm will destroy the Darth Side. Perhaps they are on their way even as we speak.

But there is hope. I hear talk that the new Mac OS, Tiger, has a feature that allows you to download entire sites. Surely one of you has gotten Tiger already. You know what to do.

I was Martin Balsam

Last Thanksgiving, a homeless activist group known as May Day DC entered the Randall Homeless Shelter, south of the Capitol, to provide food and other necessities to those who were staying there. The next day, DC Protective Services and the property manager informed the activists that Randall was closed and that they needed to vacate the premises immediately. But the activists refused to leave and went to the rooftop, hanging signs demanding the goverment reopen the shelter. Media arrived and more officers and then a fire engine. When the engine ladder reached the roof, one of the activists handcuffed herself to it. In the end, the six activists were arrested and all charged with unlawful entry. This was the case my fellow jurors and I were handed.

We deliberated for a day and a half and ultimately found the defendants guilty. Why? There was enough circumstantial and direct evidence pointing to their knowledge that the Randall shelter was closed and that they were intending to protest it: The main door could only be opened from the inside, most of the windows and other entry ways were welded shut, and one had to edge his way in through a fence. One witness said one of the defendants told her she wanted to "reopen the shelter" and there was, of course, a poster that also read "reopen the shelter." This suggests the defendants knew the shelter was closed (otherwise why protest to reopen that which you think is open?).

A second element of unlawful entry is the refusal to leave once told one is in a restricted area. The defendants claim they could not hear the police or property manager on a bullhorn because they were on the roof (one story up and a second story behind it). The defendants say it was windy. But a homeless man also on the roof said he heard the police on the ground order him down lest he be arrested--and this man was half-deaf. When the deputy chief of police asked "Who is in charge?" another defendant replied, "We're all in charge." Police later said some of the defendants jokingly said things like, "Do you hear anyone?" One defendant admits to his fear of heights yet is seen in a photo sitting on the edge of the building, dangling his feet. More damning was another defendant's closing argument, in which she said, Haven't you been in a conversation with someone and another group of people are talking in the distance but you don't know what they're saying because you don't choose to listen?

Don't choose to listen?

Finally, this afternoon at around 12:40 p.m., we came to agreement on how to find all six defendants. Guilty. And guilty on the first element of knowingly entering a restricted area--there wasn't even any need to argue about the second element. And while we were all in agreement, I still found the verdict hard to deliver--because I would literally be delivering the verdict. Without my knowledge, the rest of the jury voted for me to be their foreman. And so, in front of the court, I told the judge (one of the nicest judges you will ever meet) that the jury found the defendants guilty. He asked me six times and each time I rendered that verdict with little emotion. It is a strange thing to do, handing down a verdict (let alone six times).

We don't know what the sentencing will be like, but all of the jurors felt that strictly examining this case and determining the defendants innocence or guilt, we had done the right thing.

It does make you think of that terrific movie Twelve Angry Men and where you fit within that cast. Are you the Jack Ward, eager just to get the hell out and go to the baseball game? Or are you Lee Cobb, bringing your personal baggage into the jury room? (Martin Balsam, one of my favorite actors, played the foreman.)

Jobs for Day

Kathy, the Cake Eating Editrix, has tagged me with a meme, the idea of which is to pick five professions from a list and say what you would do in them. My vanity knows no bounds and I'm never going to be tapped for the Proust Questionaire, so why not give it a whirl. Readers who are more clever than I am are invited to post their own answers:

If I could be an athlete. . . I'd lead the Sixers to the NBA Finals by providing Answer the silky-smooth, turnover-free, defensive-minded point guard he's never had. In the NBA Finals we would, of course, lose to the Lakers. Just because this is a fantasy doesn't mean that I get to ignore immutable laws of nature.

If I could be a writer. . . I'd be David Grann. Or Andy Ferguson. Either would suffice.

If I could be a scientist. . . I'd prove the existence of enough dimensions to support String Theory.

If I could be a librarian. . . Giles. Natch.

If I could be a professor. . . I'd teach a course on biochemistry in a manner that's actually engaging. (Easier than it sounds.) I'd begin each semester by announcing that everyone was going to get A's and that people not interested in the actual material needn't bother showing up. Then, at the end of the semester, I'd fail the grade-grubbers who'd been cutting. You can only pull that trick once, but boy, would it be worth it.

Here's the complete list to choose from:
If I could be a scientist...
If I could be a farmer...
If I could be a musician...
If I could be a doctor...
If I could be a painter...
If I could be a gardener...
If I could be a missionary...
If I could be a chef...
If I could be an architect...
If I could be a linguist...
If I could be a psychologist...
If I could be a librarian...
If I could be an athlete...
If I could be a lawyer...
If I could be an innkeeper...
If I could be a professor...
If I could be a writer...
If I could be a backup dancer...
If I could be a llama-rider...
If I could be a bonnie pirate...
If I could be a midget stripper...
If I could be a proctologist...

I pass the meme on to the Law Jedi and Erasmus.

Unleashed

Also, if you haven't read it, Tom Donnelly's piece on Chinese nationalism is pretty great.

Glenn Reynolds Takes a Cheap Shot at Life

Buoyed by the successful killing of Terri Schiavo, Glenn Reynolds carried this little note this morning:

IT'S NOT LIKE THERE'S A WAR ON, or anything.

The link takes you to a post on the Corner, where Kathryn Lopez noted the passing of the Child Interstate Abortion Notification Act in the House.

Galley Friend C.L. writes in:

All of which makes me wonder if Glenn would be willing to trash talk Martin Luther King, Jr. After all, why should he have bothered with civil rights or basic matters of justice? It wasn't like there was a war on, or anything.

Good point.

Update, 12:00 p.m.: Reader AK adds:

Reynolds is right. There's a war on. We shouldn't spend our time worrying about other matters, like transhumanism, gay marriage, the Mazda RX-8, campus photoblogging, the Nikon BJ6900LMNOP, our brother's bands, and space exploration.

Magpie Watch

Blogging has been light lately, what with my time being taken up by real writing assignments, being sick, and spooning. I'd apologize, but that would suggest that having Galley Slaves content in your life matters to you--and you and I both know that it doesn't. We are not children; this farce does not become us.

Anyway, Mickey Kaus catches Andrew Sullivan in a compromising "Magpie" situation, where Kaus wrote something and Sullivan parroted it, as if it were his own thoughts, on TV. I would remind Kaus and readers that this isn't the first time.

In February, Sullivan wrote a long piece about iPods that was clearly cribbed, in conceit, if not in execution, from Christine Rosen's long essay on the subject in The New Atlantis. Sullivan gave Rosen not even a dollop of credit in passing.

None of this is plagiarism, exactly. And Sullivan isn't violating the letter of any journalistic law. But it is the sort of thing that tends to catch up with you eventually. Don't be surprised if Sullivan eventually gets caught out for his magpieing.

The jury has now entered the deliberation phase. Meaning that now I am in the thick of it. And sadly, that is all I can say about it until a verdict is rendered.

But thanks for everyone's input on this post as well as on the previous post regarding my addiction to Civilization. Glad to know I am not alone.

And yes, I can see how conspiracists will take this Casual as even more evidence that the neocons are carefully planning their takeover of, well, civilization. You see it all starts with building temples...

For TWS subscribers, I have recently admitted to my addiction to the game Civilization in this week's issue.

Jury Duty

Those of you who have the honor of residing in the District of Columbia know that every two years, like clockwork, your jury summons arrives in your mailbox. And those of you who have heeded that summons also know there is a good chance you will end up serving on a jury trial--due to a dwindling pool. So it came as no surprise this morning when four judges needed potential jurors, myself among them, and one of the judges needed at least 40 individuals. And sure enough, I have been chosen. We're told that serving on a jury is something you should do once in your life. This will be my second trial. After speaking to other jurors who have lived in the District for some time, I am expecting to serve on juries every other year for as long as I live here. Not to mention grand juries and appeals and whatever else they'll throw at me.

But rest assured, when the verdict is in, I'll be happy to share the details of this criminal trial with our readers.

So you didn't think the last post was bad enough?

Galley Friend B.W. sends this link ton an eBay auction. On offer: a life-size X-Wing fighter.

From Galley Brother B.J.: Star Wars Arcade Record Attempt:

Star Wars Arcade Record Attempt

Posted By Mark on April 23, 2005

25 year old Brandon Erickson of Portland, Oregon will attempt what few have achieved - a non-stop marathon play of the original Star Wars Arcade video game. From noon May 16th to the midnight screening of Episode III on May 18th, he hopes to break a 22 year old record standing since Return of the Jedi in 1983:

Brandon, who is “the world's premiere classic Star Wars competitor” according to videogame record keepers Twin Galaxies, says beating the 300 million point score is his most ambitious attempt yet. "The challenge is maintaining focus over such a long period of time. Letting go for even 30 seconds means ‘game over.’ There is very little room for letting my concentration flag."

With newer Star Wars games available, why play the first one? “It's a way to celebrate the original films, and the games of that era,” he says. “Aside from that, it's a heck of a lot of fun. It's hard to top playing Luke Skywalker as he blows up the Death Star.”

Brandon's dedication and endurance will mirror that of Star Wars fans standing in lines at movie theaters worldwide. "I feel a sense of solidarity and camaraderie," he says. “May the Force be with them. Hopefully someone will save me a seat!”

Says the Galley Brother: "At least he picked the best game."

Benedict and Europe

In a fabulous piece Joseph Bottum wonders if Benedict XVI might be the last European pope:

After nearly three centuries of enlightened disdain for religion, Europe is about as dechristianized as it's likely to get; everyone who's going to leave the
Church already has, and still there are millions of believers scattered across the continent--to say nothing of the billion or so who don't happen to live a train ride away from Rome. In all likelihood, the European Union and the national governments will soon cave in and grant their Muslim immigrants the religious exemptions those governments have consistently refused to grant Catholics. And that will prove what the Vatican claimed all the way back in its struggles with the French Revolution: The European form of Enlightenment secularism and laïcité was never some purely philosophical stand on the necessary political separation of church and state; it always began and ended with anti-Catholicism.

It still does. As the refusal to mention Christianity in the historical preface to the new constitution of the European Union proves, Catholics in Western Europe are going to have to look out for themselves. They're only a remnant, but they're still a large one, and to them Benedict XVI can continue carrying the message of the Church--even though they live on a continent where the Italian conservative Rocco Buttiglione was not allowed to become a European commissioner because, it was argued, his Catholicism was incompatible with the office, and where influential French figures protested loudly when France's president dared to attend John Paul II's funeral.

Amazing piece. It should be your first read this weekend.

With regard to Nats mascot Screech, kudos to Galley reader "Patrick" who proves the name Screech is fitting since he'll be "Dustin' the Diamond." As for "That Dude from Philly," props as well for the reference to Tiffani-Amber Thiessen, though I'd much rather see Jessie Spano. (And whatever happened to Lark Voorhies?) This brings me to "Duane," who laments our mutual knowledge of SBTB. There is nothing to lament, Duane. That show was a celebration of all that is good and wholesome in America.

On the other hand, I recently came across an episode of Happy Days. It was but a fleeting moment (probably on TV Land), but it was clearly one of the decrepit episodes sometime in the 50th or 60th season, ca. 1984. How could I tell? The show is supposed to take place in the 1950s and early 1960s, but for some reason Erin Moran is sporting a perm. What were they thinking?

The Return of Ewing?

The Associated Press recently reported that Pat Ewing Jr., son of Georgetown legend Patrick Ewing, has decided to transfer from Indiana University to Georgetown. Other press reports say this has yet to be confirmed by GU officials, but most believe the deal is all but sealed. If so, the Hoyas will acquire a rather sizable forward in Ewing Jr., who is 6-foot-8 and 215 pounds. The only problem at the moment are his stats: As a Hoosier, Ewing only started 5 games, averaging 4 points and 3.8 rebounds. (In addition, he would have to sit out the next season.) But if Brandon Bowman (mistakenly) decides to go pro--he has already announced his intention to enter the NBA Draft--we will need all the help we can get. (Bowman will not be retaining an agent for the draft, however, which means he can still opt out at the last minute after testing the waters.)

Something I thought that went unnoticed during the infamous Dateline special on Michael Jackson from a few years ago was the passing reference to child actor Macauley Culkin and his brother having slept with Michael Jackson in the singer's bedroom at the Neverland Ranch. Hadn't anyone tried to follow this up with an interview with Culkin, now 24?

The actor has now agreed to testify in the Jackson trial, insisting that despite a guard claiming to have witnessed some inappropriate behavior on the part of Michael, nothing unseemly took place when the boys were, well, home alone.

Nothing unseemly, that is, except a sleepover with a grown man.

Uncle Grambo, Sixers Talk

Over at whatevs, Uncle Grambo has crossed a line of civility:

If your Uncle Grambo had any say in papal affairs, I would've cast my ballot for Darko Milicic. Hey Hot-Lanta, how'd it feel getting lit up for 16 points, five rebounds, three blocks and two assists last nizz by the #2 pick in the 2003 draft? Yodel atcha, Darvin Ham.

That's just low.

But I hope Larry "What Can You Do for Me?" Brown tries running Darkicic at the Sixers this week. The Ig Dog will have something nice for him.

On an unrelated note, thanks to Grambo for this link to the funniest celebrity blogging since the Michael Bay Blog. I know, you don't believe that anything could ever compare to Dating Fez, right? Well go read the Orel Hershiser and make your own judgments.