The Swagger #4 (Sunday Wildcard Edition)

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I'm not a lawyer, but, I have had occasion to eat them for breakfast, lunch, or dinner a few times in my life—including kicking their ass in open court, pro se, in front of a judge. In fact, acting on my own, I have prevailed in every single case. Everything more serious than a small-claim here and there, I won, DIY style.

Alas, every case is different, so my past thousands of non-billable-hours experience with lawyers as part of the daily routine in a debt-workout company I founded says nothing about how correct I am in analyzing this particular case and the motion therein that's the subject of this post.

... First, though, a bit of brief housekeeping.

1. Yes, this is, once again, a new thing. First, I was going to do but one issue of The Swagger per week. 5 articles every Tuesday...2 for free, 3 for premium (1 Starbuck/mo). Then, last week I expanded that to 3 articles, twice per week, Tuesdays and Thursdays; each being comprised of 1 fee article, and 2 premium articles. Now, I'm adding a 3rd weekly publication—only 1 single article, substantive. Wildcard. It will be either free or premium, as the wind blows.

2. Seems people are quite curious about this new newsletter gig, so let me lay that out for you (yes, I got all the emails). It's BALLS, man. If any of you have any inkling to start a newsletter (this is a pure newsletter, distribution via email...though there is a web archive of all past emails), this is the platform on which to do it. I'm already at 10,000 subscribers just 2 weeks in.

Briefly, it has everything built in that the BIG-ASS-PLAYERS use (premium subscriptions, ads, referrals, affiliate, etc.). And it has a partner program so that should you be interested in starting a newsletter, just click that logo or this link, and should you do something with that idea and pay beehiiv through one of their service tiers, I'd receive 50% of what beehiiv earns off you in the 1st year. For example, I'm on the highest tier before going enterprise and negotiating a one-off deal. My level is $100 per month, and I'm covered for up to 100K subscribers. So, whoever's link I may have used when signing up will get $600 over my 1st year. Not bad for a referral link that's fire & forget.

I'm already in the black. In just 3 weeks; 1 of planning, and 2 of execution. That is, my 100 bucks per month is already covered through the various monetization schemes I mentioned, so I'm into, and sopping up the gravy from this point.

3. No, this isn't going to compromise the FreeTheAnimal blog. It's going to enhance it and help it build a more sound foundation of deep content with broad and not niche appeal. That's because I am the niche. Personally. I'm a walking, talking niche interest. Among the rare and endangered species, an autodidactic polymath.

Here's what's been published at FreeTheAnimal.com recently.

1. The 100% Every Time Heartburn Cure You Never Heard About

2. The Ultimate Sports Energy Drink That Doubles as Both Pre- and Post-Workout Meals

3. Human Action and Social/Cultural Interaction Distributed by IQ

4. Testosterone Replacement Therapy and Human Growth Hormone For Old Men

5. Anthony Colpo and Richard Nikoley — 1st Video from Pattaya, Thailand

6. Heartburn: The Acid Test: Big Pizza: 100% Pass

7. Public Introduction to Freedom vs. Freedom, Inc.

8. Groking IQ Like You Never…

9. Grasp The Gravity of What AI Will Do To Your Life

10. Anthony Colpo and Richard Nikoley Talk Thailand and Lascivious Pattaya

11. Personal Update: On The Home Front

12. Stop Making Excuses And Get Insatiably Horny At Old Age, Men

That's in addition to and over the same time period (about 3 weeks) that I planned and executed on an all-new newsletter and published 4 of them (#0 - #3) with 16 articles, 8 of them free, 8 of them premium, and it's already slightly profitable with about 10,000 subscribers.

Now I ask you, who's the [restless and relentless] animal?

BUT HE CHARGES!!!

(you're goddamn right, I do)

... And even that's not all, folks. Tomorrow, expect to see a post, wherein, I solicit volunteers to test out my new and dare I say it, REVOLUTIONARY!!! full-body, high-frequency, all-encompassing gym workout program over a 5-week span to provide me with invaluable insight and feedback for finalizing the release product.

Nope, I'm not a personal trainer. I don't own a gym. I don't do online consulting. I call myself a bro only with my tongue firmly locked in cheek. And, of course, this is what makes this autodidactic polymath perfect for the task. I'm open to it all. I don't believe in One. True. Workout. Catechism. I owe nobody nuthin, and I have no thing and no one in the whole world at all to maintain allegiances, loyalty, and fealty to.

Comin up!

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Now, let's get back to the perfect decision from the bench: the one that pisses off both sides!

WTF McAfee? You Just Managed to Piss Off Everybody

In the world of social and political antagonism, pissing off everyone, on both sides of divides, is for me the Holy Grail of activism.

What Really Happened (and everyone on both sides knows it)

Let's cut through the bullshit and get down to the nitty-gritty of this Georgia RICO case against former President Trump and his merry band of co-defendants. Back in 2020, the U.S. held a presidential election that was tighter than a jar lid sealed by the Hulk. Some states, crucial ones, mind you, showed irregularities that raised more eyebrows than a nudist at a church picnic. Trump and his cohorts, smelling something fishy, cried foul. They had their reasons, some of them solid, to believe there were dirty tricks at play. The big question—could these shenanigans have flipped the election results?—deserved a closer look. Yet, for reasons as murky as swamp water, that deep dive never happened.

Fast forward a few years, and enter stage left: Fani Willis and Nathan Wade. These two weren't just playing footsie under the prosecutorial table; they were full-on bedfellows, entangled in a not-so-secret affair. Their master plan? Slap Trump and his allies with racketeering charges, pinning them for trying to overturn the election results. The charges came thick and fast, though many got tossed recently. The juicy bit? Willis and Wade's bedroom antics weren't their only secret. Despite Wade's glaring lack of experience in handling such high-profile cases, he was hired as a special prosecutor, pocketing an exorbitant fee—a portion of which found its way back to Fani.

So, what's the skinny? Everyone and their dog knows the drill here. This isn't just a legal battle; it's a political soap opera, complete with illicit affairs, dubious qualifications, and a liberal sprinkling of weaponized political prosecution.

But, wrapping this up isn't as simple as saying, "Here's what happened, now slap on the handcuffs." The real kicker, why this whole circus doesn't just collapse under the weight of its absurdity, boils down to two things I'll spill later. Despite the clear-cut impropriety and a web of lies so dense it could trap a T-Rex, a motion to disqualify District Attorney Fani Willis hit a wall. Why? Well, that's the million-dollar question, isn't it?

In the end, this saga is less about the pursuit of justice and more about a political chess game played with real lives as pawns. It's a cautionary tale of how power, when mixed with personal vendettas, a disregard for ethics, and get 'em any way you can political activism, can turn the legal system into a weapon. And as this drama unfolds, we're all left wondering: In the quest to hold one man accountable, how many lines are we willing to cross?

What The Judge's Decision Was (and everyone hates it)

At the heart of this circus is a case that's as clear as mud, with motivations darker than a black hole and enough dirt to start a gardening business. Depending on which side of the political aisle you're standing on, the story either gets embellished into a tragedy worthy of Shakespeare or downplayed into something as benign as a kitten video. Yet, despite the partisan goggles, the core facts are glaringly obvious to all.

So, what did the judge decide amidst this dumpster fire? First off, he put on his legal blinders, focusing solely on the evidence presented to him. In essence, he said, 'Look, according to the letter of the law, I can't outright say there's a conflict of interest here that would send the DA packing.' However, he did acknowledge that the whole situation reeked of impropriety. In layman's terms, it stinks to high heaven.

Digging deeper, the judge hinted broadly at a cesspool of lies, stopping just shy of saying the DA was lying through her teeth. Yet, because the charge of perjury wasn't on his plate, he couldn't call her out on it. Instead, he pinpointed an 'appearance of a lot of bad shit.' His verdict? It's either the DA or her special prosecutor buddy—her supplier of kickbacks and lavish gifts—that has to hit the road.

"An odor of mendacity..." (she lied her substantially endowed buttocks off).

The ink hadn't even dried on the judge's decision before Nathan Wade handed in his resignation. It was swift and without fanfare, perhaps the only straightforward act in this entire saga.

They're going to take the rebuke, sit down, and STFU. This, of course, speaks volumes and permanently taints the case, should anything but dismissal or acquittal issue forth whenever when is.

In a nutshell, the judge's ruling is a bitter pill to swallow, leaving a taste in everyone's mouth that's a mix of cynicism and resignation. The decision essentially boils down to choosing the lesser of two evils, which is a bit like deciding whether you'd rather be kicked in the teeth or punched in the gut. Either way, it's going to hurt.

But The Law Is Narrow and Specific, Not Broad and Honestly Integrating of All Relevant Facts (and it's designed to be...and that's good and bad)

The law, in all its majestic complexity and frustratingly narrow vision, is not designed to cater to every whim and fancy of public opinion. When we talk about the legal system, especially during a trial, we're not engaging in a free-for-all gossip fest that you might find trending on Twitter or plastered over your Facebook feed. The law is a finicky beast, focusing on specifics and limiting its gaze to the charges at hand. It's not interested in your social media history or that unfortunate tweet you fired off a decade ago.

Now, this approach has its pros and cons. On the upside, it keeps the trial from turning into a circus. The focus is laser-sharp, honing in on the charges laid out by the prosecution. This means that the defense and prosecution can't just willy-nilly lead witnesses down rabbit holes that might be interesting, sure, but are ultimately irrelevant to the case. The aim here is to prevent the trial from spiraling into a chaotic mess where every aspect of someone's life is up for scrutiny, based on some ancient social media post.

However, the flip side of this is where things get a bit thorny. By narrowing its vision, the law often fails to consider the broader picture of human complexity. We're all flawed beings, prone to making mistakes. Sometimes, there's more to the story than what the charges reveal. There might be evidence out there that paints a picture of someone not just as guilty, but as a veritable villain of Shakespearean proportions. Or conversely, it might show that, while they did stumble, their intentions weren't malicious. Maybe they were ignorant of the law, or it was a simple case of carelessness, and their past actions suggest this is out of character for them.

In essence, while the law's narrow focus is designed to keep trials fair and focused, it also means it doesn't always tell the full human story. It doesn't integrate all the messy, complicated facts of life that could influence a judge's or jury's perception. For better or worse, the law is not a broad, all-encompassing net that captures every nuance of human behavior and intent. It's more like a spear, targeting specific points and often missing the wider context surrounding those points.

So, the next time you find yourself armchair-quarterbacking a judge's decision, remember: the law isn't blind to the broader truths of humanity because it enjoys being obtuse. It's designed that way, both for our protection and to our occasional collective chagrin. It's a system that, for all its flaws, aims to administer justice in a world where facts are king, and speculation belongs to the realm of social media, not the courtroom.

Interlude: What is Moral and Immoral

Let's talk about something that makes most people uncomfortable: the concept of morality. What do we mean when we talk about what's moral or immoral? Here's the kicker—most of us have had the concept of morality indoctrinated into us since we were kids, usually wrapped up in a religious bow or its secular, godless cousin. Essentially, it's a set of rules that have been hammered into human brains over millennia, dictating what's considered right and wrong in society. And for a long time, these moral codes were pretty much the law of the land. There are still places around the globe where that's the case, where legal codes are two peas in a pod with religious doctrines. But let's focus on the Western world for a sec, where there's this thing called the separation of church and state, meaning your personal moral compass and the law of the land can point in slightly different directions.

What is Moral and Immoral?

Now, here's where I need to drop a truth bomb, because the next bit hinges on us being on the same page about what's considered moral and what's not. Given that everyone's got their own bespoke version of morality, is there anything we can all agree on? Well, I've been mulling over this for more than 30 years, and it boils down to the basics: if something is objectively good for the human organism, it's moral. If it's objectively bad, then it's immoral. Sounds simple, right? But here's where the fun starts because what's "good" or "bad" for us can turn into a never-ending debate. Sure, we can all agree that swan diving off a 10-story building or chugging a glass of arsenic-laced water falls squarely in the "bad for you" category. No brainer, right?

And then there's the stuff that's obviously good, like drinking clean water, munching on nutritious food, having a roof over your head, and helping each other out. Giving someone a leg up by providing a job or a means to earn a living? That's golden. And then... there's the gray area, the murky middle ground where things aren't so clear-cut. That's where the real debates lie, and frankly, those debates are likely to go on until the end of time. It's about inching closer to some semblance of agreement, iteration by iteration.

So, while we can't all sing "Kumbaya" around the campfire agreeing on every single aspect of morality, we can at least acknowledge that some things are inherently good or bad for us humans. And maybe, just maybe, we can start to navigate the gray areas with a bit more understanding and a little less finger-wagging.

The Law Is Not Synonymous With Morality (it produces outcomes that are moral, amoral, and immoral alike)

The law and morality are not one and the same. Sure, sometimes the law churns out decisions that seem morally upright, but just as often, it spits out verdicts that are morally bankrupt or just plain indifferent. Why? Because people from a small town to an entire nation can't even agree on which deity to worship on Sundays, let alone what constitutes moral behavior. Given this Tower of Babel situation with religions and moral codes, it's no wonder laws have to be scrubbed clean of religious undertones. So, everyone, regardless of whether they're kneeling in a church, temple, mosque, or not at all, is subject to the same set of rules.

Now, I get why some folks wrinkle their noses at this setup. It's like opting for the least rotten apple in the barrel—not exactly a ringing endorsement. Democracy often gets slapped with the same "least-worst option" label. And while I'm not entirely sold on that grim view, I can't help but sympathize. The result? A legal system that, depending on who you are or what spiritual or gender group you align with, can either be a boon, a bane, or something you're utterly indifferent about. One person's moral victory can be another's ethical defeat, and then there's always someone in the corner who couldn't give a rat's ass either way.

But here's where the fairy tale ends and the nightmare begins. In an ideal world, laws would be dispensed with the impartiality of a vending machine—insert problem, receive justice. Yet, what we're witnessing more and more is a system hijacked by the highest bidder. Thanks to a cocktail of special interests, lobbying, corporate overreach, and good old-fashioned greed, justice isn't just blind; it's been bought. This isn't some exotic fable from a banana republic; it's the reality at our doorstep, staring us in the face.

What we're dealing with is a legal system increasingly resembling an auction house, where outcomes are sold to the highest bidder, decked out in the finery of influence, power, and cold, hard cash. So, next time you hear about the law delivering justice, remember: it might just be delivering it to those who've paid for the privilege.

The Two Purposes of the Law: A Civilizing Force or a Cynical Tool?

On the surface, The Law seems to adhere to common sense and reason. At first glance, anyone with a shred of logic can nod along, acknowledging that, despite its imperfections, the legal system generally nudges society in the right direction. Sure, it's riddled with exceptions—some outrageously so—but broadly speaking, things tend to work out. Or so the civilizing view would have us believe.

However, venture into the cynical depths of this discussion, and you'll uncover a more sinister perspective. Allow me to introduce you to a series of insights that might sound like the brainstorm of a paranoid conspiracy theorist, but rest assured, it's grounded in a grim reality. Picture this: a cabal of sharp, cunning elites—parasites in human form—gather around, scheming to engineer a system that serves their interests. No, this isn't a plot lifted from a dystopian novel; it's an illustration of how certain psychopathic individuals, who are more common in society than you'd expect, operate.

These psychopaths, masters of deception, differ from their sociopath cousins. While a sociopath stumbles through life, leaving chaos in their wake without a second thought, a psychopath orchestrates destruction with precision, reveling in the turmoil and profiting from it. How do they manage such a feat? By exploiting a system designed to mask their true nature.

Now, I could wax lyrical about the myriad ways these individuals manipulate the system to their advantage—but let's just say there are 114 identified tactics, each more insidious than the last. This hierarchical maze of manipulation isn't just theoretical; it's a playbook for the morally bankrupt.

This brings us squarely to our discussion on the law and its complex relationship with morality. The law, as conceived by those with legal expertise, ostensibly aims to foster outcomes that are just and moral. Yet, it's alarmingly easy to argue this point, despite glaring evidence of the law inflicting harm under the guise of 'unintended consequences' or 'collateral damage.' The truth is, the legal profession is deeply entrenched in this system, with lawyers operating on every side of the fence. They navigate a labyrinth of laws, amendments, and case law with ease, ensuring that, regardless of the law's civilizing pretensions, its primary function often serves to empower those 'in the know'—the parasites and psychopaths among us.

These individuals thrive on conflict, manufacturing problems and disputes where none need exist, all to sustain their dubious livelihoods off society's resulting friction. It's a grim reality that certain societal issues remain perennially 'unsolved,' not due to a lack of change in collective hearts and minds, but because the antagonism is far too lucrative.

That's why I argue that any movement characterized as 'anti-' anything is, paradoxically, pro-that very thing. It's a bizarre twist, but it makes sense when you realize that staying in the 'anti-' business is a profitable venture in itself. In sum, while the law may present itself as a beacon of civilization and order, beneath its veneer lies a mechanism finely tuned to serve the interests of those who know how to play the game—all at the expense of genuine societal progress.

That'll wrap it for this Sunday Wildcard, that was free for all, this time. Do consider popping for the 1 Starbuck per month (or buy 10, get 2 free) so you never have to concern yourself with what's free and what's premium. I've set the price as low as I possibly can for that big triple shot of peace of mind.

And in the meantime, make sure to get on Dr. Mike Eades’ The Arrow, my favorite in the Newslettersphere, and a good friend. It’s also domiciled here on beehiiv.