JUDGE MEANT

5/25/2019

The standard black robe was chosen to invoke the respect and piety of the clerics. The white powdered wig was selected to portray a fair, and less aggressive, feminine mystique. The elevated bench was built so that these purveyors of justice can look down on their defendants, knowing that their life-altering decisions will gravitate downward and thus insulate them. As in all trades and careers, there are good people and then there are horrible ones. In the court of law, these interpreters (judges) must pass a bar exam, practice years of their craft, and, if motivated, are then appointed to a term set by law that may be for life. In most courts, they are protected by armed Bailiffs to ensure order amongst the attendees and to “protect the prick” in case the outcome is less than satisfactory for the one who is handed judgement. Facing everyday trials with people dragged into their courtrooms who proclaim innocence as the stolen goods fall out of their pockets, the Honorables fall victim to disillusionment and loss of patience. Telling defendants to shut up, giving draconian punishment to people who made minor mistakes, and releasing the raging guilty because they are somehow connected to a power player, judges become tainted, and their fairness fails. These loose cannons become actors in a farce and use their podiums to entertain the crowds that fill up their playhouses. Hammer banging, stern discipline rants, and constant threats of additional incarceration bounce off the walls as the theatrical performance ends in a 3-to-5-year sentence for the shoplifter. When the erratic emotions elevate to this intensity, drop the gallow trap doors underneath this black robed dictator and have him spill onto the floor at the feet of the accused. A change in position might bring back civility to a worn official who sees the evil spuriously sculpted in humans every day. If not, Joann Fabrics is always looking for burnt out people to restock the button aisles. 

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