Wednesday, August 30, 2006

The American justice system -
A scotsman saves the day

I received my punishment yesterday for becoming a U.S. citizen. The nice warm friendly summons by the Superior Court to serve as a juror in the criminal courts. My assistant Debbie's reaction was "aww, poor baby". She always gets out of jury service because she talks incessantly and gives you a headache which can be mistaken for intelligence. She said that I would probably be excused becaue my IQ is above the level of an orangutang (not sure if that was a compliment). Which leads me to believe that justice is not being served in this countries if amoebas and slightly more evolved organisms are deciding the fate of the innocent-until-proven guilty.

So given the above, maybe I will do my bit for society and bring a sense of scottish justice to the judicial system. Then I thought, what about my friends? How would they interact with their fellow jurors and reach a decision on someone's fate? This is probably how:

Carl would let everybody off. They were probably having a bad day. After that he would probably invite them over to Fuel for a few drinks and then ignore them.

Miles would find everyone guilty on all counts and if he had is way he would send them all to life imprisonment even if it was just a parking ticket. He would probably also be knocking-back Martinis in the juror room and pass out during deliberations.

Steve would always issue a verdict of "maybe". That is unless the accused shows any signs of possibly being connected to the republican conspiracy in which case he would demand that all the jurors votes be manually signed in triplicate and counted 50 times by independent third parties to ensure an accurate outcome.

For some reason I cannot post any more pictures on this blog (I'm sure Bush and Rumsfeld have something to do with it), so I'll spare the rest of my friends from the TRUTH, because you can't handle the truth.

God I'm bored. Goodbye.


Blogger Miles said...

Fair assumptions, but how would Andrew fare? Well, my guess below...

Andrew would sit deliberately for approximately five minutes before he would have to storm off the panel, demanding a recess, so he could put a leg against an outside wall and smoke a fag or two (or 3).

Returning, he'd sit, hear something that would tick him off and storm off again, this time in an apocalyptic rage. He wouldn't stop just outside this time. No, he would continue to the nearest bar that served Heinekin on the rocks and would not return until the next day, wondering what all the fuss was about.

And the next day? Repeat above.

2:39 PM  

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