Always Bet On Black

"He's Here. The Bat-Man." - Scarecrow, Batman Begins.

Let me start by saying that I am a huge Tim Burton fan. If Tim directed it, I more than likely saw it (or it's on my list, like Sleepy Hollow). As a result, I believe that the his Batman (circa 1989) is one of the best superhero films ever. When I attended Batman Begins last night, though, I wanted to keep an open mind.

I'm glad I did.

Batman Begins is an excellent film. Director Christopher Nolan (who also manned the helm for Memento) expands upon the origins of the Dark Knight's beginnings, and his transformation from brooding orphan to . . . well, brooding crime fighter. Christian Bale is a better Batman than Michael Keaton (God, that hurt to say), but, in my opinion, Cillian Murphy (28 Days Later) stole the film. Murphy's matter-of-fact portrayal as Scarecrow left me wanting more. Hell, even Michael Caine (whose work I usually hate) was very good!

Look, I know no one gives a rat's ass about what some movie geek with a blog thinks about a film, so go out and see it yourself. You'll thank me later.

Vacation: Week One

Okay, so it seems that when you are the father of two boys (ages four and one, pictured here), "your" vacation suddenly becomes "their" vacation. In a span of seven days, I enjoyed leisurely (?) trips to the Camden Aquarium, The Franklin Institute, and my wife's friend's home in Fleetwood, PA (about a ninety minute ride - one way). The Philadelphia Zoo, and Storybook Land were also on the itinerary, but the oppressive heat, humidity, and thundershowers postponed them.

I know what you're thinking: those trips don't add up to a full week. Correct-amundo! Yesterday was Wifey Day - a day set aside for a romantic stroll to our local Saturn dealer! The missus purchased a 2005 Saturn Relay (read: minivan) for the low, low price of . . . alot.

Meanwhile, my master plan of sitting on by ass and alternately drinking Guinness Draught and Rogue Dead Guy Ale has been put on the back burner. Hell, the only real thing I wanted to do these two weeks was catch up on my DVD viewing. I still have more than a few in my collection I haven't seen. (I know that sounds asinine, but what can I tell you?) With the first week a distant memory, I have but seven days to watch the following flicks:

• The Boondock Saints
• Braveheart (never saw it all-the-way-through)
• Hellboy
• Kill Bill, Volume 2
• King Arthur (Keira Knightley . . . Schwing!)
• Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels
• Sleepy Hollow
• Underworld (Kate Beckinsale in a leather catsuit = Meow!)

Do the math kids, that's just over one-a-day. I have no shot. Oh well, at least I'm getting out to see Batman Begins tonight. It's a start.

Beating A Dead Horse-Face

And you wonder why it took him so long to release his records:

"During last year's presidential campaign, John F. Kerry was the candidate often portrayed as intellectual and complex, while George W. Bush was the populist who mangled his sentences. But newly released records show that Bush and Kerry had a virtually identical grade average at Yale University four decades ago."

These quotes, courtesy of The Boston Globe shed an interesting light on the former Democratic Presidential nominee. (Hey, what happened in that election? Did he win? Tee hee hee!)

"The transcript shows that Kerry's freshman-year average was 71. He scored a 61 in geology, a 63 and 68 in two history classes, and a 69 in political science. His top score was a 79, in another political science course. Another of his strongest efforts, a 77, came in French class."

French class was one of his strongest subjects? Go figure.

Why would I bother posting about a three week old story concerning some loser? Well, there are two reasons: First, I never even heard of the story until Rush Limbaugh mentioned it today. Maybe the media didn't think it was as newsworthy as President Bush's National Guard records. Second, Horse-Face wrote an Op-Ed piece in which he gives G.W. advice on what to say in tonight's address. This dunce is giving another so-called "dunce" advice. Unreal.

Hey, John, when you become President, you can tell the nation whatever you like. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

"Gip-per! Gip-per! Gip-per!"

The finale of The Discovery Channel's search for "The Greatest American" was aired last night, and, to be honest, I was surprised at the winner. Ronald Reagan was voted "The Greatest American" last night, edging out Abraham Lincoln by 0.44 percent of the 2.4 million votes cast. (That must have really pissed off Matt Lauer!)

For me, it was a surprise, but a pleasant one nonetheless. Reagan was one of this country's greatest Presidents (as was TR, but I'm not getting into that again), and his passing is still fresh in many minds. Maybe that's what put him over the top. Or, maybe it was his astounding poll numbers throughout his eight-year term, his adept healing of a troubled nation, and his never-ending battle against the Soviet Bloc. Remember those guys? Whatever happened to them??

Congratulations, Mr. President. You are The Greatest American.

The ACLU? They're Crackheads

You know, when I heard this story on the Glenn Beck radio show this morning, I thought I was still half-asleep. After slapping myself in the face a couple of times, I realized this was no joke: the ACLU is now defending polygamy as a "fundamental right."

ACLU Prez (and resident idiot) Nadine Strossen stated her organization defends "the freedom of choice for mature, consenting individuals," making it "the guardian of liberty ... defend[ing] the fundamental rights of all people."

Whew! Thank God (or whatever tree the ACLU is currently worshipping), I thought I was gonna have to pack up the family and drive all the way to Utah to celebrate my own special view of marriage. Now that the ACLU lawyers are on the case, I may just be able to interview perspective new wives in the privacy of my own home. These men and women truly are American Heroes!

Have You Seen This Man?

If you're a Jeff Gordon fan like I am, keep looking towards the back. Keep looking. Keep looking. Yeah, there he is with the scrubs like Kyle Petty and Dave Blaney. The four-time NASCAR champ has been driving like an Asian octogenarian as of late - a fact I noticed while watching the Dodge/Save Mart 350 this afternoon. (There's four hours of my life I'll never get back.)

Even the die-hard fans can't ignore Gordon's recent pitiful showings. Dave Rodman of NASCAR.com put it rather succinctly (emphasis on suck):

"It was the fifth time in the last six races that Gordon has finished worse than 30th, and it knocked him to 14th in the standings -- his worst position this season."

Fourteenth. That's Jeremy Freakin' Mayfield territory! And with the Pepsi 400 at Daytona next week, the schedule doesn't get any easier.

Pick it up, Pretty Boy, or I'm gonna get medieval on your ass!

Almost Perfect

A few weeks ago, The Discovery Channel initiated their search for "The Greatest American." The public was asked to vote among 100 nominees, including such "Great Americans" as Oprah, Mel Gibson, Ellen DeGeneres, and MICHAEL JACKSON!!! Wow.

Thankfully, the voting public got it right . . . almost. The Top Five include such outstanding Americans as Benjamin Franklin, Martin Luther King, Jr., Abraham Lincoln, Ronald Reagan, and George Washington. Not a bad list. I hate to argue with such fine nominations, especially since there's no sign of Arnold Schwarzenegger or Tom Cruise (although Cruise did serve his country in Top Gun), but I was hoping to see whom I believe was the greatest President of the 20th Century: Theodore Roosevelt.

Teddy was no Oprah, but take a gander at his accomplishments, and see if he deserves a Top Five position:

• Climbed the Matterhorn at the age of 19. (Damn!)
• Civil Service Commissioner.
• NYC Police Commissioner.
• Assistant Secretary of the Navy.
• Colonel, Rough Riders, Spanish-American War (TR volunteered for duty.)
• Congressional Medal of Honor recipient (Battle of San Juan Hill).
• Governor of New York State.
• Vice-President of the United States (running mate with William McKinley).
• Two-term President of the United States (1901-1908) after the assassination of McKinley.
• "Sticks it to The Man" with Trust-Busting of major conglomerate corporations.
• Rabid conservationist (for the hippies).
• Responsible for the creation of the Panama Canal.
• Father of American Naval Power, helped create the dreadnought battleships of "The Great White Fleet."

Of course, I am biased, but if Theodore Roosevelt doesn't belong in the Top Five, he should at least be #5-A. I'll probably watch the finale tomorrow night (9pm, EDT), and I'll be pulling for GW . . . but my heart will be with TR.

Mmm . . . New Car Smell!

Well, in a matter of moments, the wife and I are going car shopping. (Hopefully, we will avoid someone resembling the man pictured.) Our 1999 Saturn SL2 sedan just isn't big enough for our two boys and their 58,000 toys, games, provisions, and every other damned thing we have to take with us on a road trip. The missus is interested in either an SUV (How Republican!) or a Mini-van (Leave your male genitalia at the door.) Of course, it's her choice, and (like the rest of married life) I am simply along for the ride . . . and some occasional heavy lifting.

Our first stops will be Nissan and Honda. Just kidding! I didn't want any ranting e-mails from the CUG. True to form, our first stop will be Saturn. (I am currently driving a 1999 Saturn SC1.) She likes the VUE, so we'll take a gander, and see what develops.

R.I.P. Officer Paris Williams

PHILADELPHIA-June 21, 2005. A Philadelphia police officer who was hurt during protests in Philadelphia has died from his injury. Protestors are demonstrating against a major biotech conference in Center City. Sources tell Action News that some of the radical organizations were threatening violence today.

The protest was at 12th and Arch streets in Philadelphia. Officer Paris Williams, 52, was kicked by at least one of the protestors after falling to the ground. He was an 18-year veteran of the police force and a father of 2.

The incident that lead to Williams death happened just outside the Pennsylvania convention center at about 12:45pm.

Officer Williams, had water thrown at him by one of these scumbags. The scumbag fled like the coward he is, and Officer Williams gave pursuit. When Williams caught him, the scumbag kicked the officer in the chest. Williams claimed he was okay, and continued his tour of duty. A little while later, Williams was in another scuffle with these "peaceful"protestors, when he suffered a fatal heart attack.

No one can tell me that the original offender didn't contribute to the death of Officer Williams.

In any other city, the criminals involved in Officer Williams' murder would be charged accordingly. According to the PA Crimes Code, the scumbag who kicked Williams should be charged with Second Degree Murder. Unfortunately for police officers like myself, this is Philadelphia. Uber-corrupt Mayor John Street's equally inept D.A. Lynne Abraham has decided to charge the offenders with Aggravated Assault - which will surely plea down to a misdemeanor.

I friggin' hate this town.

Vacation: All I Ever Wanted!

As I write this I am in full vacation mode. Two weeks (sixteen days, actually) of blissful relaxation. No radio calls. No fine citizens calling me a fat pig because I gave them a ticket. No worries whatsoever. I will, however, do my best to blog every day, and hopefully, you will keep reading.

Below-Average Joe

Delaware Senator Joseph Biden (D-Del.) has announced his plans to run for President in 2008. Biden said, in his own words, that Americans should "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country." He also declared Sunday, June 19th, 2005 (the day of his announcement) was "A date which will live in infamy." When asked if he considers himself a legitimate challenger to The Hill-debeast, Biden remarked: "Bully!"

Members of the Republican National Committee were too busy laughing for comment.

Filthy-delphia

Let's give a shout out to The Great Unwashed.

The Biotechnology Industry Organization (BIO) 2005 Convention is currently underway in Philadelphia, and today appears to be D-Day for protestors, "activists," and any other unemployed, long-hair, tree-hugging, hippie scumbags who have nothing better to do than travel the country in their Ed Begley-inspired electric cars, searching for an opportunity to be brutally beaten by the police. (Holy run-on sentence, Batman!)

BIO president Jim Greenwood explained that his industry is not the bad guy here:

"This new, dynamic industry has already developed unique therapies for cancer, multiple sclerosis, arthritis, heart attacks, and strokes – just to name a few."

Those bastards!

Greenwood's explanation is ignored by professional protestors, who believe that groups such as BIO are polluting the earth and responsible for all of the five-legged humans that have become so commonplace. A group called Bio-Democracy has scheduled rallies, marches, and other wastes of time for both the morning and evening rush hours in Center City; a move sure to bring out the road rage in the city's thousands of working stiffs. The Philadelphia Daily News stated today will be the "longest traffic jam of the year." And, of course, Bio-Democracy refused to obtain police permits. Spokes-toad Hart Feuer (Seig Heil!) stated that "permits are a violation of our free-speech rights." Yeah, so is a nightstick across the throat, Hart.

So, give us your stinky, your dirty, your wretched, and all those yearning to not shave their armpits. Philadelphia welcomes you!

"Come With Me If You Want To Live"

I doubt that the premise from The Terminator will ever come to fruition. Why? Because computers (and especially e-mail servers) suck rocks. I was working in the Operations Room last night and decided to write today's post on the computer there. I cut and pasted it into an e-mail, which I forwarded home. My shift was done at 6am, and I was online by 6:30. I checked my e-mail for the post, and . . . nuthin'. The damned e-mail wasn't there. I have been checking every five minutes or so since then with negative results. (It's a wonder I haven't put a 9mm slug in my monitor by now.)

I am sure that the second I post this drivel, my e-mail will magically appear. Why? Because God hates me, that's why. I have to work tonight - the last night before two delicious weeks of vacation - so I'm going to bed. I'll check the e-mail again when I wake up at 5pm. Hopefully, the post will be there.

Otherwise, I'm gonna lose it!

We Got Him!

Sort of.

File this non-story under the heading of "Idiotic Statements by Government Officials." In an interview for TIME Magazine, CIA Director Porter Goss (Porter?) says he has an idea where Osama bin Laden is hiding. Lookee, lookee:

Asked whether that meant he knew where bin Laden is, Goss responded: "I have an excellent idea where he is. What's the next question?"

Wow. Case closed. The CIA knows where bin Laden is. I know I'll sleep better tonight. Of course, Goss never gives even the tiniest hint as to the al-Qaeda leader's whereabouts, but I truly believe him. I mean, I knew the identity of Deep Throat all along. I just didn't tell anyone. Come to think of it, I knew all about 9-11 beforehand, too, but I forgot to mention it. While we're at it, I knew who killed Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman! It was O.J. What? Everyone knew that? Damn.

Hey, thanks, Mr. Goss! By the way, I think you're doing an excellent job. Asshat.

Bring On The Juggys!

For those of you not familiar with my work - although SYLG is a new blog, I also had a critically-acclaimed success with "Middie Back!" - I am a red-blooded American geek. Like most geeks, I love movies, especially if they involve comic books and/or superheroes. For the most part I have been satisfied with the recent crop of superhero flicks - Daredevil being the exception; I refuse to see anything starring Ben Affleck - and really enjoyed both Spider-Man films, as well as the Blade trilogy.

None of these projects, however, can hold a candle to X-Men and X2. The mere thought of seeing a live-action Wolverine made me giddy as a schoolgirl, and director Bryan Singer didn't let me down. Singer decided to forego X-Men 3, in order to man the helm of Superman Returns (with the delicious casting of Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor), but I was floored when I heard that uber-villain Juggernaut (pictured above) would be cast in the sequel.

Now that I was drooling like Homer Simpson, I decided to check out IMDb to see who would fill the 7-foot-plus Goliath's boots. I clicked on the X-Men 3 link, looked up the cast, and . . . passed out. When I regained consciousness, I realized that I was not dreaming, and (to my delight) English actor Vinnie Jones won the role!

Okay. You folks have no idea who Vinnie Jones is, do you? Well, you may have seen him in Gone in Sixty Seconds as "The Sphinx," or in EuroTrip as "Mad Maynard," but those who enjoy a good, albeit lesser-known film, you would recognize him as "Bullet Tooth Tony" in Mr. Madonna, er, Guy Ritchie's masterpiece, Snatch.

Why am I getting all dizzy over the casting of a little known Brit? See Snatch. Today. Right now. I'll send you my copy. Snatch is a great film with a lot of great performances, but Jones' character steals the movie. If Jones can pull off Juggernaut, in my book, he will be a god!

Oh, by the way, I also noticed that Kelsey Grammer, of all people, has been cast to play Dr. Hank McCoy, aka Beast. I'm not so sure of this choice, but I'll reserve judgment for the time being.

Uncle Skank

Sorry about the lateness of today's post, but I've been busier than Paris Hilton on shore leave. Well, that, and the fact that my idea inbox is empty. I'll give it another go after dinner, but only if I have something mildly entertaining to write.

The Whole System Is Outta Order!

Jerry Orbach, I found your replacement on Law and Order.

Before I get any nasty-grams from my friend Bill, I'm posting so late because I was in court all morning. (Bill likes to read SYLG during his lunch hour. Most folks like to read it in the bathroom. The printed version comes in handy after a number two.) Today is my day off, so court is about as welcome as Teresa Heinz Kerry is . . . well . . . anywhere. Sometimes, however, court is chock full of comedy, and today was no exception.

I was in Courtroom 501, which is mainly for traffic violation appeals. It is almost worth it just to hear the lame excuses people toss out for why they don't have a valid driver's license. One of the funniest today was, "I had been in prison when my license elapsed, your honor, so I should be exempt." Of course, it is considered unprofessional for police officers to laugh out loud at defendants, but today's shining star was above and beyond the boundaries of lunacy.

She was a woman in her mid-fifties, dressed as a schoolmarm, and carrying about a ream of paper in her homemade case file. She had originally been found guilty of her traffic violations (I'm not sure how many she received, but it appeared to be a lot), but was here today to appeal . . . acting as her own attorney! Picture if you will a middle-aged version of Damon Wayan's homeless character on In Living Color; the one who used all the big words, but had no clue as to their meaning. This woman had obviously watched a few too many episodes of NYPD Blue.

When her case was called, she immediately approached the bench - just to be turned away by the bailiff. (We started ginning despite of ourselves.) Immediately after that, she wanted to file her homemade "Motion for Dismissal." (At this, some officers laughed out loud before catching themselves.) Finally, the woman said that if the judge dismisses her appeal, she would like it to be dismissed "without prejudice." (Now, everyone in the courtroom is doubled over in laughter, including me.) When the judge - who was much more patient than I ever would have been - finally explained that the woman was not a lawyer, but would get a new date for a trial, the woman relented, but asked the bailiff to send her new subpoena to her P.O. Box, because she didn't want the court to know her home address!

All this trouble for a traffic ticket. This country is doomed.

"I'd like fifteen chicken fa-jy-tas, please!"

The author (pictured above) before his venture into Atkins territory.

Like most police officers, I am a fat bastard. I hate to perpetuate the stereotype, but it's true. My dimensions would make Rosie O'Donnell proud of her appearance: 5'8", 220 pounds. (This is not my weight on Venus, by the way!) The reasons for my Jabba-like rise to Ted Kennedy-ville are complicated, but I have a sneaking suspicion that fried cheese and Guinness Stout played an integral role. Of course, working the steady midnight to eight shift doesn't help, either.

Hopefully, my size 38 jeans will soon go the way of parachute pants - And, yes, before you ask, I had a few pair of those in high school! - because this week, I started the Atkins diet. It sounds great - eat all the bacon, beef, and liquid lard you can absorb, as long as you forego the bread, and you'll take the pounds off! I'd been really skeptical, especially since I lost thirty pounds while on Weight Watchers a few years ago, but many of the cops in my district have had success on Atkins, so I figured I'd give it a go. I'll keep you informed.

Wish me luck, I'm gonna need it.

Cry Freedom!

Despite what I posted yesterday, I never really thought Michael Jackson would be convicted. It was more wishful thinking on my part, since I would have pulled every law enforcement string I had to see him moonwalking in D Block. Unfortunately, the prosecution's case was flimsy at best, and District Attorney Tom Sneddon had to deal with a California jury (remember O.J.?).

I often joke that the reason many high-profile cases go awry is because the folks who are weighing the evidence weren't smart enough to avoid jury duty. In the Simpson case, for example, the explanation of the DNA evidence - which alone should have brought about a conviction, SINCE HIS BLOOD WAS FOUND ALL OVER THE CRIME SCENE!!! - completely lost the jury. While the lab tech was describing the odds of the blood being from another person, the jury was humming the Golden Grahams jingle in their head. "Oh, those Golden Grahams . . . " I am not about to crucify this particular jury, but just because the prosecution didn't prove the fire doesn't mean there isn't smoke coming from the Neverland Ranch.

Do I think Jackson molested this child? Absolutely. Do I think he should have been convicted? Not with the evidence presented, no.

I feel bad for the victim in this case. No matter what you think of the child's mother - if nothing else, she should have never been called to the stand - her entire family had to suffer the stress of a long trial, only to find out the jury didn't believe their story. How do you explain this to the victim? If the accusations are true, this entire family just lost faith in the criminal justice system.

And that is an all-too-common malady in this country today.

Warning Shots

I realize that this is a terrible way for a police officer to think, but will the Michael Jackson jury just get it over with and find him guilty?

I'm sorry, but Natalee Holloway is dead.

NASCAR's ridiculous gear ratio rule changes ruined yesterday's Pocono 500. Thirteen lousy lead changes, and a scrub like Carl Edwards winding up in Victory Lane? Please.

The Phillies were 12-1 on their current homestand - and won yesterday's game, 6-2, with yours truly in attendance. How long until they collapse?

For some inane reason, tree-hugging-hippie Bob Geldolf decided to let Philadelphia host a segment of July's Live 8 concert. Good move, Bob. Funnel millions of dollars into the coffers of the most corrupt mayor in America - John F. Street.

Phantom Menace

It ain't the NHL, but it ain't bad.

On Friday night, the Philadelphia Phantoms of the American Hockey League (AHL) won the Calder Cup Championship by sweeping the Chicago Wolves in four games. The Wolves, who were the odds-on favorite to win the title, were completely dismantled by the purple and black during the series, and especially in Game Four, where the Phantoms won, 5-2. Goaltender Antero Nittymaki (a nice Irish kid, right?) was stellar between the pipes, and was rewarded as MVP of the playoffs. The title, is the second in the team's eight-year history, and the first since 1998.

In the midst of a devastating NHL lockout (be careful what you wish for, NBA), it's nice to see that there is finally some good hockey news in this town. Now, if only my spell check would accept "Nittymaki" . . .

If You Can't Take The Heat . . .

Even God Himself can't believe how hot it is today in Philadelphia.

Like an idiot, I spent my day off mowing the lawn in the oppressive heat, then followed it up by playing lacrosse with my four-year old son, Kyle - who promptly burst into flames after five minutes. So, forgive me for this lame post, but my puny brain couldn't deal with the buckets of sweat I was generating - and I'm a fat guy who sweats in February!

Tomorrow, I will be attending the Phillies game with some cops in my district, so maybe I will be able to post good news on the MLB front. Although, we're talking about the Phils . . .

Lucas Finally Got It Right

In a move that will surely cost me my "Star Wars Geek" membership card, I finally saw Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith . . . three weeks late! Due to the horrors of shift work, most Philly cops get weekends off every three to four months. I am currently in the midst of one of these lucky breaks, but the timing has been unsatisfactory; the last thing I wanted to do was see the film during the opening weekend. I am a Star Wars Geek, but even I am not going to dress up in costume for a screening! Any-hoo, here are my thoughts.

As a fan of Quentin Tarantino, I have grown accustomed to his oft-annoying habit of screwing up a film's timeline. For example, in Kill Bill Volume 1, the first fight scene should actually take place at the end of the movie. It's like watching a film in a time warp, but it's Q's way. I accept it. The problem for a lot of Star Wars fans is that George Lucas filmed an entire trilogy out of order. Therefore, everyone who has seen the original trilogy knows what will happen at the end of Episode III. We all know that Anakin Skywalker will become Darth Vader, but the rub is in the details.

Thankfully, after dropping the ball in Episode II (I personally liked Episode I, but realize that I am in the minority), George Lucas fleshed out the details in Jedi-like fashion. As expected, the special effects and the fight scenes were top-notch, and Ewan McGregor once again proved himself the strongest presence on the screen. New character General Grievous (pictured above), was absolutely badass, and Samuel L. Jackson got his wish by "not dying like a bitch." The film was very dark in nature - much like Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back - and Natalie Portman and Hayden Christensen's dialogue led a lot to be desired. Overall, though, Episode III delivered, and Lucas tied up all loose ends.

A Star Wars Geek like myself couldn't ask for anything more.

"Kick His Ass, Sea Bass!"

Dennis Leary is doing backflips.

Why? Because his favorite hockey player/idol/love interest Cam Neely has been elected to the Hockey Hall of Fame. Neely, who played for the Boston Bruins for a decade, was chosen over such standouts as former Edmonton Oilers defenseman (my personal favorite) Kevin Lowe and forward Glenn Anderson. As much a grinding, physical forward as a scoring threat, Neely reached fifty goals in just forty-four games during the 1993-94 season - third-fastest in NHL history.

Of course, for those non-hockey fans, most of you will remember Neely from his fabulous performance as "Sea Bass" in "Dumb and Dumber."

Congratulations, Cam!

As If By Example . . .

Were there any Philadelphia judges reading my post this morning?

Almost immediately after I rip the Philadelphia court system (and deservedly so), I get kicked in the groin by them. I had a hearing in court this morning in reference to two pieces of detritus that assaulted me last April. The brother-sister tag team attacked me while I was trying to break up a bar fight. The sister (a real piece of, uh, work) punched me in the face and scratched my cheek - drawing blood - when I tried to separate her from the woman with whom she was battling.

As I was in the process of cuffing her, the brother tackled me from behind, knocking me to the ground, and began to punch me. As "Assist Officer" call was put out, and it took three officers to cuff each combatant - the sister was a "plus-size" woman. The siblings were arrested and charged with aggravated assault on a police officer, simple assault, resisting arrest, reckless endangerment, and conspiracy. Justice served, right?

Wrong.

During the preliminary hearing in April, the judge (Theresa Carr-Deni, who is rabidly anti-cop) threw out every charge except for the resisting arrest charge. Both defendants were held for trial, which occurred this morning in Center City - where I was (figuratively) assaulted again.

After wasting two hours of my day, the judge decided that he would give the defendants ARD, which is, in effect, a lame version of community service. No fine. No jail time. For assaulting a police officer. To add insult to my injury, the female defendant openly laughed as she exited the courtroom a free skank, er, woman.

Criminals of the world, take heed: you can assault a police officer in Philadelphia and get away with it. I think I'm going to be sick.

All That's Missing Are The Kangaroos

Did you ever wonder why you rarely see court proceedings during cop shows? It's because the viewers would start taking their own lives five minutes into the program. Why show Sonny Crockett and Ricardo Tubbs sitting in a cramped courtroom for hours when Michael Mann could have them shooting from their moving vehicle? Those who have suffered through jury duty know from experience that life imitates art.

Let me tell you how court works in the City of Brotherly Love. Brace yourselves.

Police personnel and average citizens are required to be in court by 9am. Of course, defendants and their weasel-like lawyers show up whenever they damn well please. This carelessness would usually annoy the judge on the bench, but since they don't show up in court until 11am or so, the bad guys get a pass. (Keep in mind that the victims who had to take the day off have now been sitting patiently in their seats for two hours for no good reason.) Finally, the judge with the God complex arrives with a flourish, and life can begin. The court crier calls the cases in order (the city averages forty to fifty cases per room per day) but don't get excited; even if you are case number one, the judges hear the cases involving private attorneys before anyone else's.

In an infuriating custom, after the list of cases is called, the judge almost always "takes a break." Because they need one after sitting in their own courtroom for an hour, right? It is about this time that civilians begin wrapping their heads in duct tape; lest they explode. The break usually occurs around 11:30am, which gives defendants two and a half hours to check in. Unfortunately, if they are not present by this time, many courts give them an extra hour or so to show up. The maddening part of this is that if a victim is two hours late, the judge will usually dismiss the case!

After the break has ended, the courts can finally get to the business at hand. It is now about noon, and most judges take an hour lunch at 1pm. Do the math. There is no way on God's green earth that forty cases will be addressed in sixty minutes. If you are one of the unlucky saps who still haven't been heard by lunchtime, let your babysitter know she's getting some overtime. It's gonna be a really long day!

So, there you have it, kids; the joke that is the Philadelphia Criminal Justice System. Citizens beware: become a crime victim at your own risk.

Crowe's Feat

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

NEW YORK (Reuters) - Actor Russell Crowe was charged with assault and criminal possession of a weapon on Monday after throwing a telephone at a hotel employee, police and prosecutors said.

Police said Crowe threw a telephone at the concierge, identified by police as a 28-year-old man, who was hit in the face and suffered minor lacerations. The concierge was taken to hospital and released after treatment.

Early reports that Crowe was screaming "Are you not entertained?" as he threw the phone were unconfirmed.

Ladies and gentlemen, Russell Crowe: wacko.

D-Day

May God bless and keep the brave soldiers who participated in this "Longest Day."

Back In The Saddle Again

See what happens? You can't take six months off without the whole world going to hell in a handbasket. After I pushed the red self-destruct button on my previous venture, "Middie Back!", Scott Peterson was found guilty (I think he did it, but he should have been acquitted on the flimsy evidence), Michael Jackson was put on trial (I think he's guilty, too, but will be acquitted thanks to flimsy evidence), and the Philadelphia Police Department still hasn't promoted Detectives (I'm still patiently waiting at #18 on the list)!

Well, I would love to say that I'm back by popular demand, but lying on the first post doesn't exactly set a good precedent with the readers. In fairness, my cousins Barb and Grant always say they enjoy my writing, and I appreciate it, but they blew it with me when they moved from Vancouver (home of the upcoming Winter Olympiad) to Florida. Just kidding! Although watching Olympic hockey in person would have been awesome.

Oh yeah, the NHL is still on lockout, but don't even get me started on that issue.

Thanks much for checking back, and I'll try not to screw up this blog.