The verdict is in

Be forewarned, I am not a lawyer, and I am not about to start playing one on the Internet.

Like most everyone else in these culm-covered parts, I have been intently following the trial of former Luzerne County judge Mark Ciavarella. Be it newspaper, the Internet or talk radio; I’ve been tapping into it. The two local newspapers have been updating their sites at breakneck speeds. Kudos to those folks. The local bloggers, for the most part, have been regurgitating what the newspapers have had to offer. And WILK radio has been all over this fast-developing story. Literally, all over it.

Much unlike most people, I believe there is a simple solution to most of what are portrayed as the most vexing of issues. Most people seem to cloud issues by making them much more complicated than they need to be. And more often than not, completely by design.

Simplicity case in point: ‘Should we dam the Susquehanna River at Wilkes-Barre?’, which was submitted to me by Kayak Dude circa early 2001.

Ah, let’s see here, should we place a rubber condom of a dam in front of untreated raw sewage? “Ding,” goes the Simplicity Alarm, for which there is no patent. Nope, I reckon that recreating in and on raw sewage is something that appeals only to long-entrenched congressmen. Or, at least, one in particular.

But wait, they argued…it’s not that simple. Sure it is, sez me. It sure as all tarnation is simple, dammit. It’s as simple as envisioning yourself playing in a man-made 5-acre toilet, courtesy of Fedrule funding.

Case in point: You claim to have seen an unidentified flying object. You know, like in The Day The Earth Stood Still.

Okay, let's examine this. Dude, stop huffing the balsa sealer when no one is looking.

It's simple. And I like simplicity.

Yesterday I spoke at length with someone who was firmly convinced that our former judge is going to walk, free as a bird. Mistrial…hung jury, he explored every conceivable angle. I’d say he is to pessimism what Baroke Oblahblah is to blowing environmentally friendly smoke up our discharge tubes, but we’re all entitled to our opinions, unless, of course, if we happen to lean noticeably to the right.

Since I’m not an overpriced attorney, I need no convoluted legalese, no 16-year degree, any party of the second part contrivances, any fractional divisions thereof divided by the width of a circle or any of those garish-looking ties. And so, my judgment of guilt, based completely on the irrefutable laws of simplicity, is as follows…

The stuffing of enormous sums of cash into FedEx boxes, brown paper bags, tin cans, satchels, burlap potato sacks or into a metal Flintstone’s lunch box sans the fragile thermos by elected officials is a sure sign of undeniable, irrefutable guilt.

Therefore, I, Judge Markie F. Simpleton-Cour, sentence the defendant to be incarcerated for a term of no less than 20 years in the interactive, 120 decibel-powered Captain & Tennille Hall of Fame facility.

I mean, really? Stuffing cash into paper bags and the like?

Who do these people think they are, members of the Wilkes-Barre Area School Board?

Buh-bye