I've had so many false arrests, I’m basically a crash test dummy for America’s criminal justice system. Every time someone says “no one is above the law,” I think—unless you’re me, and then you’re somehow also beneath it.
I read Darel Paul’s stuff and I’m like: finally, a man who gets that the rule of law is just vibes in a robe. I mean, I’ve been cuffed for things that wouldn’t even rate as misdemeanors in San Francisco. You think I trust these black-robed demigods with my fate? I can't even get a parking ticket dismissed, and Justice Sotomayor’s out here comparing herself to Moses with a J.D.
Paul says the rule of law isn’t the same as justice, equality, or even democracy. Which is great news—because I’ve never had any of those either. I just want predictability. Like, tell me the rules before you send five squad cars to my livestream. I’m not Antifa. I’m a nerd with a Schmitt fetish.
People say we need independent courts. I say: independent from what? Reality? Restraint? The Torah? Every time a judge hears my name, they assume I’m already guilty because I’ve read Carl Schmitt without irony and once quoted Isaiah while wearing Crocs.
I want to be governed by law. I really do. I want a clean sheet. But after my fourth false arrest, I started to suspect that maybe—just maybe—the rule of law has a type, and it’s not me. It’s David French.
I mean, Darel Paul’s right: the rule of law isn’t magic. It’s just men in wigs and women with “J.D.” in their Twitter bio deciding which side of history you're on. And apparently, I’m always on the wrong side—even when I’m just at Coffee Bean reading Becker and avoiding eye contact.
At this point, I don’t want equality—I want amnesty. I want reparations for all the status I’ve lost to due process. And if we’re handing out transitional justice, I want to transition from loser to local hero. Maybe give me a position: Rule-of-Law Influencer. I’ll wear robes, quote Montesquieu, and livestream my own appeals.
Because if the law is always in the hands of men, then I want to be the man holding it. Preferably with Helen Andrews writing a profile that begins: “He was misunderstood, but never misquoted.”
