I didn’t plan on paying much attention to Trump’s trial this week because it’s not being televised. If I can’t watch it on C-SPAN on mute while playing “The Imperial March” every time he walks in then, seriously, what’s the point.
However I finally broke down and began following the NYT live coverage, which is pretty good unless you mind being alerted every two seconds that there are 9 new updates and then by the time you scroll up there are 32+ new updates. You can try to catch up but you never will.
Looking at Stormy’s title, I’m desperate to know when she added porn “director” and “producer” to her CV. Because it definitely lends her additional credibility. But let’s not forget that this case is not about sex. It’s about falsified business documents. Sexually falsified business documents.
If convicted, The Accused could face probation or up to four years in prison. Are you kidding me? Has drawing and quartering become de rigeur?
The jurors remain one of the biggest attractions, as detailed in these copious notes from NYT reporters, such as “jurors appear to be taking copious notes” and “I see one juror smiling slightly” and “one takes a sip of water.” As if they’re novelty items to observe up close as opposed to pissed off New Yorkers paying neighborhood kids to pick up their mail and deescalate any possible death threats.
The jury foreman is apparently Irish, like Irish Irish, not Irish-American like me. (Although I bet he doesn’t have a Honey Fitz lamp.) How did he get this job anyway? They do realize he’s going to be drunk for about two-thirds of this historic trial, right?
I’ve never served on a jury before although I’ve always wanted to. I would quickly nominate myself forewoman, refuse to count votes, and throw my unlit chewed-on cigar across the table to pressure reluctant jurors.
This week’s testimony came from formal National Enquirer publisher David Pecker, where he basically talked about helping Trump cover up incendiary stories by paying off Stormy Daniels and Playboy model Karen McDougal. It’s called catch-and-kill, a well-known journalistic tactic employed mostly by people named Pecker.
Here are some other key insights from inside the courtroom. Which is to say, you’re not missing anything.
Someone in the courtroom giggles.
At least two of Trump’s lawyers have let out yawns this morning.
Trump enters the courtroom, licking his lips.
Trump is struggling to stay awake. His eyes were closed for a short period.
Trump was jolted awake when his lawyer nudged him.
Todd Blanche…is twirling a pen in his right hand. He then rubbed his face.
Trump pulls down the lapels of his jacket sharply and walks out.
This is like the most boring reality show ever. And I watched The Apprentice. (Sick burn.)
But my favorite update this week belongs to the reporter who lamented that “we have no lunch break today — usually it’d be about a half hour away — and this is a lot of information to absorb.”
Dude. You’re a journalist. You’re supposed to be able to live on nothing but black coffee and Gardetto’s snack mix for a straight week. Deal.
The reporter who lamented that his lunch was in peril “and this is a lot of information to absorb.” WTF? Who employs this guy with the entitlement jones? Apparently he signed up for journalism because he wanted to be fed and do little. Nothing wrong with that. But maybe staying back at the newsroom, having daily snacks and entrees and writing obits and weather stories might be something to explore.
My friends are shocked I have no interest. But if these trials are partisan exercises that will simply be overturned by higher courts (exactly like the CO decision) then where's the interest?