Can't wait until tomorrow...love to see the judge dismiss this travesty of justice...and bitch slap Mulehead in the process!
Long ago, when my three wonderful daughters were in grade school, they regularly conversed over the telephone with a rather unique life coach. They called him “Uncle Al.” He was, in fact, a member of the Mafia and one of my informants from my days in the Justice Department’s Organized Crime and Racketeering Section. Even after I left the Strike Force, he would, on a quite regular basis, call my home to speak with me.
In those days, when the phone rang, one of my little girls would always get to it first. On those occasions when Uncle Al was calling, I would lift the extension and hear him in his gruff voice giving my innocent child such useful advice as “study hard in school” and “do what yer mom and dad tell ya’ to do.” Such advice would invariably elicit the sweet, squeaky voiced reply, “Okay, Uncle Al.”
These exchanges always left me with more than a touch of cognitive dissonance. You see, Uncle Al was calling from prison, and I had helped put him there. He had been convicted of a mob murder. But, after his conviction, he flipped and began feeding me valuable information about La Cosa Nostra and governmental corruption.
When he first decided to cooperate, he was being held in a county jail awaiting transfer to Attica prison in upstate New York. I promptly yanked him out of the state system and arranged for him to serve his fifteen year to life sentence under a new identity in federal prison. This led to his taking an all-expenses-paid tour of federal prisons throughout the country as, in one facility after another, the inmates would figure out his real name and informant status. These moves were necessary to keep him alive.
Read more at spectator.org ...
Long ago, when my three wonderful daughters were in grade school, they regularly conversed over the telephone with a rather unique life coach. They called him “Uncle Al.” He was, in fact, a member of the Mafia and one of my informants from my days in the Justice Department’s Organized Crime and Racketeering Section. Even after I left the Strike Force, he would, on a quite regular basis, call my home to speak with me.
In those days, when the phone rang, one of my little girls would always get to it first. On those occasions when Uncle Al was calling, I would lift the extension and hear him in his gruff voice giving my innocent child such useful advice as “study hard in school” and “do what yer mom and dad tell ya’ to do.” Such advice would invariably elicit the sweet, squeaky voiced reply, “Okay, Uncle Al.”
These exchanges always left me with more than a touch of cognitive dissonance. You see, Uncle Al was calling from prison, and I had helped put him there. He had been convicted of a mob murder. But, after his conviction, he flipped and began feeding me valuable information about La Cosa Nostra and governmental corruption.
When he first decided to cooperate, he was being held in a county jail awaiting transfer to Attica prison in upstate New York. I promptly yanked him out of the state system and arranged for him to serve his fifteen year to life sentence under a new identity in federal prison. This led to his taking an all-expenses-paid tour of federal prisons throughout the country as, in one facility after another, the inmates would figure out his real name and informant status. These moves were necessary to keep him alive.
Read more at spectator.org ...
