ah, yes, the writ of habeas corpus. the piece of paper you allegedly need to have in tow in order to make an arrest legal. because no one wants to live in a land where illegal arrests can be made. how dare they corral americans into a pen without the proper paperwork? you know, a lot of people died so that secretaries and paralegals could find jobs preparing writs of habeas corpuses to hand to judges to sign or give to the janitor to sign or give to a signing machine to sign them or give to mr rogers to sign so that mr rogers can go to an even higher place in heaven: the important thing is that they - the writs of labia porpoise - need to be present, in the room, on the table, in a briefcase under a table, on the drink-surface of a saloon, it doesnt really matter its location ladies and gentlemen all that matters is that it exist and that it is specific about which apprehension is underway and that it specifies which statue, law, tradition, color code, dress code, bar code, zip code, crackerjack code has been violated, ignored, disobeyed, skirted-around, sublimated to one's own free will, scoffed at, laughed at, treated with disrespect and otherwise not suitably honored and adored. so, yes, where is, or are, the writs or writs or Ritz of Caveat Emptor in this case? I do not see any. I see lots of cops, lots of judges, lots of attorneys, but no Schlitz. No Schlitz of Garrulous Dorfus. And you know that the only reason we are fortunate enough to live in a land where Wrists of Corpus Delecti reign supreme unless ignored?....it is because of the Magna Carta. Yes, the Magnum P.I Jimmy Carter was signed aboard the HMS Assfuck in England in 14 Thousand BC so that people could not be arrested without duly authorized dooty being first excreted from the magisterial bum of the Sheriff of Nottingham. "Before you can arrest me you must tell me why you are arresting me Sir!" this was the haughty and lusty cry from the holy land of Mother England once the evil landowners and landlords saw the might and majesty of the Magma Crater staring them in the face, its ink not even yet dry. "How can we stand and fight against this?" a terrified King John gasped at his henchmen and gay guards of honor as the Magi Garters were waved in front of them. "We are undone" was the unified, whispered surrender of the lords and ladies to this new Power of the People! "We must tell them first why we are arresting them" an emotionally pummeled and spiritually exhausted King John whispered weakly as he crawled along the floor of the castle, seeking to find a drop of water oozing down the rocks of the walls that he might drink and regain his strength. And so thus it is today we have the Pile'oShit o' Cumulo Nimbus Writus Magnus Opus Rope-a-Dopus to guide us onward into the future of justice for all: "No arrest shall be made without paperwork!" And of course from that has evolved by far the most advanced progress toward human liberty every yet devised - can we take off our hats? - the Miranda Rights! The right to remain silent while being arrested under a writ of Coati Mundi as handed down to us from the Magnorticus Carniverous, signed so very long ago aboard a ship bound for Catalina where the dolphins play and the goats gambol gaily: the Rights of Miranda, the sacred and sanctified honorable and Worshipful Masterful right to go quietly. "Yes, I will go to my prison cell and piss there in my shoe in lieu...."piss in my shoe and skip to my lou"......sorry..... I will go to my cell quietly as guaranteed to me by the Constitution and duly interpreted as a living document to give to me the right of silence! I shall not speak as you drag me away. I know my rights, sir. I know my rights. In silence I will go to prison and have my life forever ruined and I will laugh as you try and make me relinquish my silence. Proudly and defiantly I will pout and grit my teeth and make no sound. It is my right. The Magical Garter and the Writ of Attainder Domesticus Coatimundi and my Carmen Miranda Rights; these I clutch jealously to my bosom in my little cell of steel and cement and part of a toilet. The last laugh is mine, yes, the last laugh is mine and I will laugh my laugh in SILENCE, as is my right!
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