MY BAD
It has come to my attention — i.e. my wife told me — that many people are saying I have been insufficiently contrite about my vitriolic impatience with Merrick Garland, whom I rather hysterically called a wuss at least a thousand times (and whom I branded with the above meme).
My bad. Mea culpa. I apologize to the Attorney General and to everyone who had to endure my year-plus of ranting about him. To my minimal credit, I was already re-evaluating my assessment of him and his strategy before the “raid” on Mar-a-Lardo. The enormous impact of the January 6 Committee’s hearings — and especially of the season (not series) finale –made me see that what had been missing until now was an indication that the sentient portion of the public understood the gravity of the situation, and the impossibility of letting Trump slide. A week before the FBI searched that shrine to everything bad about America, I wrote:
Suddenly Garland’s tortoise-like pace — whether out of wiliness or wimpiness — seems brilliant. My own frustration with him has been apparent, as any recipient of my emails with the signature “Hey! Garland! WTF?” can attest. Whenever I’ve heard someone on MSNBC pointing out something he should be doing but isn’t, or shouldn’t be doing but is, I’ve hurried to social media to share inelegant musings like “GARLAND! WHAT THE MOTHERFUCKING FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR?” But it turns out that not rushing to prosecute — giving the country time to process its PTSD (Post Trump Stress Disorder) — was, in fact, the smart move.
So, let there be no mistake. I am gobbling down a huge bowl of crow, with humble pie for dessert. I am shrieking from the metaphorical rooftops: I WAS WRONG!!!
I have never been happier to have been wrong, and this was an excellent thing to have been wrong about.