My darling girlfriend commented to me yesterday that she couldn’t believe none of us were writing about the 54 million dollar pants lawsuit. I told her – as I am telling you – that I can’t speak for the other authors, but the reason I haven’t mentioned it is because I couldn’t possibly care less about the whole thing.
It’s painfully obvious that it’s being driven by someone who is somewhere between socially twisted and overtly disturbed and to me that just makes it more sad than anything else. If you’re interested in the whole affair there’s been no shortage of coverage over at DCist and the WaPo’s Marc Fisher has written about it numerous times. Really, you’d be better served looking at his entire feed history – there’s more links than I care to dig up.
Most depressing, and the reason that I have avoiding talking about it, is that I have no doubt that this one little aberration is going to be fodder for the grinding of thousands of axes. Tort reform proponents and opponents will be all over it and use whatever result comes out of it as evidence that they Are Right. Worse yet, they’ll generate a metric frak-ton of words explaining in painstaking detail why they are right and it offends my sensibilities when someone passes up the 1,000,000 horses in order to use the one zebra to make their point about hoofprints.
This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs
Well I used to say something in my profile about not quite being a “tinker, tailor, soldier, or spy” but Tom stole that for our about us page, so I guess I’ll have to find another way to express that I am a man of many interests.
Hmm, guess I just did.
My tastes run the gamut from sophomoric to Shakespeare and in my “professional” life I’ve sold things, served beer, written software, and carried heavy objects… sometimes at the same place. It’s that range of loves and activities that makes it so easy for me to love DC – we’ve got it all.
