Here-Comes-the-Judge

Well, Miss–Here–Comes–the–Judge came booting in to town all Ready-Set-Go to Investigate, Dominate, and Eradicate that Secret Society of Scryers….. However, you know and I know, first she had to win over the hearts, minds and souls of those country folk and well, that’s not a simple chore…

They are more judgemental than the Supreme Court of Canada and are not weighed down by past court rulings, a Leave to Appeal or rustic law books from whence Amalgamation became Confederation …. or something like that, don’t quote me.

Still those simple folk had a loosely knit list (written in that indelible ink, never shared with Misfit Molly…because…well, she was a misfit) of qualities and quantities it took to be worthy enough to do the job at hand.  It would be applied fairly, squarely and without prejudice (although knowing human nature, you got to take that with a grain of salt).

 So… when Miss–Here–Comes–the–Judge made her grand entrance in to the Courtroom, they were a bevy of bystanders, The Official Evaluation Committee …greeting her… no, not so much… more to well, evaluate:

• 

  Did Miss–Here–Comes–the–Judge have a proper sombre attitude which reflected in her looks, clothes, and deportment? Looked that way, but those killer high heels…totally unnecessary and citified. Weren’t those things outlawed in some countries? She’d break her freaking neck first time she was called to Mr. Farmer-in-the-Dell’s pasture to inspect his dead sheep that were surely poisoned by some unknown, nefarious troublemaker who should be prosecuted to the full degree and severity that the law decreed.   Those sheep were like his family Farmer-in-the-Dell said, with a catch in his voice.… and if justice could not be served, well at least commiseration was free.

• 

  What kind of car was Miss–Here–Comes–the–Judge driving? Most important that it was a North American manufactured. After all, many the country folks had worked their heart out for the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA…got that Mr. Trump?), had pensions from those gold mines and did not want any apple cart upset and their benefits yanked.

• How did Miss–Here–Comes–the–Judge  project herself to the Welcoming Committee? (Comprised of, but not limited to: the Mayor, a Counsellor, some Big Shot Executives from the local Manufacturers, The Chief of Farmer Associations, the Police Department and the Volunteer Fire Department, the Newspaper Editor and of course, High Ranking Church Officials… a lot of names to remember …should we test her later?)

Now you must understand there was some heavy-duty qualification to becoming a member of the Evaluation Committee:

• You had to be wise as Solomon.
• No Members of your Clan could have been part of the Secret Society of Scryers as note Molly Misfit’s Never ending Journals and Tales.

But most importantly:

• 

  You must have been born in that county as well as your grandfather, great-grandfather, great-great- grandfather… etcetera, etcetera… preference given to those who had bragging rights for at least seven generations, both sides of the family. Your kids could be accepted to Harvard easier than making the Evaluation Committee.

And so it came to pass, without an interview, without poor Miss–Here–Comes–the–Judge being in any way informed, a discussion was held with varying opinions and judgement rendered, exclusive of anyone having to swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, so help me God.

It was soon to be seen that first an impasse, then an insurrection was in the making. That is why Miss–Here–Comes–the–Judge stood on the Court House Steps and declared (I swear):

All you Country Folk better listen up to me…Cause I am the judge, as you can plainly see…I want a big, round table now I’m here…I won’t sit down, if it is square…I’m gonna lay down the law… you better not budge…I can lay down the law …Cuz Here–Comes–the–Judge.                                                                               (Paraphrase Pigmeat Markham)

What? What did she just say? Was that the new fangled rap their kids listened to?

Word of Caution  Miss–Here–Comes–the–Judge: We will judge you no better or no worse than you judge us and our kin.  So…

Let’s Get the Party Started.