It was a, ahem, shocking confession. Shot:
“Some time ago, outside the statute of limitations, I drove 60 miles an hour in a 55-mile-an-hour zone,” said Roberts, drawing laughter from those in the courtroom. But the chief didn’t crack a smile.
“I was not arrested,” he added.
For all you sanctimonious, self-righteous prigs who want all those bad hombres to get life plus cancer before sending them “home,” cut the bullshit. We, and by we, I mean you as well as me, all break the law. Some worse than others, but none of us, not even Chief Justice John Roberts, is so pure, so perfect, that he’s managed to live his life like Caesar’s wife. And I don’t care who you are or what lies you tell yourself or others. You don’t either. Hell, you don’t even know 90% of the laws, if not more, that can be broken on a
daily hourly basis.
The key is the final statement, that he was not arrested. Nor was President Obama for smoking dope. This isn’t a matter of where you fall on the political spectrum, though if you’re going to wrap yourself up in virtue and bludgeon the enemy with it, one can’t help the Schadenfreude when it turns out you stand a little too wide in public restrooms.
The point is that “there, but for the grace of God (assuming you’re not a closet atheist)” go you. You did it. You weren’t arrested. That doesn’t make you any better than anyone else. It just makes you lucky. Maybe not as lucky as Speed Racer Roberts, but luckier than a million other people you revile.
Whether it’s three felonies a day, as Harvey Silverglate wrote, or less, isn’t important. None of us are perfect. And what are the chances that S.R Roberts doubled down on his lies by claiming only 60 when it was really 62?