There’s a weird thing that goes through the heads of some defendants, where they start to believe their own malarkey. Like they’re innocent, when they’re guilty as sin, caught on video doing the dirty. It makes for some very weird discussions about the handling of their case. But regardless of outcome, the last thing you want to hear about is how innocent they were, and how they deserved the outcome as opposed to some damn fine lawyering that saved their very guilty butt.

Meek Mill has parlayed his profile as rapper into innocent spokesperson for the downtrodden in the system. While on probation in Philly, he came to New York City and pulled a wheelie on a dirt bike, which was put up on Instagram, because that’s what cool people do. He got pinched for reckless endangerment. His lawyer, Joe Tacopina, got him an adjournment in contemplation of dismissal, which means that if he stays clean for six months, the case is dismissed. He was also sentenced to 30 hours of community service.

An ACD is a good disposition, and the subsequent dismissal of charges, essentially a second chance built into the law, let’s a person walk away from their offense. But it’s not innocence. It is specifically not a “disposition in favor of the accused,” so as to distinguish an ACD from innocence. It’s just a Mulligan, and Joe Tac did a good job getting an ACD for Mill. Mind you, Joe doesn’t come cheap.

But when Meek Mill decided to pop a wheelie on Tenth Avenue and Dykman Street, there were two things that should have gone through his head. First, he was on probation in Philly, and not committing new crimes is one of those conditions that isn’t hypertechnical, like missing curfew by a few minutes or failing to timely register a change of address, but pretty much a core requirement.

Second is that he was a famous rapper, which means that he wasn’t flying under the radar when he decided to behave poorly. Posting his recklessness on Instagram was tantamount to confessing to the crime. No, it wasn’t murder. Yes, it was reckless driving. This wasn’t the NYPD being mean, but just doing their job.

As a result,* Mill was violated on his Philly probation. The violation isn’t a huge surprise, given that the violation isn’t about the dismissal six months after he took the ACD, but about the crime he engaged in giving rise to the ACD. Still, the sentence imposed by Court of Common Pleas Judge Genece Brinkley, two to four years, was extremely harsh and contrary to the prosecution’s recommendation. It was still just a wheelie.

That Meek Mill came away from this experience with the desire to become a voice for crim law reform, particularly in the areas of probation and parole violations, is great. He’s a high profile guy and could bring some media attention to the issues. But then, his virtue was that he was a rapper, not a lawyer, not an innocent victim and certainly not someone remotely knowledgeable about law. Yet, there he was.

And then** there’s the op-ed.

Like many who are currently incarcerated, I was the victim of a miscarriage of justice — carried out by an untruthful officer, as determined by the Philadelphia District Attorney’s office, and an unfair judge.

The cop who arrested Mill in 2007 was, according to a source, on new Philadelphia DA Larry Krasner’s “do not call” list. There is nothing to suggest he was lying in Mill’s case. That he describes the judge as unfair is normal. Contrary to popular feminist belief, being whacked by a female judge feels no better than being whacked by a male judge.

My crime? Popping a wheelie on a motorcycle in Manhattan. Even though the charge was dismissed in a New York City court, a Philadelphia-based judge still deemed my interaction with the police to be a technical violation of my probation — stemming from a 2007 arrest — and sentenced me to two to four years in prison despite the fact that I didn’t commit a crime.

Two to four years was absurdly harsh, but “didn’t commit a crime”? Whoever wrote this for Mill should have shown a little more discretion, and perhaps some fealty to facts.

We all need to hold our lawmakers accountable for supporting unfair or inhumane policies and all practices that perpetuate injustice, especially for the blacks and Latinos who fall prey to them most frequently. The reality is African-Americans and Latinos who come from poverty-stricken neighborhoods are assigned public defenders too overburdened to do anything in most cases other than negotiate the most favorable plea deal, regardless of guilt or innocence.

Short on substance, long on condemning public defenders, who plead out the innocent. Should a guy who enjoyed the very expensive Joe Tac get to dunk on PDs? At least he acknowledged that they’re overburdened, though some PDs might take issue with the suggestion that the best they can do is facilitate the conviction of the innocent.

But Mill has decided not merely to indulge his own innocence, but has taken the mantle of reformer because popping wheelies and getting whacked for it makes him a reform expert.

Soon, some friends and I will be announcing a foundation dedicated to achieving real change. In the meantime, if you’re interested in joining us and lending your support to solving what is the moral crisis of our time, please visit www.reformnow.com and sign up.

Mill’s experience, apparently, is the “moral crisis of our time,” because these very real issues never happened until now, until they happened to him. There are, of course, serious people engaged in crim law reform, like Families Against Mandatory Minimums, which have the dedication, experience and sound knowledge of the problems, and who have been fighting this fight since Meek Mill was popping on a Big Wheel, but he’s going to start his own foundation rather than lend his fame to those who have demonstrated competence. It’s a “moral crisis,” suddenly.

Reforming the system is a good cause, and the fact that Meek Mill wants to help is a good thing. But Mill isn’t the poster boy for innocence, and isn’t equipped to lead the fight. That he seeks to contribute to a worthy cause is a wonderful thing, but he would be more useful if he stuck to reality, helped those capable of serious reform rather than pretend to have a clue, and, well, stayed in his lane while popping his wheelies. But then, everyone wants to be a star these days.

*Mill had another problem at the St. Louis Airport, the details of which suggest it too ended in his being given a break upon doing some community service.

**Somebody would have done well to inform Mill that there are white guys in prison too, and the problems of the system suck just as much for them as black guys, so that he didn’t say stuff like this.

.@MeekMill: “The plantation and the prison are actually no different. The past is the present. It ain’t no coincidence, this was the plan since abolition—to keep us subjugated by creating this system. … Now it’s our right to speak up.” https://t.co/tfWKX5cOty

— The Appeal (@theappeal) November 26, 2018