Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Why do they love being a Justice? I am sure there are days they wonder, too.


My Beloved World (click here)

It is an autobiography of her life up to her entrance to the legal profession. She had a challenging life and not without discrimination. It is unfortunate that tone continues even today.

Updated 5:55 pm, Friday, February 22, 2013

...Sotomayor (click here) is very much the poet-exile herself as she relives her childhood and that of her parents. Born in New York, she returns to Puerto Rico as a child to visit her family and recapture the sights, the blue of the ocean where it meets the sky and the almost sweet taste of coconut milk sipped by a straw through a hole punctured in a fresh green coconut, not one of the "shriveled hairy brown things" sold on the streets of the Bronx. Sonia sips and tastes her "beloved world" - filled with exotic flavors and savored most often in the company of her vast extended family....

Ya got to love it. A Hispanic female Justice asks a presenting attorney a question and she is told to mind her wifely ideas as she has the issue wrong. Then a caucasian male Justice tells the presenting attorney to shut up and answer the question put to him.

It was definitely a legitimate question. It wasn't based in anything except prudent legal purpose.

The refusal of an attorney to answer a question from a USA Justice is attitude. There is no reason for attitude when the arguments are winning arguments.

Harm is a reason to take a legal question seriously and the answer that harm was not an issue as the Justice has the question wrong is so very arrogant. It is a heck of a defense for a law that should never have been written in the first place.


Posted: 02/26/2013 3:57 pm
...We can talk about race and class (click here) in America all we want but Justice Sotomayor describes better than any sociologist or politician just what a different planet you live on if you have education, power, and wealth. And what it feels like if you don't.
She puts us in the Harvard/Radcliffe admissions office circa 1970, where everything from the oriental rug to the white couch to the perfectly coiffed hair of the admissions officer conspire to say: you don't belong here if you're from the Bronx....