Franken leads +225 (+21 and +14 of the "Nauen61" the Elections Contest Court has ordered into the "Ready to Count" pile at the the Secretary of State's office; all these voters have indicated they voted for Franken)= +260.
No orders or decisions from the Elections Contest Court as of this morning. Now the 9th day since both sides filed their "proposed Findings of Fact."
No time limit for the ECC to move, so we all wait.
SOooooo, lets do what we do quite well here at Kos: some speculation, some great gossip and history, and a walking EPA violation comes to town.
A bit more literary stuff too, all past the Orange fold....
Why is it taking so long?
We are 9 days since the attorneys filed "proposed Findings of Fact" with the ECC and 13 days since closing arguments.
One thing that occurs to me is the fact this was a "bench" trial rather than a jury trial. Now I may be all wet here and you lawyer types can stand over there with Gatorade coolers and dump on me in a minute, but here's my thinking.
Any trial includes 2 elements: facts and law. We expect/know the ECC will produce BOTH "Findings of Fact" and "Conclusions of Law" as parts 1 & 2 of their decision (which will be part 3.)
In a jury trial the jury does the fact part. They retire to the jury room, talk over testimony, weigh witness credibility (Henry Fonda: "The old man COULDN'T have gotten to the door as quick as he said he did."- 12 Angry Men; fabulous, tight drama & all star cast!) examine exhibits, and critique the lawyers.
Meanwhile, AT THE SAME TIME, the judge is boning up on the pleadings, checking citations the lawyers threw into the case, researching precedents, case law, and certain statutes that may figure in an indirect way.
That allows not only for drama but a bit of speed when the word buzzes through the marble corridors from the bailiff Louis Nizer(!): "The jury returns". Everyone assembles for the "Findings of Fact." Jury Foreman Mark Slackmeyer, called away from his radio host chores on Doonesbury 100.7 for jury duty stands up and reads carefully from a sheet, "In the case of the People of the United States vs. Karl Rove, Donald Rumsfeld, John Yoo, Dick Cheney, David Addington, Doug Feith, Alberto Gonzales, Condi Rice, and the Former First Puppet, on the charge of TREASON, we the jury find the defendants individually and collectively guilty as charged......that's guilty! Guilty! GUILTY!!"
Then its up to Judge Roy Bean to apply the Conclusions of Law, which will be ready to roll: "I sentence you each to swing at dawn tomorrow!" (And there is much rejoicing...).
BUT in a bench trial like the ECC, the judge(s) need to do BOTH functions in series rather than in parallel..... I think. Courtroom types, does that make sense, at least in part? Yes they want good orders and a tight, non-reversible ruling, but would this be part of it too? Just asking..... or do I now get to walk around drenched?
Retrospective Recount and Fun Gossip
We are all waiting of course and writers are trying to fill the space. Some serialize novels. Jay Weiner of the Minn Post acted like a REAL REPORTER (Lamestream media take notes; lookin' at you , Star Tribune!) and tracked down a man named Terry O'Toole, an 87 year old St. Paul Irishman and as rock-ribbed a Democrat as you'll ever meet. O'Toole came to room 300 in the Judiciary Building for the last couple weeks of the ECC trial for professional and historical reasons.
The professional part is O'Toole is a retired trial lawyer and still enjoys the "game." He is also personal friends with that kid who was lead attorney for Coleman, 72 year old Joe Friedberg. (Now Friedberg is a Democrat too and said on the public record he did not/would not vote for Norm Coleman.) But O'Toole is a Democrat's Democrat:
When (Franken attorney Kevin) Hamilton completed his closing argument 12 days ago, O'Toole lifted himself out of his seat. Cane in hand, he marched over to the swinging door that separated the lawyers' well from the public seating area.
"You did an excellent job, and I should know," he told Hamilton. "I practiced law for 50 years. I've seen a lot of closing arguments, and that was one of the best."
WOW!
But there's more!
O'Toole is a Democrat who was still active in the early 90's when an East Coast transplant wanted to run for mayor of St. Paul. O'Toole and Ramsey County (St. Paul) Democratic chair Mike McLaughlin helped launch Norm Coleman to his first win in public office.
In 1996 Norm decided to make....the SWITCH to the Dark Side. He called in both O'Toole and McLaughlin to break the news to them:
"He was a wild, anti-Vietnam protester from the East and he's going to become a Republican?" O'Toole said, reliving the moment of Coleman's transformation. "I couldn't believe it."
And O'Toole and McLaughlin made it a point to be in attendance days later when Coleman formally and publicly announced his party switch.
"What are you two doing here?" Coleman asked them, as O'Toole recalls.
"McLaughlin and I both said — almost simultaneously — 'We're both Irish. We have an old habit. When a friend dies, we go to his wake.' "
LOL!
AND there's more: O'Toole was part of the 1963 governor's recount won by 91 votes state wide. That mess led directly to the enacting of the present recount law we are watching play out.
SUPERB read by Jay Weiner:
http://www.minnpost.com/...
EPA Air Quality ALERT, RED
Nothing to do with the MN Senate race but EVERYTHING to do with the defense of democracy and the enforcement of the Constitution. Yesterday was a MAJOR air pollution event in Minneapolis, exceeding EVEN the time when 20,000 gallons of raw sewage backed up into the lutefisk rendering plant and ignited the resulting swamp gas in a cloud seen at 280 nautical miles by space shuttle Discovery.
Thats right......Karl Rove was in town. And the MN Progressive Project gave it the headline he deserves (at a minimum:) "War Criminal".
http://www.mnprogressiveproject.com/...
Personal Accountability Moment to Kos Community
Back at diary v. 100 in response to your desire to express your generosity I opened a paypal link for anyone who wanted to send me some coin for these diaries. (Got permission from His Orange-ness and everything.) I promised 5% of what came in to animal rescue in MN and 5% to the Disabled American Veterans.
Dear Pet Haven of MN: I have been blogging the MN Senate race on DailyKos since November. People there keep reading since they seem to like my style. They asked for the chance to be generous to me, and they were. And I wrote that whatever came in part would be shared: It is written in Talmud, "The poor also must practice charity." That way they will have acquired the habit when blessings come to them.
So this beggar will put 5% of whatever comes in toward animal rescue here in MN, because as Radar O'Reilly once said on MASH: "Dogs are people too!" and all God's critters need each other.
Please use the attached $58 donation for the good of the critters and give a few a scratch on the ears from their Internet friends.
Shalom, WineRev
And again:
Dear Commander Wilson and the Disabled American Veterans: I have been blogging the MN Senate race on DailyKos since November. People there keep reading since they seem to like my style. They asked for the chance to be generous to me, and they were. And I wrote that whatever came in part would be shared: It is written in Talmud, "The poor also must practice charity." That way they will have acquired the habit when blessings come to them.
".......and I will put another 5% toward my Dad's constant charity: the Disabled American Veterans. Those "dogfaces" pushed their tanks past my dad to the Elbe River the day after he crossed it, making sure the Red Army would not overtake him that day, or ever. They also traded him C-rations for beer and wine (even then! Runs in the family), and when he would sketch their pictures (or their girl's picture) in the Red Cross canteen they would bring him donuts and coffee from the "soldiers only" table. He never forgot those who carried metal in their bodies and hurt in their hearts their remaining days."
Attached please find a contribution of $58 from the folks at DailyKos. Thank you for caring for those who have served in a most dangerous and honorable way for the sake of all of us.
From your friends on the Internet,
Shalom, WineRev
And finally, to hold you another day, I'll put up one more chapter of Encampment. On advice from a musing publisher who is considering the possibility of perhaps taking under advisement the remote, miniscule tentative consideration of maybe thinking about someday publishing Encampment...... on the basis of THAT iron-clad, cast in stone commitment, I'm cutting back on installments so as to not "give it all away."
(Of course, if I am met by a storm of protest/resistance by one or even 2 readers I will cling to the adamant nature of this agreement/covenant/treaty/blood oath with MY publisher and..... think about one more chapter later today. I mean, no kidding, the last few days I've found out this diary series and the Encampment serial has readers in Tajikistan... and Cote d'Ivore! As I wrote back to this last, "Next we'll hear by ship to shore Internet: "We are in Antarctic waters for the penguin march but over lunches we discuss pile 3a ballots from Baudette County... just so you know!")
Hard core I know, but, ah, business is business and its a tough, cruel world out there, and sometimes in here too as you can tell.
Hope that will hold you as here yust southeast of Lake Wobegon we wait for the ice to break up and the ECC to order, rule and decide.
Shalom.
_________________________________________________________
Chapter 14 Encampment All rights reserved by WineRev.
A lean, handsome man of 48 with close black hair, a dashing moustache and small goatee, Elijah Porterfield had been pastor of Second African Baptist on Savannah’s Franklin Square since 1901. On Tuesday morning he slid a long sheet of paper covered with signatures out from under a pasteboard bucket holding a few pennies and nickels. He checked the church front doors and turned to walk down the hall when he heard humming from the sanctuary. Following the sound to the front he found a toolbox of well-used carpenter’s tools. Lucius Robinson was lying on the floor looking up where the second pew seat joined its aisle end piece.
"Hello Lucius." Robinson jerked and the humming broke into a "waaah". His eyes went wide and his body went rigid.
"Oh, easy, easy, Lucius. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you," Porterfield said anxiously. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, reverend, I’ll be fine. Jes’ gimme a minute," Lucius answered, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. When he opened them Porterfield could see the haunting gone, so he started again.
"What you workin’ on?"
"Oh last Sunday Ruby Talmadge told me her seat was squeakin’ and felt mushy, so I told her I’d have a look at it."
"What do you think?"
"Its loose all right. Glue joint’s commin’ apart and a coupla nails are gone."
"Give you a hand?"
Porterfield handed Lucius a hammer and crow iron. Lucius cleaned out the joint as best he could without removing the entire elm end piece with the carved rosette. He used a bit and brace to drill some countersink holes for screws to replace the nails. He took a piece of scrap wood from his box and sat down on the front pew to whittle three wedge shims to tighten the joint. Porterfield joined him on the pew.
"Thanks for doin’ this, Lucius. I appreciate it, ’though not as much as Ruby I’m sure." Lucius smiled as Porterfield studied him closely. "How you doin’, Lucius? How’s the house comin’?"
"House is comin’ along nicely. You know I always wanted to build a house for Beulah and in a roundabout way now I got the chance. And this Beulah is as good for Rufus---and me---as my own Beulah was."
Lucius whittled, the soft smell of pine mingling with the faintly sweet smell of beeswax candles. The quiet grew. Shavings hitting the floor sounded loud.
"I thought it’d be different by now," he said in a strangled voice. "Maybe not right aftah the War and ‘Mancipation. President Johnson ended Special Field Order 15, but then," a tear rolled down his cheek. Another shaving tapped the floor "...we got the vote." Even for church his tone was angel-holy. "The vote."
"President Grant put down the Klan so hard they’ve stayed down. By now I figured ever’body would settle down, live and let live."
A bitterness scrunched his face as his knife stopped. "But they don’t!" he wailed. "I cain’t take a night walk or I’ll get run in fo’ curfew. I pay my nickel same as a white man for the streetcar and gots to stand out on the runnin’ board, rain or shine." He looked up at Porterfield. "Rufus and Beulah went in their Sunday best to buy the kit house and got treated ratt at the Sears Roebuck. But on the way home some cracker hauled off and called Rufus a ‘pickaninny popinjay’ and spit at Beulah, just ‘cause he could. Or ‘cause he was, or they were......" his words fell apart.
Porterfield leaned over and put a hand on his shaking shoulder, searching for what to say. As Lucius wound down Elijah closed his eyes with a deep breath and said, "Lord God, we have passed out of Egypt and left slavery behind. How far to the Promised Land, O Lord? Lord, its been 49 years since leaving slavery and even Israel only had to wander 40 years. How long O Lord? How long?"
Lucius unconsciously resumed humming as Porterfield continued. "Lord, hear your servant Lucius, lamenting for his people. Hear O Lord, a cry for justice. Listen, O God, your people cry to you for justice. We have waited O Lord, and still justice is delayed. How long, O Lord? Let justice be no more delayed, O God, so none believe justice is denied. Let your people cross over Jordan. Cross over soon, O Lord, into the Promised Land."
"Soon Lord," Lucius echoed. "I ain’t got that much time to see it Lord, so let it be soon."
"Yes, Lord, let it be soon," Elijah continued, accompanied by humming, "Let it be soon."
The humming ended in a long, rich sigh. With a series of hand gestures (neither man felt like breaking the silence) Lucius painted a mess of glue into the joint, tapped in the wedges and drove home several screws. He wiped up the drips and used a little broom to collect his shavings, then packed up.
They stood inside the doors leading onto Franklin Square.
"Signed this letter yet?" Elijah asked. "Its going to W.E.B. DuBois at ‘Crisis’ magazine in Chicago."
"Oh that's ratt," Lucius answered. "’Bout havin’ the USCI vets at Gettysburg next summer. Here, lemme have that."
Elijah handed him a pencil and Lucius signed. Porterfield read the signature and said quietly, "You ought to add ‘Mister’ in front o’ your name. They’ll print it that way you know: mister, missus, miss."
Lucius sighed. "Yeah, but so what? Won’t get us any respect with white folk. They won’t read ‘The Crisis’. And look here," he said as he picked up the pasteboard bucket marked "Gettysburg" and shook the few coins in it. "You really think house servants, street sweepers and grave diggers scratching for every cent are gonna fill this up? Ain’t no way we’ll even raise enough to send one of our USCI boys to Gettysburg. And even if they’d go, where would they stay? What would they do there? Who’d pay ‘em any mind?"
Porterfield waited until they were both outside. "We’re just gettin’ started and who knows? These pennies might be the seed and the letter could be the water. If so God’ll give the growth. Anyway thanks for fixin’ that pew."
"You’re welcome reverend. Thanks for the prayer."
"See you Sunday."
"That is such a reverend thing to say."