Kook

I think I'm going to start my own political movement. I've got this great idea for fomenting and harnessing a lot of latent collective rage: we're going to be the anti-subpoena party.

Now, I know, I know, at first mention it sounds wonkish and unsexy, like something only lawyers would pay any attention to, but bear with me. This has potential.

The issuing of a subpoena is rarely good news, and often is extremely unwelcome, but nevertheless, is frequently both necessary and understandable. The sketchy ones can be a sign that the justice system is having a sloppy or irrational day, but when that happens, there are ways to quash it. That attempt might succeed or it might fail, but even then there are always lessons learned, ways to do it better. The fact that it's not always used perfectly is no more of a rational argument against it than occasional false alarms are an argument for abolishing fire departments.

Sound reasonable? Well, say goodbye to reasonability, because all that is about to change. This country needs an anti-subpoena revolution, and here's my first crack at a manifesto:

• A subpoena is big, bad, intrusive government at its worst. So the government wants your information? So it can't enforce the law without it? Well, isn't that just too bad? It's not the government's information; it's your information. It belongs to you.
• A subpoena is wasteful. What do they do with your information once they have it? They run straight to the press and leak it, and your privacy swirls right down the drain.
  
• And even though the cases of corruption and misconduct are actually few and far between, I can take every one of them I find, as well as a few legitimate cases that I can twist and distort to seem like corruption, and repeat them with drumbeat insistence until people with the critical thinking skills of a dishrag decide that they're all just greedy grabs for power.
• Oh, and I need a complete bonehead argument. I can't launch my own democracy-mangling pustule of a movement without an argument so stupid that it makes you slam your head on your keyboard in despair. Mmm ... how's this? Pluralize the word, and you get "subpoenas." Say it out loud. You see? You see right there? It's a code word for the secret terrorist plot to put hormones in our water and conquer us through genital shrinkage! I'll repeat this a few dozen times on an AM radio show, getting more and more worked up, and I'll change reality! Although, honestly, that'll be the easiest part, since the listeners won't have too tight a grip on reality to begin with.
  

Job numero uno, I have to condition everyone to turn their brains off whenever I mention the word. They can't be permitted to think about catching criminals, about the impossibility of prosecuting lawbreakers effectively without obtaining evidence. Can't let any of that rationality or perspective seep in through the cracks. Can't let anyone suspect that a subpoena might be a useful tool instead of, or even at the same time as, a headache. Nosirree: I have to stamp that right out!

Oh, and I probably need to associate it with one political party, too, so the target is a manageable size. Let's see: which one paints itself as the party of law and order? Ahhh, perfect! And I need a catchy three-word label, just because it's not a political movement for the brain-dead if I don't regularly drop productive discussion for a round of childish name-calling. How about "subpoena and railroad?" No, too many syllables. "Subpoena and screw?" That has promise. "Subpoena and ballerina?" I may have to keep working on that part.

But boy, am I rolling now! Soon as I get momentum, I can lure all the braying, brain-dead breakfast cereals who get their political commentary from the slogans and the brutal oversimplifications recruited for my angry mob, and I can so monkey-wrench the government that it can't get anything accomplished, and we're all less safe, and then I can exercise my newfound leverage over this scorched-earth country that once upon a time worked, however messily or imperfectly.

Let's roll.