On Roman Polanski...

Me, I'm just tickled pink that the shithead is on his way back here to face the court.  It's a foregone conclusion that his punishment will be light, unless a miracle happens and the court decides to punish him for skipping the country.  I'm not holding my breath.

Meanwhile, the disgusting spectacle of the Hollywood “elite” (and I put that term in scare quotes, because, well, in that context it is scary) defending Polanski goes on and on, endlessly.  Mark Steyn notes (in the middle of a typically excellent column):

One sympathizes. Except that there are millions of children of the Holocaust struggling under the burdens of the past – and only one who deals with them as Roman Polanski does. Working on the film "Chinatown," the writer Robert Towne found it hard to concentrate at the director's pad, what with "the teenyboppers that Roman would run out and take Polaroid pictures of diving off the f***ing diving board without tops on. Which was distracting. With braces."

Braces. Cute.

Which leads directly to this:

Rope.
Tree.
Amoral Hollywood scum.
Some assembly required.

Isn't it amazing how many problems we can solve with a few feet of rope and a convenient tree?