1115.org

The story of Victor A. Rita is so much like I. Lewis Libby’s that one has to feel that comparing their cases is a fair comparison, an equal comparison:

The defendant, Victor A. Rita, was, like Mr. Libby, convicted of perjury, making false statements to federal agents and obstruction of justice.Mr. Rita has performed extensive government service, just as Mr. Libby has. Mr. Rita served in the armed forces for more than 25 years, receiving 35 commendations, awards and medals. Like Mr. Libby, Mr. Rita had no criminal history for purposes of the federal sentencing guidelines.

The judges who sentenced the two men increased their sentences by taking account of the crimes about which they lied. Mr. Rita’s perjury concerned what the court called “a possible violation of a machine-gun registration law”; Mr. Libby’s of a possible violation of a federal law making it a crime to disclose the identities of undercover intelligence agents in some circumstances.

When Mr. Rita argued that his 33-month sentence had failed to consider his history and circumstances adequately, the Justice Department strenuously disagreed.

More than that, when Rita appealed to the Supreme Court for a lighter sentence, the Justice Department filed an opposing brief. Rita lost the Supreme Court case:

Rita had sought a sentence lower than 33 months, based on his physical condition — he has diabetes and other illnesses — his likely vulnerability in prison and his military service in Vietnam and in Operation Desert Storm.

The Supreme Court upheld a U.S. appeals court’s ruling that found Rita’s sentence to be reasonable.

There is no escaping fruit and vegetable metaphors. Libby and Rita are two peas in a pod. Comparing their legal cases is undoubtedly comparing apples to apples.

And what we learn from the comparison is that we are indeed living in a fictional nightmare, the fruit orchard version of Animal Farm. All apples are equal, but some apples are more equal than others.

Most apples fall to the ground, as apples must. But some apples mysteriously start to slow down even as they are falling, and lo, then they rise, subject to some mysterious anti-gravity force.

And this magic is personally performed by George Wuss. Viva el Presidentissimo! Somebody give the man a banana.