Garvin and the Technicolor Jury Summons
Work has been stressful. Really stressful. And because I'm constantly having to save my PTO for religious holidays, I can never take a vacation outside of the normal workplace holiday schedule. (Yeah yeah discrimination, but I'm a public-sector employee in a red state... My boss just had to sign a legally-binding pledge effectively saying he is not now, nor has he ever been woke).
So imagine my surprise and delight (?) when I received a jury summons. This was my first jury summons in a long while and my first for federal cases. I had to work some crazy overtime to ensure division-wide projects could continue and I wouldn't have a mountain of work upon my return.
I told my boss about the summons a few weeks ago to prepare him for my absence. He said (copying directly from our work chat): "That's the solar eclipse day, my dude. What sort of omen is that? Good or bad? Def an omen of some kind."
I arrive at the courthouse at 7AM per the summons. Already there's a long line of people outside. It's cloudy, muggy, and threatening to rain. Following the lengthy instructions included with my summons, I have come wearing my only suit (purchased when I was 80-90 pounds heavier) and my most formal kippah (black velvet). The doors open and the line of people ahead of me slowly enters the building. I pass by through security, argue with the bailiff that my kippah is religious headwear until a kind US Marshal corrects him, and make my way to Jury Selection.
There are nearly 60 of us in the room. College students to retirees, all races, quite a few religions, and several income brackets were represented. A strange fellow walks in, 20 mins late. He's at most 5'3". Ginger, with pale skin, freckles, and bright orange hair. He's bald on top, but has let his hair grow long enough to form a rat tail. He has a well-trimmed beard but no moustache. His eyes are so close together he's basically a cyclops. Unlike the other men, he has shown up in a T-shirt that reads "I am Garvin". He's also wearing a "hello my name is" name tag. I personally believe he arrived with it. I did not receive a name tag, and no one else was wearing one either. Garvin sits alone by himself.
We watch a long, boring video about the importance of being a juror, featuring Justice Sandra Day O'Connor (from when she was on the bench). Afterwards, we are asked to line up at the front of the room and receive our Prospective Juror number. We are then reseated according to our number. I am seated between a philosemitic pentecostal (long hair, jean skirt, the whole nine yards) and - you guessed it - Garvin.
Before I go much further, I should probably explain I have an unnatural ability to provoke unsolicited opinions from people. There's something about me which leads to people from all walks of life to share whatever unhinged manic word salad is bouncing around in their heads. I've had deranged incels explain the plot of Attack on Titan to me umprompted at the post office. I've had little old ladies give me their gardening podcast recommendations while standing in the cereal aisle at the grocery store. Random MAGA guys have tried to make me their token Jewish friend so they can win arguments in middle of an Arby's. And I have been asked (at least three times in the same Best Buy parking lot) to join the full spectrum of radical political movements by men driving hatchbacks with Dragonball Z vinyl wraps. It's a blessing. Or a curse.
Mrs Pentecostal leans over and assures me she will not, as her appearance would indicate, proselytize. She respects my people's beliefs (but still can't help referring to them as "misguided"), and in fact she loves Jews. Jesus was Jew, don't you know? For the remainder of the day, she quizzes me on various Jewish celebrities. She tells me with confidence that she doesn't drink alcohol because it "makes Jesus weep" but that she always encourages her friends and family that do drink to try Manischewitz. "Manischewitz," she says, "is doing the Lord's work."
But we're not here to talk about Mrs Pentecostal. We're here to talk about Garvin.
We leave the jury selection waiting room and proceed to the courtroom. Along the way, Garvin introduces himself. His name, I correctly ascertain from his shirt and self-funded name tag, is Garvin. Garvin sprays for mosquitoes. He'll also help you trap vermin as long as you agree to catch and release methods of pest control (ironic for a man WO sprays for mosquitoes). He has insomnia, but takes medication for it. His name, he reminds me, is Garvin.
We each have to tell our names, occupations, hobbies, and favorite color. Kosher Marty, IT, vintage electronics and Muppet discourse, green.
We are asked to wait in the hallway for 10 mins. Garvin asks if I know any programming languages. "COBOL", I answer. I explain what COBOL is. Garvin says I'm "one of the few capable of understanding the truth: Programming is just higher-order gematria." He does not elaborate further. (He also pronounces "gematria" as "jim-atria". This is the least of my concerns.)
We return from our recess and continue the work of jury selection. A few hours later, we number less that 40. We are lead into a jury break room. Mrs Penetecostal is speaking with an elderly black man. Garvin sits next to me and asks if I'd like to continue our conversation from earlier. He continues without waiting for my reply.
"As an interpreter of higher order gematria," he asks, "would you say you agree that the US Constitution is divinely inspired?"
"Uhhh," say Kosher Marty
"Of course, that isn't to say it hasn't been perverted by man's corruptible nature. The 18th amendment was a satanic pact." says Garvin.
"Wh-what?"
"Alcohol is regulated by the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives. Right?"
"Yes, but-"
"The ATF is a subsidiary of the Department of Justice, as is the DEA, who regulate illicit substances such as cocaine, crack cocaine, fentanyl and the like, and of course crystal meth. These are all intoxicating substances, like hooch."
"Well the way they intoxicate you is different, I think, but sure????"
"HA! I knew it! So you see it too! The 21st Amendment is just a recontextualized rendering of the Book of [incomprehensible gibberish] of the Apocrypha! It reverses the satanic pact of Prohibition and upholds our God Given and Constitutionally Protected right to consume meth-amp-phetamines!"
"HUH!?!"
"Not to say that I would EVER imbibe such a chemical myself, but rather that God and Thomas Jefferson always intended us to have that temptation available. It's all there in the Constitution. That's why the age of majority needs to be 15. At 15 you need to be able to drive, drink, smoke, and snort your way across this great nation as long as you are willing to fight to defend it! Ergo summa cum laude: Meth-amp-phetamine Dispensaries are not only a good idea, but a necessary evil for society and western civilization."
"Are you really suggesting-"
"Of course the real question is why Prohibition was passed in the first place! It wouldn't have, had the Catholic Church not hidden the Apocrypha and burned down the Library of Alexandria. Herbet Hoover was the one that found an English translation in Jefferson's Presidential Library. It's all in the good book. Isn't that what you guys say? But more to the point, Prohibition was a Faustian pact between Lucifer, the Pope, and Susan B Anthony. But why would the Pope do that? Irish and German immigrants loved their pubs and beer gardens! Italians to! That's how the mob started! Kennedy was a rumrunner! That's why they killed him! Prohibition would hurt the very people the Pope claimed to intercede for! Do you know why he'd create Prohibition? I know why."
At this point, Mrs Pentecostal interjects: "Because the Pope worships the sun!" Mrs Pentecostal returns to her conversation.
"Precisely!" says Garvin, with a self-satisfied smile. He did not elaborate further.
We are ushered back into the courtroom, where jury selection continues until Mrs Pentecostal, Garvin, and I are all excused. On my walk back to the parking garage, Garvin stops me and suggests I look into the Waco Siege and "ATF-Vatican connections".
I did not get selected for jury duty. I have to go to back to work tomorrow.
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