Charles Rotter,
The crowd was hushed in the courthouse, the benches packed tight with faith, For mighty Mikey Mann had swaggered in, convinced he’d seal his case.
The numbers gleamed upon the board, nine million bold and grand, A figure meant to thunder home the genius of the Mann.
But somewhere in the fine print, far from spotlight’s glare, The truth lay crouched and waiting, inconvenient, small, and bare.
For when the court looked closely, past the bluster and the spin, That mighty nine-point-seven shrank to barely one-one-two within.
And oh, the sound of gavel wood was sharp against the hall— They ruled the play was foul, not fair, bad faith and that was all.
No joy in Climateville tonight, no banners waved in cheer, For Casey—sorry, Mikey—had struck out swinging here.
The court was clear, unamused, its language cool and plain: You fed the jury fiction, sir, and must absorb the pain.
Still, this is not the final pitch; the inning’s not yet done, There’s talk of appeals ahead, a chance to try for one.
So the crowd files out uneasy, scorecards marked with doubt, For though it’s not the final strike three just yet— Mighty Mickey has struck out.
Mark Steyn’s take
Indeed. If he’s willing to participate in a nine million dollar lie on the stand, what won’t he lie about?
Next stop in Mann vs Steyn? The Court of Appeals.
UPDATE: Phelim McAleer sums it up over at Substack thus:
In short, Michael Mann won a defamation lawsuit over accusations of data fiddling, only to be found to have fiddled the data to achieve his victory.
https://www.steynonline.com/15916/mann-9m-jury-lie
H/T Sturmudgeon, Scissor
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Mighty Mickey Has Struck Out-Again
Charles Rotter,
The crowd was hushed in the courthouse, the benches packed tight with faith, For mighty Mikey Mann had swaggered in, convinced he’d seal his case.
The numbers gleamed upon the board, nine million bold and grand, A figure meant to thunder home the genius of the Mann.
But somewhere in the fine print, far from spotlight’s glare, The truth lay crouched and waiting, inconvenient, small, and bare.
For when the court looked closely, past the bluster and the spin, That mighty nine-point-seven shrank to barely one-one-two within.
And oh, the sound of gavel wood was sharp against the hall— They ruled the play was foul, not fair, bad faith and that was all.
No joy in Climateville tonight, no banners waved in cheer, For Casey—sorry, Mikey—had struck out swinging here.
The court was clear, unamused, its language cool and plain: You fed the jury fiction, sir, and must absorb the pain.
Still, this is not the final pitch; the inning’s not yet done, There’s talk of appeals ahead, a chance to try for one.
So the crowd files out uneasy, scorecards marked with doubt, For though it’s not the final strike three just yet— Mighty Mickey has struck out.
Mark Steyn’s take
https://www.steynonline.com/15916/mann-9m-jury-lie
H/T Sturmudgeon, Scissor
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