Somewhere along the fallibility continuum of the American justice system – closer to the Rosenberg commies than those anarchists Sacco and Vanzetti – now lies that weird little gun-toting, Jewish kid from the Bronx known as Harvey Phillip Spector. Superior Court Judge Larry Paul Fidler (who apparently has received some poetically disturbing death threats as of yet via, get this, MySpace) declared Spectorâ€™s noir-like murder case a mistrial as the nine men/three women jury announced a deadlock for the second time in eight days. Split 10-2, the jury did not indicate which way their 12 days and six ballots of deliberation were skewed. Fidler ordered the attorneys for both parties to return to his L.A. courtroom October 3rd to figure out exactly how this little piss ant got away, thus far at least, with shooting a $9-an-hour House of Blues hostess (who, like pretty much everyone else in 1987, was in Amazon Women on the Moon) in the mouth and try calling it suicide.
If you ask me, they shouldâ€™ve fried this nut job a long time ago for ruining all eight songs of Leonard Cohenâ€™s Death of a Ladiesâ€™ Man.Â And as for what he did to The Beatles’ swan song and poor Dee Dee Ramone, he should be forced to suffer through “Unchained Melody” at least as many times as we had to when Ghost came out.