Start Claiming the Van Jones Defense

Maybe I’ll start using the Van Jones defense when it comes to all my legal paperwork: “Just because I signed it doesn’t mean I agree with it.”

If you haven’t yet caught it, “Special Advisor” (Czar) for Green Jobs Van Jones signed a 9/11 Truther petition in 2004 which sought a congressional hearing and investigation into the September 11, 2001, attacks claiming that the president George W. Bush deliberately allowed the attacks to happen. Van Jones is the 46th signature on this petition.

In a statement released this evening, Van Jones claimed, “the petition that was circulated today, I do not agree with this statement and it certainly does not reflect my views now or ever.”

Sure, that makes sense. He didn’t agree with it so he signed it?

I have an idea, the next time a credit card company tries to raise your interest rate because you signed that they had the right to do so, claim the Van Jones defense. “I’m sorry, <insert least favorite credit card company here>, but I don’t agree with that even though I signed it, so you can’t change my rate.”

Van Jones still has yet to address his communist background, his crusade to free convicted communist cop killer Mumia Abu-Jamal, his assertations that “the white environmentalists are essentially steering poison into the people of color communities,” his assertations about the “people who come here from all around the world who we’re willing to have out in the field, with poison being sprayed on them, poison being sprayed on them because we have the wrong agricultural system,” and his mantra that we need a whole new political system. However, I will give him one bit of credit… he did apologize for calling Republicans “a – – holes.”

From the world of private investigator Chase Michael DeBarlo:

Tanner’s Bar and Grille thundered with the thick groove of StoneWater’s heavy rhythm. The band was playing the second of a three night stint in Fallsbury and I was enjoying every moment as I leaned back in the rear corner booth.

The ambience was disrupted when Dennis Frohman slid into the seat before me. “Chase Michael DeBarlo, what a fine night, don’t ya think?”

I frowned. “It was.”

“Come on! You’ve got great music, great drinks, great women all around. What couldn’t you like?”

I permitted a resounding chorus of “Hero” pass around us, then I shrugged. “You seem chipper tonight.”

“Heck, yeah. I should be. I just finished this great deal that you’ll never believe.”

“I’m sure.”

“Yeah, so I bought this brand new yellow Camaro of this guy and I had it for about two weeks, ya know cruising around, doing my thing. Well, I run into this streak of bad luck and lost a few matches down at Lucky’s. Well, I can’t quite make the deal on the Camaro anymore which, you know, really sucks, but I returned it to the guy anyway. He says, ‘Hey, wait a minute, I got a signed contract.’ And so I tell him, ‘Hey, sorry, man, but I didn’t really agree with the whole deal anyway so here’s your car back!’ I got two weeks of a new Camaro, and a whole lot of fun to go with it, bro, for like nothin’ but gas money!”

I stared blankly at Dennis. “So tell me, was this guy about a medium build with short brown hair and a receding hair line?”

His eyes widened. “Yeah! Did you just do like a whole Sherlock Holmes thing on me?”

“No, but I figured the guy standing behind you was glaring at us for some reason. Seems he brought a couple bigger friends, too.”

Dennis bolted out of the seat and made for the rear of the building with the three men scrambling to catch up.