Prof. Berman (here and here) discusses a case where a short defendant was sentenced to probation instead of prison because, the judge said, the defendant's small stature would make him particularly vulnerable to assault in prison. As the professor notes, the decision has generated considerable commentary and controversy.

I've previously addressed the issue of sentencing decisions taking into account such factors in this post. There I was concerned mainly with a defendant's argument that she was "too pretty for prison," but I think the same considerations apply here. Thanks to PG for reminding me of my own old post. So, I agree it's a serious issue, although I fear we won't be able to calmly discuss it over the demagogic hyperventilations we're likely to hear.

Anyway, it being a Friday before a long holiday weekend, and not taking anything away from the seriousness of the case, the situation really is ripe for a song parody. Prof. Berman as much as called me out by suggesting the title "Short People Got No Prison," based on the Randy Newman classic "Short People." Here's my offering:

Short people got no prison
Short people got no prison
Short people got no prison
To serve.

The little judge
With his little brain
Wants to spare short people
Big House pain.
They get little slaps
On their little wrists,
And the big D.A.
Is a little pissed.

We don't want no short people
We don't want no short people
We don't want no short people
In jail.

"Short people just aren't the same as you and I
(A fool such as I)
If we put 'em in prison they will surely die
(It's a rough old world)."

Short people got nobody
Short people got nobody
Short people got nobody
To love.

They got little hearts
With great big aches,
They're easy to miss
In prison breaks.
Now being short
Might become appealing,
Just how tall
Are Lay and Skilling?
The judge deserves
A little Nobel
For sparing short people
A lot of hell.
They got little chance
Of living long,
They might not even
Survive this song.

Well, we don't want no short people
We don't want no short people
We don't want no short people
In jail.

Via NRO's The Corner, I see this press release from Sen. Chuck Grassley (R-IA) in response to the pending immigration bill. Grassley lists his "top ten flaws" with the language of the proposal. I'm trying to avoid most discussion of the immigration issue (my previous comment is here) because I think people are talking past each other and I certainly can't offer any wise solutions. But one item on Grassley's list struck me, and I thought it was worth sharing: "Under the bill, illegal aliens get an option to only have to pay three of their last five years in back taxes. . . . The bill also makes the IRS prove that illegal aliens have paid their back taxes [as opposed to putting the burden on the taxpayer]." Yeah, I realize that something is better than nothing. But "nothing" is pretty close to what they're going to get with this scheme. And can't we at least pretend that we're attaching some meaningful conditions to amnesty?

I've been meaning to write this post for a while. I may be the last person my age who still buys compact discs. But I do. And not only that, I tend to buy a lot of "best of" albums. Less than a month into this blog's existence, I quoted the Bruce McCulloch line "Greatest Hits collections are for housewives and little girls." I guess now the little girls would have iPods and could make their own greatest hits sets. I'm not going to apologize. I'm a late-adopter. I like supporting the independent music store where I bought these. They serve the purpose. They're easy. Anyway, some brief reviews.

Wilco -- Kicking Television: Live in Chicago. I had heard some Wilco and liked it, but never enough to take a chance on an album. I liked Uncle Tupelo, and liked some of the early Wilco stuff in the alt-country vein. I was dubious as Wilco started to movie more into the alternative, electronic, layered stuff. It's musically interesting, but busier than I like. But I found the story behind Yankee Hotel Foxtrot fascinating, and enjoyed the clips I heard when it was released. I kind of get the feeling that Wilco is one of those bands you either really dig or don't care for at all. I can't say this album is in heavy rotation, and it's never been in my car stereo. But I really like "I'm the Man Who Loves You" and "I Am Trying to Break Your Heart" and "Shot in the Arm." Those are all on the first disc of this two-disc set, so I play that cd from time to time. I don't know that anything is gained by the live format. The crowd seems into it, but I'm not wowed by the energy. The band goes into some jam-ish flights of fancy that seem to go over well. Not having any studio albums, I can't say if those only come out in concert. But it's not distracting or overdone -- I don't have the listening equivalent of thinking this solo is a good time to get another beer. I feel pretty content with this as my only Wilco album. I like it enough, and don't regret it, but I don't have any urge to go buy more albums.

Nina Simone -- Anthology. Nina Simone was a hell of a singer. To call her a jazz singer unfairly limits her; she could sing anything. This collection spans her whole career and includes some very different songs Simone still manages to make her own. She covers The Beatles' "Here Comes the Sun," The Animals' "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood," Hall & Oates's "Rich Girl" (!), the Bee Gees' "To Love Somebody," and Ike & Tina's "Funkier Than a Mosquito's Tweeter." You'd be forgiven for thinking they're Simone originals. But Nina Simone is at her best giving voice to racial inequality. (She eventually moved from the United States in an effort to escape racism.) This collection is loaded, rightly, with Simone's songs about being, to quote one, "Young, Gifted, and Black." That song, plus "I Loves You Porgy" and "Strange Fruit" (a metaphor for lynching victims hanging from trees) are standouts in that theme. "Mississippi Goddam" deserves its own mention. It's a quite catchy castigation of the Deep South in the civil rights era: "Alabama's gotten me so upset/ Tennessee made me lose my rest/ And everybody knows about Mississippi Goddam." And there's some wonderful soul and blues music here, too: "I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl" and "Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out" are two of my favorites, but there are plenty to choose from. I also enjoy the extended version of "Sinnerman" avilable here. You might recognize it from multiple movie soundtracks. It's hypnotic, and Simone casts her spell ably. She's an enthralling singer. I often put this one on as background music, and nevertheless find myself caught up in the songs. This album is multi-faceted enough and broad enough that I don't think I'll buy another Nina Simone album, but it might be worth it if I can find another collection without a lot of overlap.

Sam Cooke -- Portrait of a Legend 1951-1964. Is Sam Cooke a male, R&B Nina Simone? That's a too-rough shorthand, but I could make that argument. Cooke didn't live long enough -- he died in a weird incident with a hotel manager. But in his brief career, he did gospel, blues, R&B, soul, and some great pop hits. I liked this collection for three reasons. First, it was a single disc, and I didn't really think I needed more than that for Sam Cooke. Second, it covers his whole career and all those genres, including the early gospel work and the later love songs. Third, it has the senselessly hard-to-find "A Change is Gonna Come," maybe Cooke's best song. (You can hear it on the Malcolm X soundtrack: "I was born by the river in a little tent/ Oh and just like the river I been running ever since/ It's been a long, a long time coming but I know/ A change gonna come....") I'll start watching "American Idol" if anyone nowadays can sing "You Send Me" or "Chain Gang" with half the passion and soul of Sam Cooke. My favorites are the lighter dancing tunes like "Twistin' the Night Away," "Cupid," "Having a Party," "Wonderful World" (although it's impossible to hear without seeing Bluto in the cafeteria line in Animal House), and "Another Saturday Night" (the Cat Stevens version is a pale imitation). He wrote a lot of these songs, too. It's sad to think of what Cooke could have done with more time. But these are some fun tunes, some powerful tunes, some passionate tunes. I highly recommend this album.

Old 97's -- Alive and Wired. The Old 97's are a rocking-and-rolling alt-country band, I suppose. They're from Texas, and you can hear the country roots and influences, but a lot of their songs are super-catchy with pop-song hooks. I'm not an expert, and they're somewhat hard to categorize (not that this is a negative), but you can listen to samples at the linked page and get a good idea about them. Like Wilco, I had heard a little from Old 97's and liked it. But wasn't ready to buy out the store. So I was quite pleased when this live double album came out last year. The word is that an Old 97's Greatest Hits album is coming out later this summer. I like them enough based on the live album to check that one out, but if the live album had come second, I might have stupidly skipped it. But these guys clearly kick ass live. Unlike the Wilco live album, this one sounds like it was recorded in a basement, and the crowd is part of the show. They're energetic and enthusiastic, and the band goes all out for them. A lot of these songs sound like they were written specifically to be played live. I have a lot of live albums. Sometimes they're just poor man's greatest hits collections (minus, of course, the one or two songs you really want to hear and plus "one from our next album!"). But the best of them (a) make you feel like you were at the show, and (b) make you want to actually be at the next one. This is the best kind of live album, and certainly one of the best I own. (Maybe that will be another post sometime.) It's in heavy rotation, especially disc one. I love every song on that disc, especially the drunken bar hookup tune "Barrier Reef," the drunken concert hookup tune "Melt Show," the guy-leaving breakup tune "W. Tx. Teardrops," and the girl-leaving breakup tune "Lonely Holiday." I'm having some fun, of course; not all the songs fit those pigeonholes. But there's a lot of territory to mine there, and the Old 97's do it well. This album is a rollicking good time, full of songs that you'll be happy to have stuck in your head. It's the one album on this list that makes me seriously think about buying more from the band.

UPDATE: In the comments, Dylan asked about the meaning of the song "Barrier Reef." I linked to the lyrics on the Old 97's web site above. It's basically about a couple meeting and dancing and drinking in a bar, and then retiring to the singer's car for further activities, which prove disappointing. The chorus goes, "What's so great about the Barrier Reef?/ What's so fine about art?/ What's so good about a Good Times van/ When you're working on a broken, working on a broken, working on a broken man." The joke is obviously about the Great Barrier Reef and "fine art." There actually was such a thing as a "Good Times van." See this explanation from the band (although I thought it was a Chevy.) Picture what my friends and I always used to call "a kidnapper van," or maybe the Mystery Machine. They were often psychadelically-colored monstrosities. On one fender the words "Good Times" appeared. My high school principal had one -- more than fifteen years after they went out of style (if they were ever in style). His was brown and red and yellow. I think my eyes are permanently seared. Anyway, that's what makes Dylan's favorite line ("She said, 'Do you have a car,' and I said, 'Do I have a car?'" -- and I agree, the way he sings it is hilarious) even better. Not only does he have a car, he has a Good Times van! It was designed for these kind of hookups! It's probably got burgundy shag carpet in the back! But, all is not bliss: "My heart wasn't in it, not for one single minute/ I went through the motions with her, her on top and me on liquor/ Didn't do no good, well, I didn't think it would." So either he wasn't that in to her, or he suffered from what is sometimes known as "whiskey dick." So, indeed, what's so good about a Good Times van if it didn't do no good? Anyway, that's my take on the lyrics to "Barrier Reef."

The Band -- Rock of Ages. The reason I bought this one is a little different from the other titles in this post. I've often mentioned how much I like The Band, and how influential I think they were. I think The Band was one of the ten best, and most important, American rock bands ever. I seriously considered becoming a Band completist. I have the classic final concert album The Last Waltz, the stellar second album The Band, and the Greatest Hits album. I bought those over several years and really like them all. Then they had to come out with a six-disc box set. I almost bought it, and probably would have if I didn't have several other albums. But the box set would have been all I needed; it's pretty comprehensive. Eventually I decided that the concert album Rock of Ages would fill in the gaps I had, more or less. The box set has outtakes and unreleased songs, but I don't feel like I'm missing much. Rock of Ages has very nice versions of The Band's best-known songs, "The Weight," "Up on Cripple Creek," and "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down." It has a pulsating version of a Marvin Gaye tune, "Don't Do It," which was on an older greatest hits set, but missed the cut on the reissued, newfangled greatest hits package. There are several tracks with guest Bob Dylan (The Band used to be Dylan's backing band when he first went electric) and a brilliant organ solo from Garth Hudson ("The Genetic Method"). It's a solid outing, but of course falls short of The Last Waltz, the definitive concert album. Still, it had some songs I wanted, and serves as a handy best-of proxy when I don't feel like skipping through the lesser lights on the Greatest Hits. I really need to dig out the old greatest hits cd I have somewhere, The Best of the Band. Okay. So what if you were approaching The Band the way I was with these other artists? Seriously, if you were committed to only buying as little as possible, I'd tell you to buy the old Best Of used from Amazon, and it will be the best $0.54 you ever spend. The Last Waltz is an amazing document, but there are so many guest artists and extra musicians that I can't really say it's the best introduction to The Band. I think Rock of Ages is a good choice if you want a solid one-album overview. The reissued, remastered two-disc set covers the biggest hits, highlights the Dylan connection, pulls the best tunes from the first two (and best) studio albums (the aforementioned The Band and their debut, Music From Big Pink), and adds some concert flavor, giving some hints of what would come during The Last Waltz.

So, that's what I've bought recently. In most cases, I was looking for the basics from an artist, without having to buy half that artist's catalog in search of a few tunes, and without feeling I needed to become an expert. I feel I succeeded. Two requests. First, if you're going to comment with "I buy CDs too!" to prove I'm not really the only one, tell us what you've bought lately and give us a recommendation. Second, check out Pandora (thanks to Slate's Jacob Weisberg for the pointer). Pandora has some system for taking the music you like and creating an online radio station of similar music. (It's not like Amazon's "people who bought this also liked..."; it's based on the music itself, like instruments and keys and such.) You can tailor it, change how often it plays each song, and set up other "stations" for different styles. Pretty cool.

Some items not worth a full post.

1. Several blogs had nice remembrances of Senior Third Circuit Judge Edward Becker. I think the most links are available from Underneath Their Robes here. I didn't know the man, but admired him as much as any judge out there, and am sorry to hear of his death this weekend. Back when I was applying for clerkships, I whittled my application list down to just the judges I wanted to work for in the cities I wanted to work in. (There was something of a sliding scale, if one factor was considerably better than the other.) I think I applied to about thirty-five judges. Anyway, I only applied to a couple of senior judges, because you never know what you're going to get with them. One was the late Richard Arnold, whom I discussed after he died. The other was Becker, because I knew a year with him would be about as good as it got. All the nice things I've heard in the tributes to him this week confirmed that hunch. So, R.I.P. Judge Becker, and best wishes to his family, friends, and many admirers.

2. Prof. Kerr, first here and then here, notes that Chief Justice Roberts has written a few unanimous opinions already, and casts about for a catchy name for such opinions. He settles on ROUT: Roberts Opinion for a Unanimous Tribunal. I don't know. To me, "rout" implies that he obliterated any dissenting voices by the power of his logic and rhetoric, when in fact the Justices already agree on the essentials of the case. I certainly don't get the sense that Roberts is bullying or arm-twisting his colleagues like Chief Justice Warren reportedly did, for the sake of unanimity. Yes, Roberts avoids muddle and smoothes the edges and obviously writes opinions with which the other Justices are comfortable. But I think "rout" implies they're not happy about it. I guess "ROUT" is fine for what it is, though, and better than what I would have suggested. I would have suggested "URO" for Unanimous Roberts Opinion, pronounced like the currency euro. And, like the euro money, a URO is the product of consensus, common interests, and agreement in the best unified course. Okay, that's reading way, way too much into this. I think we'll see fewer ROUTs as the Term winds down, and, from one nerd to another, I think this is far too "inside baseball" to catch on very widely. Still, I share Prof. Kerr's admiration for the Chief's early work. As I noted earlier in the Term, I think Roberts is pretty Cracker Jack.

3. I'm glad I'm not the only one freaked out by Purity Balls. On the other hand, wouldn't "Purity Balls" make a great name for a porn star?

4. I watched the season finale of "24" tonight. I won't spoil it for those of you who have yet to experience it. As I've mentioned, this was the first season I watched Keifer's unique brand of law enforcement. I gather that plenty of people love the show, but I found it to be too ridiculous to watch with a straight face. And I watch enough intentional comedies that I don't need to waste my time on this joke of a show. Well, maybe that's a little harsh. I guess it's adequate. Bursting with adequatulence. Keifer can spend the next few years astonishing the world with more feats of adequataqaticism, but I won't be there.

5. Prof. Rappaport at The Right Coast suggests that there's "a clear way to plug these leaks" about national security information: subpoena reporters and jail them if they don't spill their sources. I think a widespread policy of going after reporters would lead courts to firmly establish a constitutional reporter's privilege. Prof. Rappaport mentions this, but doesn't think it's too likely. I think courts have been reluctant to tilt the field too far in favor of reporters, but part of the reason for this is how rare it is for reporters to go to jail for sources. A widespread policy would change the balance of competing interests. A systematic prosecutorial attempt to plug all leaks would, by definition, create greater risks to a free press than the occasional case we see now. I think courts would react differently under such a regime.

Also, Prof. Rappaport thinks prosecutors can go after only "serious leaks." At the same time, he "recognize[s] that leaks have their place" and can, in some cases, be a public good. But isn't it usually the most "serious" leaks that are the ones the public most needs to know about? Isn't he saying that it's ok to leak as long as it's not something worth leaking, but that only when it's really vital, then we should prevent the leak? Plus, locking up reporters for "un-serious" leaks would have a chilling effect, because they would be nervous about crossing some imaginary line of seriousness (and who draws that line?). I'm not saying there's not a better way to strike the balance, and I think some leakers should be punished (while some are genuine "whistleblowers" and shouldn't be). But I don't think an FBI raid on the New York Times is the way to go.

6. ESPN magazine has a feature where they ask questions of an athlete, then pose the same questions to a teammate and the player's wife/girlfriend, to see who knows the athlete better. It's usually questions like favorite food, nickname, that kind of thing. The latest issue put Astros pitcher Brad Lidge on the spot. One of the questions was, "Favorite tv show?" Brad said, "Anything on the History Channel." His teammate said, "Anything on the History Channel." Ding, ding! His wife answered, "'American Idol.' We plan our whole day around it." Now, I see two possibilities. Either Lidge doesn't want his teammates to know he's an "Idol" fan, or he's pretty successfully fooled his wife into thinking he's way more into "Idol" than he really is. Either way, I find that funny.

7. The other night, I was flipping around the tv before staggering to bed, and I ran across something amazing and incredible. There's a music channel called Fuse. It shows videos and concerts and such. They have this show called, I kid you not, "Pants-Off Dance-Off." It has regular people taking their clothes off while dancing to current music videos. They get down to their underwear; anything beyond that is blurred. Viewers vote for daily and weekly winners. I'll be charitable and say that most of the people I saw probably couldn't make a living either taking their clothes off or dancing, although there are a few attractive contestants (and a few good dancers, even though it's hard to keep the beat while you pull off tight jeans). It was so strange it may be beyond comment. I'm sure it says something about America, but I'll be damned if I can figure it out. Well, I will say a few things. First, the show was apparently conceived by the same guy who created VH1's "Pop-Up Video" (Tad Low), so his star in the cultural firmament is secure. And this show has, in my opinion, the best title ever. I mean, come on: "Pants-Off Dance-Off"! And, it makes me laugh to imagine Dick Clark floating this as the first concept for "American Bandstand." Also, back then, people were scandalized by the thought of seeing Elvis Presley's clothed hips on television. Let's all salute the March of Progress!

I promise I haven't quit blogging. I just don't have anything to write about. Feel free to suggest something, by the way -- why should I have to do all the work here?!

Anyway, I've spent a lot of time today reading about horses, after Barbaro's terrible injury yesterday during the Preakness. I don't follow horse racing too closely. I guess it's like the Olympics: I pay attention during Triple Crown season and then forget about it. I found this very good "Texas Monthly" story about the death of super-stallion Alydar. Investigators later discovered evidence indicating Alydar was probably murdered for insurance money. It reminded me of the sad death of Pie-O-My in one of the all-time best "Sopranos" episodes.

There were a lot of references in Barbaro stories to other ill-fated horses like Go For Wand (pictures here) and Ruffian (semi-cheesy movie here). There's something uniquely tragic about a horse on the muscle, wanting to run, so full of adrenaline, not even knowing it's hurt, but just wanting to do what it's trained to do.

On the other hand, there's some uniquely amazing about a thoroughbred performing at its fullest potential. This is why Seabiscuit was such a hit. This is why Barbaro's injury was so disheartening. After his fantastic performance running away with the Kentucky Derby, he looked every bit the champion and a strong bet to be the first Triple Crown winner since 1978. Maybe he wouldn't have been one of the all-time greats, but he was undefeated before the Preakness and seemed to outclass any other three-year-olds running.

I'm sure that sooner or later, a horse will find that ephemeral combination of skill and luck and pull off a Triple Crown. But the farther we get away from the heydey of three Crown winners in six years in the mid-1970s, the less likely it seems. I am convinced we'll never see a horse like Secretariat, though. Maybe Man O' War was better overall, but we don't have the video to prove it. But Secretariat was the best in the biggest races.

If you feel bad about Barbaro, watch the tape of Secretariat's Triple Crown-clinching run in the 1973 Belmont Stakes. Here's a good version, although the background music gets a little loud at times. Every time I watch it, I get teary-eyed. I can't even imagine another athletic performance as dominating and thrilling. I know it's coming, but I still can't ward off the chills I get when the announcer says, "Secretariat is widening now! He is moving like a tremendous machine!" The "sport of kings" is too often dirty and depressing. But I watch Secretariat's brilliant run at Belmont and feel a little better about it. R.I.P Big Red, and good luck Barbaro.