A federal judge has ruled that the National Park Service cannot prevent a protest group from flying an “86-47” flag near the National Mall, finding the display does not constitute a threat to President Trump’s life. The judge determined that while “86” can sometimes mean “to kill,” its more common usage, particularly in the context of protests calling for impeachment and “removal,” signifies being “thrown out” or no longer available. This decision, which temporarily restricts the NPS from removing the flags, highlights the delicate balance between protected political speech and unlawful threats. The ruling comes amid heightened concerns about political violence and a separate federal prosecution of former FBI Director James Comey over the same numerical phrase.

Read the original article here

The Trump administration has recently faced a significant legal setback in Washington D.C. concerning the use of an “86-47” flag, a ruling that underscores a pattern of judicial challenges to the administration’s actions. It seems the administration’s legal teams have been consistently encountering swift and unanimous rejections from federal judges, almost as if they’re fast-tracked for denial. This isn’t exactly a new phenomenon; the administration has a documented history of treating executive orders with a surprising lack of formality, akin to unedited social media posts. Consequently, they often appear bewildered when the courts step in to remind them that established laws and constitutional principles are very much in play.

In this particular case, the Department of Justice reportedly attempted to leverage a past incident involving former FBI Director James Comey, specifically his mention of “86-47” in relation to seashells, as a precedent to justify silencing a protest flag. However, a federal judge unequivocally dismissed this argument, stating, in essence, that such a tactic is incompatible with the First Amendment’s protections. This situation adds to an already lengthy list of legal defeats for the Trump administration, highlighting a consistent trend of losing in courtrooms across various matters.

It appears that the only judicial bodies consistently siding with the administration have been the Supreme Court, particularly those justices appointed by Trump himself. This raises questions about the broader impartiality of the judicial system when it comes to the administration’s initiatives. The core issue, however, is that even a single successful legal challenge can significantly influence the perception and handling of other ongoing cases. This dynamic means that a win, however small, can have a ripple effect.

The phrase “86-47” itself, and its interpretation, has become a focal point. Some have humorously suggested its use in protest, perhaps accompanied by gestures, emphasizing the potential for symbolic defiance. The idea of expanding this to include other numerical combinations like “2547” also emerges, reflecting a desire to find and utilize new forms of expression. This contrasts sharply with the administration’s apparent tolerance for symbols and imagery that are perceived as inflammatory or divisive, such as certain flags, references to the January 6th events, or truck stickers depicting President Biden in compromising positions.

The attempts to interpret “86” as a direct call for assassination are demonstrably flawed. The common understanding of “86” in contexts like restaurant operations simply means to “get rid of” or remove something from availability. When applied to politics, as in “86-47,” it can readily be interpreted as advocating for Trump’s removal from office or impeachment, rather than inciting violence. This interpretation makes the administration’s stance seem inconsistent, especially when juxtaposed with their approach to other potentially inciting speech.

The selective enforcement of rules and principles is a particularly glaring aspect of these legal battles. If “86” is interpreted as a threat worthy of legal action, then Trump’s own rhetoric, such as his speech leading to the Capitol insurrection, should logically face even greater scrutiny. The apparent inconsistency raises significant eyebrows, regardless of political affiliations. This points to a broader strategy where the administration may not be concerned with winning every case outright, but rather with using the legal process to its advantage, even in defeat.

The administration’s approach seems to involve a tactic of causing perceived enemies to expend time, effort, and financial resources on what may be straightforward legal wins for the opposition. By the time these cases are resolved, the administration’s operatives may have already moved on to other controversial actions. This “flooding the field” strategy, reminiscent of Nixon-era tactics and amplified by individuals like Steve Bannon and Trump’s mentor Roy Cohn, aims to overwhelm and destabilize. The hope is that such consistent legal losses will eventually lead to consequences for those involved in pursuing these questionable legal strategies.

The administration’s base, it’s argued, often remains insulated from the details of these legal defeats. They are fed a narrative of constant victory, and the belief that their perceived special status, often tied to racial identity, shields them from accountability. This lack of transparency and the creation of an alternative reality allows them to persist in their beliefs, regardless of the actual outcomes. The administration doesn’t seem to operate under the constraint of established laws, and when faced with legal setbacks, they appear to simply move on to the next initiative.

There’s a strong undercurrent suggesting that the administration operates under the delusion that executive orders are akin to royal decrees rather than directives for the executive branch. The belief that the President controls the judicial and legislative branches, even indirectly through loyalists, is a dangerous misinterpretation of American governance. In the 250 years preceding Trump’s presidency, the three branches of government functioned as checks and balances. Now, there’s a perception that this equilibrium has been intentionally disrupted, leading to chaos and overburdened court systems.

The possibility of using artificial intelligence to draft executive orders, and the subsequent legal challenges that would likely arise from such a move, is a darkly humorous prospect. It underscores the administration’s perceived lack of qualification and their tendency towards “hysterically inept” actions, a characteristic seen as no worse than other politically charged slogans. The implication is that even advanced technology would not elevate the quality of their legally questionable directives.

The ultimate goal for this administration, some observers believe, is not necessarily to uphold laws but to disrupt and inconvenience, to “fuck with people.” The legal process becomes a tool to exhaust opponents, regardless of the final verdict. The focus on winning just one case is a critical point, as a single victory could legitimize their approach and embolden further actions. This suggests a long-term strategy of attrition, where repeated legal challenges, even if ultimately unsuccessful, serve a strategic purpose.

Ultimately, the “86-47” flag case represents more than just a singular legal loss. It’s a symptom of a broader pattern of legal challenges, a perceived disregard for constitutional norms, and a strategic approach to governance that prioritizes disruption and inconvenience over adherence to established legal frameworks. The courts, it seems, are serving as a crucial bulwark against these actions, consistently reminding the administration that the rule of law, not the whim of a president, governs the nation.