When a trial is built upon statements made by an accused man in his own memoir, thirty years after the event, you are not witnessing justice; you are witnessing performance art.
The news that Duane “Keffe D” Davis is finally going on trial—nearly thirty years after Tupac Shakur was shot in Las Vegas—is less a moment of justice and more an exhausting, overdue audit.
The theater of modern American politics has become less about policy architecture and more about stagecraft—a series of carefully managed, brightly lit vignettes designed to…