American Jezebel Amanda Knox To Face Justice

“Five, three and one” is how Wendy Murphy, law professor and flamboyant TV talker, counted the preponderance of forensic and circumstantial evidence that had originally convicted America’s sweetheart, Amanda Knox, of murdering Briton Meredith Kercher, in Perugia, Italy, in November 2007.

In 2011, Knox’s subsequent 2009 conviction was overturned, due in no small part to a PR blitz mounted by the Knox clan and their Seattle-based publicist. A veritable media mafia thronged to put the Italian judicial system on trial for railroading their cherub.

Agitating for Amanda were mass murderer Hilary Clinton, corrupt King County Superior Court Judge Michael Heavey—he abused his office (my state; my taxes) to petition members of the Italian judiciary on behalf of Knox, in violation of Washington state’s Code of Judicial Conduct—Democratic Senator Maria Cantwell (she misspells her surname), ubiquitous tele-attorney Anne Bremner, public relations adviser David Marriott, and “48 Hours” correspondent Peter Van Sant, who had abandoned impartiality for outright advocacy.

Assisting them were our country’s national media, left and right, with the exception of Bill O’Reilly, former homicide prosecutor Kimberly Guilfoyle, and Jeanine Pirro. Fox News, MSNBC, CNN, CBS, ABC—all worked tirelessly for the attractive, white kids. Not that the unthinking Megyn Kelly, Shepard Smith, Wolf Blitzer, Piers Morgan, Dr. Drew, Oprah (on and on), gave the time of day to the victim’s family—but the Kerchers were too classy to partake in the circus created by the ugly Americans and their aides.

A studious disregard for facts saw Knox’s stalwart defenders stateside claiming she had been deprived of due process. In American (positive) law, procedural violations can get evidence of guilt—a bloodied knife or a smoking gun—barred from being presented at trial. More often than not, such procedural defaults are used to suppress immutable physical facts, thus serving to subvert the spirit of the (natural) law and justice.

Yes, another of our media’s collective moos was that, not being American, Italian justice was simply backward.

Granted, when Wendy Murphy gets something right it is only by accident. Remarkably, however, Murphy stumbled upon the truth here, by parroting the powerful forensic and circumstantial evidence in the Knox case, as reported by the brave Barbie Latza Nadeau, a “Newsweek” and “Daily Beast” correspondent based in Rome, and The Times of London.

As to Murphy’s aforementioned evidential number “five”: Five spots of blood were harvested from the apartment where Meredith Kircher was murdered. More key forensic evidence against Knox included her footprint in blood outside Kercher’s room. Traces of Knox’s DNA and Kercher’s blood commingled on the fixtures in the bathroom the girls shared, “on doorjambs and walls,” to be precise. And a knife found in Sollecito’s apartment bore Knox’s DNA on the handle and Kercher’s DNA in a groove on the blade.

“You cannot explain that away innocently,” protested Murphy, who was one of the few expert bobble-heads on American TV not cheering for the butcher of Perugia. Knox and Raffaele Sollecito, the accomplice-cum-lover, had not lived at the scene of the crime for weeks. “No blood had been there [prior]. No mixture has an innocent explanation.”

As to evidential number “three”: Three different stories about her whereabouts on the night of the murder were spun by Knox, whom a professor of criminology at Birmingham City University—a top expert on sociopathic killers—had characterized as “vulgar and vain to the point of narcissism”; a woman “disturbingly self- and sex obsessed.”

But number 1, in Murphy’s book, or so she told CNN’s Erin Burnett, was the following:

[Knox] falsely accused Patrick Lumumba, an innocent black man she had worked for. She knew he was innocent. She let him rot in jail, falsely accusing him of the crime until he could prove he wasn’t even there. That’s the kind of person [Knox] is. … What kind of person does that? The same kind of person who could kill a human being.

Actually, after attempting in vain to implicate Lumumba, Knox went on to perjure herself and frame the smitten Sollecito in the murder. As did she scream police brutality. She had been coerced into incriminating admissions, crowed Knox. When asked to identify the Italian tormentor who, allegedly, had slapped her during the interrogation, Knox fell silent.

America’s angelic O.J. was freed in 2011. Knox returned to Washington State to a hero’s welcome and has since committed her vomitous prose to a book. Considering public philistinism, the book should be a hit.

This Tuesday came good news, courtesy of the Italian Supreme Court. Knox will be retried in an appellate court, in Florence, likely in absentia.

You’ve seen Jodi Arias—another American female sociopath currently on trial for butchering a boyfriend—sing, do tantric yoga, giggle and chant to herself sotto voce, alone in the interrogation room. Arias’s moral solipsism and self-adoration are nothing as compared to the kinky canoodling Knox and her paramour commenced, outside the house of horrors in which Meredith’s body lay on that fateful day. The English girl, whose throat had been slit, expired in slow agony.

Oblivious to the cameras—or perhaps for them—Amanda Knox and Raffaele Sollecito exchanged a slow, sensual kiss in full view of world media. The sickening scene conjured the climactic moment in the film noir “The Comfort of Strangers.”

Christopher Walken and Helen Mirren play an older couple (Robert and Caroline) who live in a palazzo in Venice. They gain the trust of the vacationing Mary and Colin (played by the late Natasha Richardson and Rupert Everett), a young English couple. As Colin sips a cocktail with Robert at the latter’s Venetian residence, Robert suddenly and swiftly (as planned) moves to cut Colin’s throat. He then steps over his gurgling victim and the gushing blood to engage in frenzied sex with his eager wife Caroline.

The two had fulfilled a shared fantasy.

It’s time for Amanda, America’s Janus-faced Jezebel, to face justice for acting out her fantasy.