What is the sound of Dead Meat?The sound of silence.
And so after weeks of former Gov. Rod Blagojevich promising to take the stand and declare his innocence, his attorney expressed the view that Dead Meat will keep his mouth shut.
"I think he should not testify because I do not think the government proved their case at all," said veteran criminal lawyer Sam Adam Sr., representing the governor in his federal corruption case.
But hasn't Blago already proved the government's case, in his own voice on those (bleeping) golden federal wiretaps?
What is more likely is that Adam doesn't relish the idea of his client impaling himself on the federal spit before enthusiastically flipping the switch on his own rotisserie.
If Dead Meat takes the stand, Blagojevich would be asked questions about all those federal tapes. These wouldn't be softball questions from TV personalities giddy about his circus freak act, like the harpies from "The View" who begged to touch his wondrous hair.
Instead, Blagojevich would be asked things like: What exactly did you mean when you said you wanted to "(bleep)" the people of Illinois?
The FBI recording was made on Election Day in 2008, the day Barack Obama won the presidency. That's the day Blagojevich was recorded venting his frustrations about public service.
"Now is the time to put my (bleeping) children and my wife first for a change," Blagojevich said, ripping on what he considered to be unappreciative voters.
"I (bleeping) busted my ass. I gave your (bleeping) baby health care. ... What do I get for that? Only 13 percent of you think I'm doing a good job, so (bleep) all of you," he said.
Funny thing about folks who register to vote. They're the same bleeping people who sit on juries.
So if Blagojevich took the stand, federal prosecutors Reid Schar, Christopher Niewoehner or Carrie Hamilton would ask him, again and again, whom he meant when he said "(bleep) all of you," and the jury would see him squirm in his chair.
He wasn't squirming exactly on Tuesday, as brother Rob Blagojevich testified in his own defense, but he sure wasn't comfortable.
Blagojevich is always animated, twitchy, desperately grabbing any hand within reach, politicking even in the federal cafeteria. But on Tuesday there was something about his eyes. They were hard and glittery.
His wife, Patti, sat in the first row of the courtroom gallery, knitting her "prayer shawl" while chatting with a famed columnist from New York. Patti did the slip-stitch and pass or some other knitting term I don't how to use.
It was part of the stage show. And the jury didn't miss it.
Sitting a few rows behind her, as Patti played the Northwest Side Girl From the Neighborhood, I half expected she'd call the jurors over to her metaphoric front porch and offer them coffee and some of her homemade plum kolachkes.
At the end of Rob's testimony, the lawyers went over for a sidebar with U.S. District Judge James Zagel, and the white noise machine was turned on. By then the rumor was going through the courtroom among all the reporters that Dead Meat would not put on a case at all.
Rod chatted with one of his lawyers. But his brother, Rob, sat behind them, alone at his own table, staring into space, his index finger holding his temple, pressing it there, as if to hold the memory of his mother's deathbed plea for the brothers to stick together.