Right Back Atcha, Babs

Barbara Amiel, it seems, cannot leave bad enough alone. This morning on her way into the courthouse, she explained her startling behaviour of yesterday by saying her remarks were made in a private conversation with her stepdaughter, and that those remarks were about “specific journalists” who “know who they are.” Amiel’s mind mustn’t be a terribly pleasant locale, what with all those vermin and sluts who know who they are plaguing her waking hours. Still, despite all the ready-made excuses (sleeplessness, concerns about rogue jurors) paraded out by her legion of apologists (Steyn, Blatchford et al.), isn’t there a simpler explanation? And aren’t simpler explanations, per Occam’s razor, always best? Amiel, plagued by demons of her own making, made a series of inexcusably toxic remarks (the word “vermin” redolent of Nazi lexicon) that would have, had the tables been turned, brought the wrath of a thousand writs. So, might we make a modest proposal: that the “slut” in question—an unnamed CBC TV producer—find herself a libel lawyer and get cracking on an action of her own. After all, turnabout is fair play.