The Pageant Queen of Justice

When the Trump administration took back the White House from Biden, a bunch of folks I know expected the Department of Justice to come roaring out like a pack of bloodhounds on the scent—law officers in suits, talking tough and playing hardball, just like that old Law & Order: SVU show. I even joked they ought to install a gong behind the Attorney General’s desk so we could hear that dun-dun every time someone walked in with a sealed indictment.

But instead of Jack McCoy and a team of grim-faced prosecutors, we got Pam Bondi—a woman who seems to think a highlighter pen and a push-up bra are tools of the trade.

Now, Pam’s no stranger to courtrooms—she was Florida’s top legal dog for a while. But let’s be honest: her real courtroom experience looked more like a press conference than a prosecution.

She didn’t exactly battle corruption so much as dress it up and walk it down the runway. She smiles as sweet as sorghum and talks like a Southern belle who just caught her husband cheating but decided to forgive him at a country club luncheon.

Cousin Elmo—who mostly watches the news to keep track of who to distrust next—looked up from his Corn Nuts the day she got the nod and muttered, “Ain’t she the one who went after Big Pharma in Florida?”

“Yeah,” I said, “and the one who spent more time during the impeachment trial coordinating her wardrobe than coordinating legal strategy.”

Pam took over the DOJ as if she were hosting a makeover segment on morning television—out with the old, in with the camera-ready. Suddenly, the Justice Department had better lighting, fewer leaks, and a glam squad feel. Instead of the steely-eyed AG we expected, we got the prom queen.

Some say she’s tough. I say she’s slick.

She didn’t clean house so much as rearrange the furniture and throw a few folks out who didn’t match the new color palette. There’s a difference between justice and a purge, and Pam’s version feels more like a sorority house power play than a constitutional reckoning.

Sure, she’ll tell you they’re reviewing the matter. But when Pam says that, it sounds less like prosecutorial discretion and more like she’s deciding who gets cut from next week’s episode.

I’m no legal expert. But I can smell perfume politics from a mile off, and Bondi’s DOJ has all the scent of image management with a side of vengeance.

Maybe we didn’t get Law & Order. Perhaps we got Legally Blonde: Executive Branch Edition—complete with stilettos, soundbites, and subpoenas that never quite land.

Still, Cousin Elmo hasn’t yelled at the clouds in weeks. Now he yells at the TV, usually something like, “Why’s she dressed like she’s going to brunch?!”

So I guess you could say Pam’s DOJ is bringing change. Not the kind we expected—but change all the same.

And if nothing else, it’s got people paying attention, even if they’re mostly watching for the outfit.