Joe Arpaio; A presidential pardon for the man who reigned with prejudice

Put the first and second fingers of your right hand together. Firmly together. As if they’re stuck together. See that? That’s how me and Joe Arpaio used to be: Closerthanthis, as they say in the best supermarket tabloid magazines.

Now, to be perfectly honest with you, I never actually met the Arizona Sheriff of Maricopa County. It just felt as if I had, because for a while there, maybe 10 or more years ago, he was a classic recurring interviewee on drivetime programmes in Ireland. Great talker who knew he was a great talker. Unexpected points being made. Outrageous points, and we’ll come back to that. But of course the interviewer would always strive for balance by putting the negative questions to Joe about his thesis.

The phraseology was a dead giveaway. Joe would grind to a halt, having made a particular point, maybe about how he dresses criminals in the prison he runs. He dresses them in pink underwear. The men, anyway. Not sure about the underthings he inflicts on his female prisoners. The men aren’t allowed to wear normal tighty whities. They have to wear tighty pinkies, in order to set them on the path of rectitude and redemption. As you know, pink underwear has a great track record in making evildoers see the error of their ways and turn towards reformation and redemption.