Back in high school, I knew a kid by the name of Brian Iorio. Brian was a decent enough sort in most contexts, but he became a bit of a hard case to deal with when any amount of competition was involved. He was a fairly sore winner, with a tendency to gloat over victories but was an even poorer loser, often getting worked up over the perceived failings of teammates.
This competitive spirit carried over into gym class. We’ve all encountered “gym jocks” – those who take games of dodgeball a little too seriously, who seem to have internalized the rules to every cockamamie activity the phys. ed. teachers could dream up and expound upon them at length. Brian transcended this, as he actually was an athlete, but he still could have worn the label of “gym jock” fairly credibly.
However, one particular occurrence typified Brian and coined the phrase, at least in my head, “to pull an Iorio”.
We were playing volleyball in gym and Brian was saddled with a team of girls that didn’t exactly share Brian’s love of victory, particularly when it came to a stupid game of volleyball. Brian eventually got so fed up with his team’s lack of interest and effort that he angrily yelled out “Come on!” after a missed serve. He furiously grabbed the ball and proceeded to spike it into the floor in front of himself with all his might. On the follow-through, his head continued towards the floor. The ball rebounded with startling speed and smacked Brian directly in the forehead, sending him reeling onto his rear end. The entire gymnasium collapsed in laughter and Brian sheepishly retrieved his spiked ball and resumed his game of volleyball, albeit with considerably less fervor. Thus was born the phrase, which became synonymous with unwittingly pursuing one’s own destruction or degradation.
I tell you this story because, well, it looks as if the Supreme Court may have pulled an “Iorio” on one of its own justices. It seems as though Justice Souter has a rather nice tract of land back home in New Hampshire that developers have been eying rather hungrily. Based upon the Kelo decision of this week (in which Souter ruled with the majority), well, I’ll let the press release speak for itself:
On Monday June 27, Logan Darrow Clements, faxed a request to Chip Meany the code enforcement officer of the Towne of Weare, New Hampshire seeking to start the application process to build a hotel on 34 Cilley Hill Road. This is the present location of Mr. Souter’s home.
Clements, CEO of Freestar Media, LLC, points out that the City of Weare will certainly gain greater tax revenue and economic benefits with a hotel on 34 Cilley Hill Road than allowing Mr. Souter to own the land.
The proposed development, called “The Lost Liberty Hotel” will feature the “Just Desserts Cafe” and include a museum, open to the public, featuring a permanent exhibit on the loss of freedom in America. Instead of a Gideon’s Bible each guest will receive a free copy of Ayn Rand’s novel “Atlas Shrugged.”
Clements indicated that the hotel must be built on this particular piece of land because it is a unique site being the home of someone largely responsible for destroying property rights for all Americans.
“This is not a prank” said Clements, “The Towne of Weare has five people on the Board of Selectmen. If three of them vote to use the power of eminent domain to take this land from Mr. Souter we can begin our hotel development.”
Clements’ plan is to raise investment capital from wealthy pro-liberty investors and draw up architectural plans. These plans would then be used to raise investment capital for the project. Clements hopes that regular customers of the hotel might include supporters of the Institute For Justice and participants in the Free State Project among others.
Heh. “Just desserts”, indeed.
Oh, and Brian, if you’re out there and you’re reading this, well, sorry for using what was probably a painful and traumatic childhood experience as the starting point for a humorous turn of phrase. I dread to know what others may have cooked up that would consist in “pulling a Stewart”…
