We Filed Papers Today with the Second Circuit Court of Appeals. Here’s the update:
First, a Little Refresher:
The Department of Justice
Robbie Kaplan, the 5’1” nazi-fighting, landmark supreme court-winning, founder of the Time’s Up Defense Fund.
And . . .
Joshua Matz, who served as Impeachment Counsel to the House Judiciary Committee for the second Senate trial of President Trump—and as among counsel to the House Judiciary Committee for the first impeachment and trial of Trump.
The Highlights of the Case:
In my 2019 memoir, I talk about Trump raping me in a dressing room in Bergdorf’s. When the book is published, Trump tells the world that he doesn’t know me, never met me (though there’s a photo of us together), the rape never happened, and claims that I’m an operative of the Democratic Party.
I sue him for defamation on November 4th, 2019. All pretty clear so far, right?
Then on January 20, 2020 New York State Supreme Court Judge, Doris Ling Cohan, sets deadlines for discovery and orders Trump to provide a DNA sample to match against the unidentified male DNA on the dress I am wearing when he attacks me.
But when the deadline for giving his DNA sample arrives, Trump, who is running out of money to pay his losing lawyers, on September 8, 2020, throws the case to Bill Barr and the DOJ.
I wear my best Armani to Federal Court, and on, November 11th, 2020, Judge Lewis Kaplan tells the DOJ to butt out.
The DOJ appeals the decision to the Second Circuit. Tonight we file a brief —you can practically see flames shooting off it—arguing that the DOJ’s position in this case would dishonor the Office of the Presidency, and give succor to the view that our most powerful political leaders stand entirely above the law.
Thank you to the dazzling Kaplan, Hecker & Fink Carroll v Trump team: Robbie Kaplan, Joshua Matz, and Leah Litman! Here’s my statement:
“Trump has tried and failed repeatedly to get my lawsuit booted. Last fall, he had his Justice Department intervene and try to get it dismissed in federal court. He lost. Then, just a week before President Biden’s inauguration, Trump’s private lawyers and the DOJ joined forces to argue on appeal that when Trump called me a liar who was too unsightly to rape, he was somehow being presidential. This is offensive to me. It is offensive to sexual assault casualties everywhere. I hope that it is offensive to the Justice Department under President Biden. I am confident that the Second Circuit will make it clear that no president, including Donald Trump, can get away scot free with maliciously defaming a woman he sexually assaulted.”
When we file this brief, we file it for all women! We file it for every woman who’s been pinched, prodded, pushed against a wall, grabbed, groped, assaulted, and has spoken up only to be shamed, demeaned, disgraced, passed over for promotion, fired, and forgotten. We file it for every woman who can’t speak up because she’ll lose the job she needs to support her three kids. We file it for the Chin-Up Girls of the Silent Generation who were told to laugh off sexual violence and who have suffered for decades believing rapes were “their own fault.”
I am confident the case will return to Judge Kaplan in District Court, discovery will recommence, and a New York jury will decide who is telling the truth—me, or the man who continually tells the American public that he wins the 2020 election by a landslide.
Little Known Fact:
I am not wearing makeup in the New York cover photo. Amanda Demme, the photographer, gets a gander at me arriving barefaced for our shoot, and cries “That’s it! We’re going for the whole truth! No makeup!”
This means that Trump is wearing more makeup than I am, when, for the next three days after this story appears, he calls me a liar and says I am too ugly to rape.
And the latest update is from Robbie Kaplan:
And now, an Ask E. Jean Question from the archives
Dear E. Jean:
I became one of those women—involved with a taken man. He was a thirty-two-year-old creative executive with a great sense of humor and a corner office. I'd just landed my first job in advertising. We went to great restaurants where he always ordered Champagne because, "Every moment we share is special and worth celebrating." (I know! Gag!) But to a young woman, like me, just starting out in New York, it was alluring. He was a sexy smart-ass who knew how to make me laugh. But I would quickly forget he was a sexy, smart "TAKEN" ass. I don't know how his girlfriend didn't catch on sooner, seeing the large amount of time he delegated to me.
But then one day the inevitable happened. After a wonderful weekend of bicycling in the park and drinking wine on the roof until the wee hours, he muttered the deadly phrase, "I'll call you tomorrow." Well that was two months ago. I'm not exactly waiting, but I need to close the book on this one. I can thankfully say I didn't sleep with him. But things got hot and heavy enough for me to take my earrings off, my favorite gold twists from Tiffany. I wound up leaving them at his apartment. He never returned them. I left him a voice mail letting him know the easiest way to send them back to me, if he hadn't already pawned them off on his girlfriend. (I know, a bit snotty, but I throw my punches when I can.)
One of his pals told me he's emotionally attached to her and physically attracted to me. So, E. Jean, what do I do now? I've convinced myself I'm over it, but obviously I'm not. I've considered sending him one of those weasel toys they sell on the street-----Been Wined and Dined
Been, My Begonia:
Hell, I was a half a page into your letter before I figured out the bugger wasn't married. "Taken?" Honey, no man in New York City is "taken" unless both his ankles are duct-taped to the girlfriend's radiator (and even then, by God, she better keep an eye on him). And the earrings? A first class young lady such as yourself is supposed to leave gold twists behind. Piles of them. It's the mark (like Zorro) of the elegant woman; so in future let me beseech you to leave them not only in apartments on both the East and West sides of Manhattan, but also the finer houses of Connecticut, the Hamptons and upstate New York.
Now, down to business.
You're right, my darling, it is time "to close the book on this one." The first chapter is finished, spell-checked, and has been slipped into the drawer. It shows you have talent and style. It confirms you have nerve. And "what do [you] do now?" Why, you start on the next chapter, woman!
Write to me, darlings!
No matter what problems are driving you crazy—-your career, your wardrobe, your love affairs, your lusts, your loneliness, your friends, your orgasms, or your finances—send them to AskEeeeJean@gmail.com. And drop me photos of your pets!
Carroll v Trump
The Conflab is where we hash over the Ask E. Jean questions—and where our roisterous community jumps in and gives A’s to the Q’s with more wisdom than I. This time we’re also going to jaw about Carroll v Trump. I can’t answer many of the legal questions BECAUSE they are legal questions; but I will try to rope in the chic and brilliant Rachel Tuchman, who is on the Carroll v Trump team at Kaplan, Hecker & Fink.
But l’d like to hear if you’ve ever been involved in litigation. And….did you go to court? How did you choose an attorney? What advice do you have for me? What did you wear? Did you have a jury? What was the outcome of your case?
Of the myriad legal jeopardies Trump faces yours is the one I want to be his ultimate undoing
When you win, I will roar on my porch.