The following is from Lenroot Mays, from his blog The Auguries of Innocence. The points which Mr Mays raises remain the gold standard of the hurdle PGP need to jump over to make their case.
This is relevant here since we're fresh from being introduced to Nick van der Leek's trash, particularly the "No Answer" chapter from his silly book, a chapter which tries to tie Knox to Guede through a phone number which is i.d.'ed from phone logs - which is, in fact, her parents calling her and the calls go to voicemail.
Absolute stupidity on NvdL's part; but then again, even according to his proofreader, NvdL had not even heard of the case in May 2015, and by the end of the month had this cut-and-paste "book" out. Suitably "proofread" my Mensa geniuses who missed him dating the murder on June 1.
But on to Lenroot - deal with these issues, and we'll talk. My only quibble is that he, like a lot of others, sometimes ignores Raffaele as being caught up in the lunacy, too.
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Lenroot Mays - The Auguries of Innocence
When one steps back from the minute details of the case, it becomes immediately obvious that if you are to believe in Amanda Knox's guilt you must enter the world of fantasy and willingly suspend disbelief on a massive scale. You must, in short, become a believer in outlandish fairy tales. Here is a starter selection of some of the extravagant absurdities and improbabilities to which you must subscribe:
You have, first of all, to believe that Amanda Knox left the comforts of Raffaele's apartment on a cold November night for no discernible reason, and you must ignore the fact that no security cameras or remotely credible witnesses provided evidence that she had.
You must believe that Amanda armed herself for the occasion with a large kitchen knife carried in her bag, and you must ignore the fact that she was not in the habit of doing such things, that no one saw this happen, and that there is no physical evidence whatsoever that it did.
You have to believe that by some as-yet-unspecified agency Knox met up with Guede, though, again, no remotely credible witness or camera puts them together. You must ignore the fact that she had previously had only the briefest introduction to Guede, and that the prosecution failed mightily despite enormous effort to find any further association between them.
You have to assume that Amanda, a good student and athlete with no dark side or history of violence, could, without the barest hint of a plausible motive, butcher a lovely housemate whom she liked and esteemed.
You have to assume that Meredith died at least two hours later than established medical science says is physically possible.
You have to assume that Amanda cleaned up the scene of the murder so completely that no trace of her survived in the room where the murder took place - no DNA, fingerprints, hair, or traces of her clothing, etc. You must further ignore the fact that it is physically and scientifically impossible to clean a murder scene in this fashion without leaving evidence that you did so.
You must assume that though the victim was hemorrhaging liters of blood, Amanda somehow managed to avoid getting even the smallest drop on her person or clothes, and somehow managed to avoid disturbing the blood in a way that signaled her presence.
You have to assume that Amanda engaged in yet another masterful act of deception by staging a break-in, something she could only accomplish through a series of diabolically clever intermediate steps that include:
Bringing a large rock into the apartment, opening the window in the direction of the wall, and then hurling the rock through so as to simulate its having come from the outside.
Re-adjusting the windows, and then picking up bits of broken glass and throwing them across the room, precisely imitating the expected directional spray of a real break-in.
Moving shards from the rock that broke off when it hit the floor to a new spot that would suggest an entirely different entry trajectory, consistent with the spray of glass.
In an especially clever trompe l'oeil, grabbing the rock once again and rolling it into a shopping bag on the floor, thereby creating a touch of verisimilitude that would fool all but the most lynx-eyed Perugian detectives.
You have to assume that instead of simply disposing of the murder weapon as any garden variety of criminal might have done, Amanda took the bloody knife back to the apartment where she continued to cook and prepare food with it over the next four days (No ordinary ghoul our Ms. Knox!).
You have to assume that, instead of leaving the country like the victim's friends did, or getting a lawyer as her Italian flatmates did, or even going to the American Embassy as her family recommended, Amanda preferred to play a grueling, 40-hour+ cat and mouse game with the police - a tactic so pleasant that it left her stressed and exhausted to the point that one officer asked her if she needed medical attention.
You have to assume that the small army of investigators who awaited Amanda at the police station on November 5, some of whom were on special detail from Rome, were there just for the fun of it and because they had nothing better to do on a cold November midnight. You must further assume that the assemblage of this task force required no prior planning or authorization and had absolutely nothing to do with the fact Amanda's mother was flying in the next day to take charge of the situation and assist her daughter.
You have to assume that when Amanda did "crumble" she did not: a) confess or b) attempt to shift the blame to her co-perpetrators, but c) blamed an innocent bystander she had every reason to expect would have an iron-clad alibi.
Surely, and as we are sane, reasonable people, the most fitting and proper response to this speculative daisy-chain of contrived nonsense is humor - derisive laughter, to be specific. It is just a breathtakingly foolish reconstruction of events and only card carrying fools would believe it.
