Emily Kohrs, the foregirl of the special grand jury investigating alleged election interference in Georgia, came across this week as jarringly ebullient, flaky, and immature in her media blitz.
How else does the public expect one parlaying a seat on a secret grand jury to a spot on cable news to behave?
“I don’t want to say I have better judgment than the judge,” she explained in initially parrying a CNN question on possible indictment recommendations. She didn’t want to say that, but she thought it. We surmise this because moments later she answered, “I believe so,” as to whether more than a dozen indictment recommendations come out of the proceedings. When asked for her reaction to the possibility of no charges, she offered “sad” and “frustrated.” She reasoned that if citizens take seven months out of their lives to serve on a grand jury, then it calls for some action.
“I wanted to hear from the former president,” she gushed to NBC News, “but honestly, I kinda wanted to subpoena the former president because I got to swear everybody in, and so I thought it would be really cool to get 60 seconds with President Trump of me looking at him and saying, ‘Do you solemnly swear…’” This led to many unsolemn swears from the other side of the screen.
Kohrs laughed nervously, spoke in a staccato style, and moved around as though with ants in her pants. She looks 16. She acts 12.
She occasionally drifted from English to Uptalk. Her native tongue, though, relies on no tongue at all. Her body swayed and fidgeted. The real action occurred above it. The face dances she performed, including raised eyebrows and wry smiles translating to “you’re on to something,” forward head tilts as a sort of exclamation point to her words, and sky-ball eyeballs looking to the heavens for the right answer, bested everybody on the planet since a wink-wink, nudge-nudge Eric Idle.
In her defense, Idle was acting. For an actual person rather than a character discomfiting television viewers with inappropriate giggling and odd facial movements in a more profound way, one must go all the way back to this interview with former Manson Family member Simi Valley Sherry.
Not that Kohrs exudes an evil vibe. Reports describing her as a witch, derived from her old Pinterest account detailing the ingredients of potions, the counting of crows for telling the future, and ironically the instructions on a “leave me alone” spell, overlook her aura’s resemblance to Glinda (and not the green one). So, Trump need not make haste to obtain a magic mirror or protective decoy puppet to protect himself from her wizardry, which, if it exists, likely does so on the benign side of the thaumaturgical spectrum.
Kohrs, whose special grand jury merely recommends indictments to a regular grand jury, spoke to the Associated Press, CNN, NBC, the New York Times, and the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. She did not talk to Fox News, the leading cable news network. Does this make her partisan? She reportedly voted neither in the 2016 nor the 2020 presidential election (a streak that patriots root for her to maintain).
Out of innocence or zeal to nail Trump, she likely provided him an escape route should the regular grand jury indict him. Anderson Cooper questioned, even after Kohrs appeared on CNN, her choice to go public despite custom and the law requiring much secrecy. ”First of all, why is this person talking on TV,” Cooper said on CNN Tuesday night. “I do not understand because she’s clearly enjoying herself. But, I mean, is this responsible? She was the foreperson of this grand jury.”
One could imagine Kohrs as kind, sweet, childlike, and imbuing a room with positive energy. Conceiving a pool of people so benighted that a judge or fellow jurors decided to select her as the foreman requires Jackie Paper’s imagination. It also indicts the indictments should they come.
Kohrs explained on CNN, “There are no major plot twists waiting for you.” For those expecting prosecution of the former president unencumbered by Kohrs’ 15 Minutes, plot twists await.
via spectator