copyright 2006, Jump Cut: A Review of Contemporary Media

Jump Cut, No. 48, winter 2006

Strange Justice :
Sounding out the Right:
Clarence Thomas, Anita Hill, and
constructing spin in the name of justice

by Steve Lipkin

The made-for-television docudrama Strange Justice revisits the events during the tempestuous summer of 1991 that saw the ascendance of Clarence Thomas to the United States Supreme Court. The film shows us how and why Anita Hill stepped forward to oppose the nomination, and the response to this confrontation by the United States Senate Judiciary Committee. The film bases much of its re-creation on transcripts of press conferences and Judiciary Committee hearings. Through its weaving together of actual and re-created sound and image materials, the film’s suturing strategies both model and deconstruct the “spin” that framed Thomas’s campaign for confirmation and Hill’s opposition. Strange Justice provides an analysis of spin. Its own suturing of real and recreated materials models the very processes it exposes of shaping public perception and opinion. By analyzing and exposing where and how the real and the fabricated interact in the program's construction, I hope also to reveal how Thomas became an effective construction of the political right. In its audio-visual shaping, Strange Justice forecasts how those same strategies of suturing real and recreated material would be brought into play in present-day politics of presidential power and Supreme Court nominations.

“Spin” has become an everyday term, describing the process of using the media to frame people, actions, and events in order to shape public perception and ultimately public opinion. We understand that spin entails a blend of the real and its construction, a strategic mixture of fact and myth. The work of “spin”, or, if you will, spinning “the real” has two literal senses that show the appropriateness of the term: To “spin” something means to turn it, so that we can view it and perhaps see it differently from multiple perspectives, while “spinning” also suggests the manufacturing of thread, from which the spinner can weave cloth. These literal and figurative meanings of “spin” all apply in the case of Strange Justice.

The Showtime Networks aired Strange Justice (E. Dickerson, 1999) in September of 1999, fully eight years after the events occurred which this “based-on-a-true-story” work re-recreates.[1] [open notes in new window] As a movie-of-the-week docudrama, Strange Justice frames real and re-created events within the overall form of a classic Hollywood narrative. The “true story” we see in this case balances well-known, widely seen documentary imagery with events that did not occur before network television cameras. Consequently Strange Justice covers the announcement of Thomas’s nomination to the Court, the preparation for his nomination hearings, the subsequent U.S. Senate Judiciary Committee confirmation hearings, including the key testimony by both Thomas and Anita Hill, and the repercussions of Hill’s charges. Strange Justice approaches this basic subject matter as a combination of history and political psychodrama. At key moments during hearings, the film shifts between straightforward documentary material, conventional narrative re-creation of events and the principals involved, and highly theatricalized interpretation of the testimony. The perspective the film offers is to view these events through the prism of docudrama, and specifically as a true story about storytelling. The overall argument Strange Justice develops is that the legal, political, and ethical issues raised by the Thomas nomination should be understood most fruitfully as the product of initiating and reformulating Thomas’s story. Within this larger approach, the film then shows us the “whole cloth” spun from this process by foregrounding the blend of actuality and re-creation in specific scenes and sequences.

There are several reasons why the Clarence Thomas nomination story is best understood as a matter of spin. First, the Thomas nomination provides a glaring and consequently illustrative instance of how effectively conservative political interests in the United States have, over several decades, marshaled the means to manipulate public opinion. Second, Thomas himself, as the embodiment of paradoxes of race and identity, invited the possibility of being perceived from multiple perspectives. Third, as Thomas’s nomination hearing became a forum for the exercise of power by conservative political interests, the process redefined the public perception of the roles of victimizer and victim. This abuse of process culminated in Thomas’s confirmation, as well as allowing conservative committee members the opportunity to serve as advocates on Thomas’s behalf, rather than function as impartial servants of the larger public interest.

Following on the heels of embedded journalists, the exploitation of Jessica Lynch, the deflection of responsibility for Abu Ghraib, the performances of Rice and Rumsfeld before the 9/11 Commission, and the various and sundry fictions of the 2004 presidential campaign (“town hall” meetings; Swiftboat Veterans for Truth), early 2005 saw some (belated) attention turned to the George W. Bush administration’s efforts to control the media. For example, there were news reports on the administration's support of a fake White House press correspondent, its investment of substantial amounts of taxpayer dollars to pay former journalist Karen Ryan to produce government public relations pieces, to pay columnist Armstrong Williams $240,000 to promote No Child Left Behind, to stage “conversations” on its proposed reform of Social Security, to create a Department of Homeland Security public relations campaign, and to produce and distribute on evening newscasts video “news” releases. (Rich; Barstow) Conservative political interests in the U.S., however, systematically have developed financial and organizational resources in order to spin their stories. They have done this for decades since briefly losing the White House to Jimmy Carter.

The Clarence Thomas nomination was supported and promoted by conservative foundations begun in the 1970s (most notably the Heritage Foundation and its offshoot, the Free Congress Foundation). (Mayer 13; 152-3) The likelihood that a Thomas nomination would aid the causes of re-institutionalizing prayer in public schools, the overturn of Roe v. Wade, and the curtailment of gay rights earned it support from an alliance of black and white religious conservative groups, which had become prominent during the Reagan administration, including Jerry Falwell’s Moral Majority, and the Citizens Committee, an organization of white evangelical ministers. (Mayer 175; 191-2; 196; also Marable 72-3) In sum, the Thomas nomination fit neatly into a twenty-year sustained effort by conservative interests to “form strategic alliances around common issues they support” and had developed the resources to promote. (Hazen)

As a conservative African American, Thomas-as-nominee offered a veritable rainbow of opportunities for spin. During the Reagan administration Supreme Court nominations became a focal point for the consolidation of conservative, if not right-wing political power. As of early 2005, seven out of nine sitting Supreme Court justices had been appointed by Republican presidents (Stevens by Ford; O’Connor, Rehnquist, Scalia, and Kennedy by Reagan; Souter and Thomas by the first President Bush). The nomination of Robert Bork in 1987 failed in part because the NAACP opposed his record on civil rights, thus the pragmatic, strategic advantage to a Republican administration of the Thomas nomination.[2]

Thomas’s record as head of the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) during the Reagan administration and his subsequent appointment to the D.C. Circuit Court posed some basic paradoxes that necessitated spinning the candidate to ensure his confirmation. Thomas had taken public stances against Affirmative Action, even though he had benefited from it in his admissions to Holy Cross and Yale, yet his job as the head of EEOC was to enforce its provisions (Marable 61-3; Mayer 18-9; 53). Thomas felt that Affirmative Action stigmatized its beneficiaries, creating what he called “black work.” Yet in his first appearances before the public and the Senate Judiciary Committee, he embraced the mythology of growing up poor and black in Pinpoint, Georgia. Thomas was nominated to the Supreme Court even though he “had never litigated a case before a jury” … “nor, during his brief stint as a judge, had he issued a single substantive constitutional opinion” (Mayer 21). This record was due in part perhaps because he had joined a DC Circuit bench that had featured the likes of Robert Bork, Antonin Scalia, and Ken Starr. (Mayer 162)

Given the multiple perspectives Thomas’s record as a nominee allowed, and the commitment the conservative core of the Republican party had made to ensuring his nomination, it is no surprise that the public’s perception of Thomas required its most extreme molding during the Senate nomination hearings, especially as Anita Hill’s claims finally became public that she had been sexually harassed by Thomas when they both worked at the EEOC. In essence, Hill’s charges and the Committee’s efforts to deflect them made strikingly evident how the Senate Judiciary Committee’s process had been focused on its construction of Thomas. Sticking to this story highlighted the identity politics grounding the redefinition of the roles of all involved. Analyses by Jane Flax, Toni Morrison, and Hill herself [3] have examined in detail the ways rhetorical elements of the Thomas hearings display how bald the exercise of the politics of race and identity became at this moment. I would like to draw upon this larger discussion to focus briefly on how Strange Justice depicts the role changes that the work of spin created. Specifically Thomas, with the encouragement of the Committee, recast himself as victim and Hill as victimizer. The Committee, departing from its role as evaluators, became collaborators with Thomas in this construction project, and then became his advocates.

In the first (and what originally was to be the only) round of hearings, Thomas embraced the confirmation process as the culmination of the opportunity the United States had offered him. The second set of hearings allowed Hill to testify and Thomas to rebut. Jane Flax and others have argued that the commitment the Committee had made to Thomas prevented it from entertaining the recognition of Thomas as victimizer and Anita Hill as a victim; in fact, the case is just the opposite.[4] Hill’s testimony threatened the shared “American Dream” narrative that Thomas and the Committee in concert had fashioned, and consequently made it necessary for the process to expunge Hill. (Flax 50) Here with the help of the Committee, Thomas changes his role from one offered fulfillment through his participation in a Horatio Alger-like American upward mobilization, to, ironically, one who has been damaged by the very same process. In calling the Committee’s airing of Hill’s charges “a high tech lynching for uppity blacks,” in one of its most notorious moments Thomas suggests he has been victimized both by the confirmation process itself, and by an irrational, duplicitous African American woman’s exploitation of his sexual and racial identity.[5]

In re-creating the evolution of this role reversal, Strange Justice illuminates the dynamics of how the culmination of Thomas’s nomination before the Senate Judiciary Committee invited a confirmation hearing to serve an explicitly political process. This is evident in the film’s larger structure, as well as in specific scenes that re-create the hearings themselves. While a number of the film’s critics noted the “edgy” and even “surreal” elements of the hearing scenes, I would like to focus more on how, in these moments, the film equates political power with acoustic space in its adaptation of the video transcript of the hearing.

Strange Justice argues most fundamentally that the best storyteller gains and maintains political power. Consequently the structure of the film models the processes it tells about and ultimately re-creates. This is evident in both character and plot. The film depicts the main players in Thomas’s camp as engaged in constructing the Thomas story, often in conflict with each other as to the best way to let the story be told. Central to this is Ken Duberstein, the handler hired by the Republican party to manage the Thomas nomination. Thomas himself comes to oppose Duberstein’s recommendations and strategies for what Thomas should say, and how he should say it. The film shows one of the most remembered moments of the 1991 trial (Thompson; M. Hill; Mink; James). This conflict between narratives reaches a climax when Thomas rejects Duberstein’s recommended response to Anita Hill’s testimony and creates one of his own that depicts him as victim of lynching. Subordinates work to facilitate the agendas of these sometimes aligned, sometimes conflicting narrators. The film’s re-creation of the equation of storytelling and power places Anita Hill in the position of offering a single story, a sole voice that can’t compete with the voices that rise up to oppose it. The Senate Judiciary committee minimizes or denies the opportunities to hear the stories of witnesses who would support Hill. We see the system redefine Hill’s role from speaker to listener, from witness with testimony to listener denied a venue for an adequate response. (Figs. 1, 2, and 3)

In addition to its depiction of characters as storytellers, Strange Justice also frames the nomination's history as a process of spinning the Thomas story by converting chronology itself into story structure. The film’s narrative arc breaks down into three stages the events transpiring during the two months from the announcement of Thomas’s nomination to his swearing in ceremony. The first, expository stage explains the political purpose underlying the nomination. As one aide comments, the Bush administration is “going to really stick it to the liberals on this one.” The “stick” is that as an African American, ultra-conservative judge with a track record antagonistic toward the rights of women and minorities, Clarence Thomas embodies ideological paradoxes. Larger narrative conflicts unfold and intensify in the second stage of this structure when preparations for framing Thomas’s story in the upcoming confirmation hearings encounter opposing stories: Thomas’s religious propriety becomes countered by allegations of spousal abuse and ultimately challenged most severely when the Anita Hill story comes to light.

The culmination of initiating and framing the Thomas story becomes, in the last stage of events, the recasting of Thomas as a victim of left ideologues. Here the on-screen storytelling processes most explicitly seize the power of definition, defining Thomas as an innocent in need of rescue, and Hill, his antagonist, as a liar, a dupe, and a plagiarist, whose sanity is questionable.

Strange Justice is both narration and demonstration. Within the story it tells about how conservative interests packaged and sold Clarence Thomas, the film illuminates its own docudramatic storytelling processes. Just as “spin” is a framing of an actuality to create perception and define its meaning, scenes throughout Strange Justice bring together real and re-created sounds and images to interact.[6] For example, during the initial press conference announcing Thomas’s nomination, the re-created Clarence Thomas appears to stand next to the actual George Bush (Fig. 4). I’ll discuss momentarily how Strange Justice’s presentation of the Senate confirmation hearing cuts between its video transcript of the Judiciary Committee and the reverse angles of the reactions of Thomas and Anita Hill. This juxtaposition within the same cinematic space legitimizes the view of events the film presents, bolstering the basis in truth the “based on a true story” narrative claims.

To illustrate Strange Justice’s own spinning of the real I’d like to focus on a key moment when the film presents one of its central arguments, that telling the Thomas story successfully demanded seizing the power of role definition, effectively reversing the perception of victimizer and victim. “The Exorcist” portion of the Thomas confirmation hearings in Strange Justice exemplifies the film’s analysis of the process of spin. The bedrock of this scene is its sound, the transcript of the actual hearing. Strange Justice allows the public record, the documentary material, to interact in several ways with what was not documented but can only be reported or inferred. In this instance, testimony and response to it set up the interplay of public and private space. Specifically we see the actuality in the public record relating the committee's action to define Anita Hill’s role, and the re-creation of her response. In the “Exorcist” scene we see Thomas’s supporters, with Orrin Hatch as their spokesman, riding to the rescue of their nominee. The scene sutures documentary material and re-creation, public and private space, to foreground Hatch’s dual role as advocate as well as accuser. Hatch here is presenting testimony and evidence on Thomas’s behalf in order to reframe the committee’s and the public’s perception of Hill. (Fig. 5) As the scene evolves Hatch’s accusations define Hill as a dupe of the left, a plagiarist, and ultimately as irrational for putting her accusations before the public. The interplay consequently positions Hill as accused, with no commensurate forum available for recourse or response. Thomas, the object of all this, becomes a bystander while Hatch takes the lead.

The construction of the scene sets several kinds of docudramatic interactions in motion, which carry out the progressive accusations and framing of Hill. The videotaped transcript of the hearing, its sound in particular, give the scene its spine, providing two-thirds of its framework. Brief cut-aways from documentary to re-created material show Thomas’s affirmation of Hatch’s points. Cut-aways also present the responses of Hill and her supporters while they watch the hearings in her hotel room. (Figs. 6, 7, and 8) Beyond simply setting up the interplay of public space that is “on the record” and the re-created representation of reaction to it, the juxtapositions and the interactions that result illuminate the exercise of power at this moment. Hatch’s presentation and the procedure of the committee are real and present before the public. As he acts as Thomas’s advocate, Hatch gives the support Thomas has in the Senate from like-minded conservatives actuality, weight, and momentum. The scene shows both Thomas and Hill for what they are in the process, quite literally, constructions of the discourse that has put them on the public agenda.

The presentation Hatch is making appears to follow a kind of cause-effect logic. The left's “digging up the dirt” that Thomas has alluded to in prior testimony leads to unearthing the likely source of the infamous “pubic hair on the Coke” claim, in The Exorcist. (Fig. 9) That Hill would testify to this claim shows her as a pawn of the left, a plagiarist (Hatch says, “I submit, those things were found”), possibly irrational (“she would have us believe that you were saying these things because you wanted to date her?”) and an opportunist (“she didn’t say it in her four-page statement, but … she said it yesterday”).[7]

The edited film scene has compressed and rearranged the actual transcript material to make this logical progression emphatic. In the proceedings transcript, Hatch brings up finding The Exorcist as the allegation's source before mentioning the investigators trying to dig up material to damage Thomas (see Miller 161). The final note in this progression is to reframe the very presence of Hill’s family, ostensibly there to support her, as opportunism. Hatch’s statements gradually fade out as he is commenting on Hill’s family, that

“they looked beautiful, they look like wonderful people to me. Look at her parents, they are clearly good people, clearly, her sisters, clearly good people. But I saw the entourage come in, and I’m not saying they did this, [but can bet your bottom dollar that someone found every possible stereotype, to use your terms]”

The interplay between public and private events in the scene emphasizes and clarifies how the procedural logic of the hearing favors the preferences of power, as well as illuminates how power lies in what can be constructed before the public. Hatch is responding to statements Hill made previously. In this procedure Hill and other women who would provide evidence to support her claims are suppressed precisely because what they are saying has been cast in the perspective of abusing the nominee. The committee’s procedural exclusions state, essentially, that what happens in private space should remain there. (Fig. 10) Hill is never given the opportunity to respond to Hatch’s claims before the committee. The structure of the scene juxtaposes the assertion that Hill opportunely has brought up the plagiarized Coke can story with Hill only able to reassert her victimization in the limited privacy of her hotel suite. Even worse, in this scene she is only allowed to do so through the even more confining, more private space of a telephone call. (Fig. 11) And this call can only offer the consolation that “it’s politics, truth hardly enters into it.” (Fig. 12)

A second strategy that the film uses to frame this interaction of documentary record and response is to theatricalize public space. This is done in order to project onto the outer world the interior action the words in the hearing transcripts connote. (Fig. 13) In these instances (they recur several times in the film) the testimonies Hill and Thomas present adhere to the statements which the two made before the committee, but the setting of the reenactment shifts into an abstract space of mood and emotion. It is here we see Hill’s anguish, and Thomas most explicitly visualized as performing the victim he is claiming to be. (Fig. 14) One example will suffice to show how this abstract space of mood functions. In the film’s chronology, this is Thomas’s turn before the committee just before Hatch rises to his defense (while in fact, approximately 45 pages of transcript separate the two appearances). Thomas begins by saying

“unequivocally, uncategorically that I deny each and every single allegation against me today that suggested in any way that I had conversations of a sexual nature or about pornographic material with Anita Hill, that I ever attempted to date her, that I ever had any personal sexual interest in her, or that I in any way ever harassed her.” (Miller 117) (Fig. 15)

As he speaks, the chamber’s normal, hard, high-key lighting dims to spotlight Thomas’s upturned palms. (Fig. 16) Addressing a darkened chamber, he stands, approaches the committee table, and removes his shirt, leaving his tie around his neck. (Fig. 17) He continues,

 “I think something is dreadfully wrong with this country, when any person, any person in this free country would be subject to this. This is not a closed room."

“There was an FBI investigation. This is not an opportunity to talk about difficult matters privately or in a closed environment. This is a circus. It is a national disgrace. And from my standpoint, as a black American, as far as I am concerned, it is a high-tech lynching for uppity blacks who in any way deign to think for themselves, to do for themselves, to have different ideas, and it is a message that, unless you kow-tow to an old order, this is what will happen to you, you will be lynched, destroyed, caricatured by a committee of the U.S. Senate, rather than hung from a tree.” (Miller 117-8)

As Thomas describes the confirmation process as a way of lynching an uppity black, he lifts up the end of his necktie, turning it into a hangman’s noose, and the word “lynching” repeats in echo three times. (Fig. 18) Along with the shifts in lighting, costume, and action, these theatricalized adaptations of the transcript incorporate extreme, emphatic readings of the lines of testimony. As a result, the performances foregrounds the oldness of the “old order, and Thomas’s incredulity that this is being exposed publicly.

The film’s construction of these confrontations illuminates the interplay between public and private space. Strange Justice’s interaction of documentary and re-created material clarifies emphatically how the processes of spin compete to frame the roles of victim and victimizer. The Exorcist scene foregrounds Hatch’s advocacy by allowing his presence in documentary material to interact with re-created representations of disempowered response, while the theatricalization of Thomas’s testimony shows his assumption of the victim role explicitly as performance. Both interplays illustrate how the storyteller in the spotlight seizes the power of definition. The film serves as a timely reminder of the consequences of the unprecedented conservative control of the media exercised to date by the current U.S. president, who has both put forward John Roberts, another possible “stealth” judge, as successor to Chief Justice William Rehnquist, and will also have the opportunity to replace retiring Justice Sandra Day O’Connor. Meanwhile the array of organizations, interest groups, and lobbyists ready, willing, and able to engage in the combat of spin and counterspin have become a matter of public record.[8] Strange Justice argues emphatically and explicitly that spin remains the weapon of choice in the holy war of politics. The warriors are storytellers in its view of this particular chapter of U.S. jurisprudery. It shows the campaign to nominate and confirm Thomas as a power play staged by storytellers, and shows how stories exert power when their claims, as well as their telling, not only write the script and cast the parts but also set the stage and occupy it exclusively.


1. See
regarding Rupert Murdoch’s role in Fox’s abandonment of the production.

2. According to Margaret A. Burnham, the process of mobilizing campaigns by national political interests to influence Federal court nominations began with the battle over Robert Bork. (292)

3. Hill narrates in detail her experience of the Thomas nomination and hearing process in Anita Hill, Speaking Truth to Power (NY: Doubleday, 1997) with a view to analyzing the responses of individual senators on the Judiciary Committee and others to her charges. She discusses the hearing itself as a process of constructing narratives in “Marriage and Patronage in the Empowerment and Disempowerment of African American Women (273-4) in Anita Faye Hill and Emma Coleman Jordan, eds., Race, Gender, and Power in America: The Legacy of the Hill-Thomas Hearings (NY: Oxford UP, 1995): 271-291.

4. See also Morrison xviii-xix.

5. For an analysis of this pronouncement as speech act, see Lacour (151) and Thomas (364-72); see also Lacour’s discussion of victimization here as scapegoating (151) and a similar comparison to rituals of totemism (Bhabha 246-9); for a discussion of racial roles and stereotyping in the larger Hill/Thomas discourse, see Lubiano (323-61).

6. Elsewhere I have discussed “interaction” as a warranting strategy characteristic of docudrama. Interaction strategies pull together actual and staged scene elements to warrant the validity of docudramatic re-creation. See Lipkin, Real Emotional Logic (Carbondale: Southern Illinois UP, 2002): 25-7.

7. In their description of this moment, Mayer and Abramson add the following: "Originally such speculation would be considered so prejudicial that it would never be allowed in an open court, let alone a Senate hearing. But that Saturday, the Republicans on the Judiciary Committee read portions from both The Exorcist and the 10th Circuit case out loud. Duberstein even told Hatch to hold up a copy of the book when questioning Thomas, on the theory that photos of the incriminating moment would run on the front page of every newspaper the following morning." (302)

8. See, for example, David E. Rosenbaum and Lynette Clemetson, “In Fight to Confirm New Justice, Two Field Generals Rally Their Troops Again,” New York Times, 3 July 2005:15; and Matt Bai, “The Framing Wars,” The New York Times Magazine, 17 July 2005: 38-45ff.

Works Cited

Barstow, David, and Robin Stein. “Under Bush, A New Age of Prepackaged News. New York Times, 13 Mar. 2005, late national ed., 1.

Burnham, Margaret A. “The Supreme Court Appointment Process and the Politics of Race and Sex,” in Morrison, Toni, ed. Race-ing Justice, En-gendering Power: Essays on Anita Hill, Clarence Thomas, and the Construction of Social Reality. NY: Pantheon, 1992: 290-322.

Dowd, Maureen. “Liberties; Keep Your Shirt On!” New York Times, 25 Aug. 1999, late ed., sec. A:23.

Flax, Jane. The American Dream in Black and White: The Clarence Thomas Hearings. Ithaca: Cornell UP, 1998.

Fries, Laura. “Strange Justice.” Daily Variety, 27 Aug. 1999.

Gilbert, Matthew. “Strange Justice Spins Different View.” Boston Globe, 27 Aug. 1999, E1.

Harris, Lyle V. “Story Embellishments Turn Justice Strange.” Atlanta Constitution, 4F

Hazen, Don, “The Right Wing Express,” Alternet, 7 February 2005,

Hill, Michael E. “Showtime’s Strange Justice.” Washington Post, 29 August, 1999, Y04.

James, Caryn. “He Said, She Said, and the Whole Nation Listened.” New York Times, 27 Aug. 1999, late edition, sec. E:29.

Lacour, Claudia Brodsky. “Doing Things With Words: ‘Racism’ as Speech act and the Undoing of Justice,” in Morrison, Toni, ed. Race-ing Justice, En-gendering Power: Essays on Anita Hill, Clarence Thomas, and the Construction of Social Reality. NY: Pantheon, 1992: 127-58.

Lubiano, Wahneema. “Black Ladies, Welfare Queens, and State Minstrels: Ideological War by Narrative Means,” in Morrison, Toni, ed. Race-ing Justice, En-gendering Power: Essays on Anita Hill, Clarence Thomas, and the Construction of Social Reality. NY: Pantheon, 1992: 323-61.

Marable, Manning. “Clarence Thomas and the Crisis of Black Political Culture,” in Morrison, Toni, ed. Race-ing Justice, En-gendering Power: Essays on Anita Hill, Clarence Thomas, and the Construction of Social Reality. NY: Pantheon, 1992: 61-85.

Mayer, Jane, and Jill Abramson. Strange Justice: The Selling of Clarence Thomas. NY: Houghton Mifflin, 1994.

Miller, Anita. The Complete Transcripts of the Clarence Thomas—Anita Hill Hearings October 11, 12, 13, 1991. Chicago: Academy Chicago Publishers, 1994.

Mink, Eric. “Doing ‘Justice’ To History: Hill-Thomas Telefilm Alters Facts But Finds the Dramatic Essence.” Daily News, 27 Aug. 1999, 135.

Moore, Frazier. “Strange Justice Revisits Divisive Debate.” Dayton Daily News, 29 Aug. 1999.

Morrison, Toni, “Introduction: Friday on the Potomac,” in Morrison, Toni, ed. Race-ing Justice, En-gendering Power: Essays on Anita Hill, Clarence Thomas, and the Construction of Social Reality. NY: Pantheon, 1992: vi-xxx.

Rich, Frank. “Enron: Patron Saint of Bush’s Fake News.” New York Times, 20 Mar. 2005, late national ed., sec. 2:1+.

 “Strange Justice Favours Anita Hill.” Calgary Herald, 23 Aug. 1999, B6.

Thomas, Kendall, “Strange Fruit,” in Morrison, Toni, ed. Race-ing Justice, En-gendering Power: Essays on Anita Hill, Clarence Thomas, and the Construction of Social Reality. NY: Pantheon, 1992: 364-389.

Thompson, Kevin D. “Thomas vs. Hill: The Drama of Strange Justice.” Palm Beach Post, 29 Aug. 1999, 1J.

Weinraub, Bernard. “Hill vs. Thomas, Again in the Court of Senate Opinion.” New York Times, 22 Aug. 1999, late ed., sec. 2:31.

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