Lord Rumpelstiltskin of Crossharbour

Not everyone can spin straw into gold, but Conrad Black is giving it a mighty try.

Very soon, he will enter a court room in Chicago, where few know of him. Except, of course, for all of his former employees of the Chicago Sun-Times, a newspaper he very nearly demolished. A contingent of the disgruntled will probably attend, to gloat over the impending downfall, but this is the sort of case that will drag on for years. If all goes as planned, Mr. Black will be burning in hell long before things draw to a close, and he can then be buried with all the honors due to a peer of the realm.

In the meantime, he's spinning a golden tale of his victimhood, and there are reports that his floss has taken on a certain glitter. Many Canadians who once reviled him are beginning to see his take on the situation, and offer up a bit of hard-bitten respect for their native son. Seeing as the case is being heard in Chicago, however, his spinning wheel may not work once transported further south.

Take the whole peerage issue. You'll rarely see the man referred to as Lord Black in the news, and that is a reflection of the Irishman's antipathy to British nobility. Chicago's mayor is descended from Mayo stock, and the river's about to be dyed a lovely shade of Kelly green in a few days. Look at the roster of judges in Chicago, and you'll see more Irish names than the Dublin telephone directory. The lead prosecutor on the case just happens to be named Fitzgerald, and the lad's a Domer. Lord have mercy on His Lordship, but the Great Famine is still a fresh memory (and one that never gets stale).

The pending litigation revolves around some shady financing, and His Lordship stands accused of using corporate funds as his private bank account. He's outraged over the allegations, the smears on his noble character, but Patrick Fitzgerald is confident that he has a case. Not to be humbled, Conrad Black continues as before, making the scene with his glamorous wife on his arm. It's as if he's entirely in the right, the victim of some jealous detractors. It's being done to him by members of Hollinger Inc.'s board, he says. One of those members is a former Illinois governor, and Big Jim Thompson will throw the Canuck overboard to save his own skin. And not even blink. In the city known as the Stacker of Wheat, the odds are stacked against the former media baron.

So Conrad Black spins his version of events, hoping that the gold will translate into enough money to pay a raft of lawyers to get him off the hook. As for the whole peerage business, all in all it would be best to play it down. City of the Big Shoulders, Hog Butcher to the World...Bareheaded, Shoveling, Wrecking, Planning. Not impressed with your credentials. And the jury will soon guess your real name.