GETTING RID OF ROCKEFELLER

OK, we surrender.

In light of the sweetheart deal "Pot Princess" Julia Diaco has received,
the next step is obvious:

George Pataki needs to call a special session of the Legislature, with one
simple objective: The repeal of the Rockefeller drug laws, effective now.

We have always been skeptical of the movement to eliminate the
quote-draconian-unquote drug laws.

For one thing, the vast majority of those sentenced under the "Rocky" laws
are repeat offenders, individuals incarcerated for more than just a drug
offense - or both.

The actual number of individuals incarcerated for first-time nonviolent
drug offenses is a tiny portion of the overall state prison population.

It's also true that the move toward leniency reflects societal amnesia of
how awful crime became during the 1970s and 1980s. The drop in crime over
the last decade has produced a sense that now is the time to retreat from
the tried-and-true get-tough approach.

Yes, the prisons are full of muggers, thugs and thieves; better there than
still on the streets.

Yet, a main argument for repealing the Rockefeller laws was that - in
practice - they created a double standard, with sentences sometimes driven
by race, class and other subjective factors.

Well, Manhattan Supreme Court Justice Charles Solomon gave that argument a
big boost with the plea deal he signed off on Thursday for Diaco, a former
NYU student.

For selling pot, cocaine and psychedelic mushrooms on eight separate
occasions to undercover cops, Diaco gets some quality downtime in Idaho for
"rehab."

Not a day of prison time.

After completing a 10-month rehab, Diaco will just have to keep her nose -
and presumably the rest of her anatomy - clean while on five years probation.

Diaco is the offspring of a well-off New Jersey construction family.

Arguably, the well-off should actually get harsher sentences - because they
should know better.

But that's not going to happen.

So, why continue the charade?

Scrap the Rockefeller laws.

Little Miss Tokehead's slap on the wrist is a little too much to bear, if
equal justice before the law is to mean anything in New York.