There is no doubt that a two-tier system of justice exists in Pennsylvania when it comes to sentencing public officials found guilty of corruption.

Two days ago, Common Pleas Judge John A. Zottola played his part in this Frankensteinian patchwork by ordering ex-councilwoman Twanda Carlisle to report to prison next month for up to two years.

Ms. Carlisle pleaded guilty to a kickback scheme with do-nothing consultants that netted her $43,160 in city money. She's been stripped of her pension and ordered to pay a fine and to make restitution.

Judge Zottola had the option of knocking two days from her sentence so she could serve her time at home wearing an ankle monitor, but decided against it.

In sentencing Ms. Carlisle to Allegheny County Jail, where she is likely to be reassigned to a low-security, dormitory-style woman's facility in Crawford County, the judge was showing as much mercy as he thought the public could tolerate.

Ms. Carlisle has not been a sympathetic figure. Her admission that she'd done anything wrong had been grudging at best. That changed Wednesday when she tearfully apologized to her constituents, her family and the city of Pittsburgh.

But it was too late. Judge Zottola denied her plea for an alternate sentence. Anyone watching the scene would have been tempted to believe that crime doesn't pay in Pennsylvania.

Judge Zottola has no jurisdiction over former state Rep. Frank LaGrotta, a convicted legislator who put two no-show relatives on the state payroll.

While nearly everyone in Harrisburg can probably be considered a ghost employee, Mr. LaGrotta is serving six months house arrest for the sheer nepotistic audacity of making his sister and niece economic wards of the state.

After reimbursing the state $27,000 and paying a $3,000 fine, Mr. LaGrotta gets to keep his pension, which could be as high as $48,000 a year (though he's contending it will be closer to $28,000). Why? The Ellwood City Democrat's brand of thievery doesn't violate the list of 23 crimes that would automatically trigger pension forfeiture.

Sure, Mr. LaGrotta, who spent 20 years as a state legislator, ripped off the taxpayers. But he didn't forge, extort, bribe or resort to witness intimidation to get his relatives on the public dole getting paid for work that wasn't actually done.

As far as we can tell, Mr. LaGrotta is guilty of doing business as usual in Harrisburg, home of "America's Largest Full-Time State Legislature" (my colleague Brian O'Neill's slogan). He pled guilty to two counts of "conflict of interest" to avoid a nasty trial and a long sentence if convicted.

What Frank LaGrotta's case teaches us is simple: As long as you don't do a specific crime, you don't have to worry about doing the time -- and you may even get to keep your dimes -- in Pennsylvania.

The disparity in sentencing between Twanda Carlisle, who is black, and Frank LaGrotta, who is white, probably has less to do with race than the latter's proximity to the rampant theft by deception going on in Harrisburg every day.

In exchange for avoiding time in the clink, Mr. LaGrotta has a starring role in Attorney General Tom Corbett's ongoing investigation of corruption in Harrisburg. He's more valuable to the AG sitting at home watching "American Idol" than making license plates in prison, where he's likely to become so hardened by the experience that he wouldn't have an incentive for snitching.

Alas, Ms. Carlisle has nothing to trade for her freedom or she'd be sitting at home, too. This is what happens when you don't know enough crooks in high places.

•

Andy Warhol promised that in the future, everyone will be famous for 15 minutes. But how desperate would a person have to be to answer a casting call for "abnormal-looking people" with an "inbred" look just for the chance to appear in a movie that begins shooting in Pittsburgh next month?

Donna Belajac Casting was fired Tuesday after issuing a call for extras to populate a scene in a West Virginia "holler." West Virginians -- from the governor on down -- didn't take kindly to a search for "unusual facial features, especially eyes." But that doesn't mean the filmmakers have given up trying to populate "Shelter," a Julianne Moore film, with somebody's ugly cousin.

Because our region is thick with people who still wear mullets, don't be surprised if a latte-swilling, fake-tan-wearing, fast-talking guy with a monocle taps you on the hump on your back and asks if you want to be in pictures.

If he tells you that you have the loveliest snaggletoothed smile he's ever seen, flee to the hills from whence you came. No good will come of being an extra in that movie.