Truth, or No Consequences

Justice is Blind

Yesterday, I wrote to point out that the death of the Constitution comes more from the lack of integrity of the judiciary, than from the batons, pepper spray, or bullets of cops.

Today, Gideon, a public defender, tells a tale of judicial misconduct that provides yet another example of this lack of integrity.

Yes. I’m going to call what Gideon writes of by what it really is, by categorizing my post under “Judicial Misconduct.”

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A Blank Paper By Construction

Blank Constitution

Scott Greenfield writes today about a new United States Supreme Court decision – better characterized as a non-decision – in which the court had finally been handed a case they supposedly had been waiting for, for quite some time. It was an opportunity to clarify, to fix, an error of the system that they had perpetuated too long, and on too many occasions, in the past. As Scott put it:

It’s one of those reprehensible things the Supreme Court does, allowing bad things to happen to people for years until the right case comes before them, where they then tweak the law to correct what they could have done years earlier, saving thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands, of people from prison for being caught in the middle of their half-a-decision approach.

For its part, the court allegedly recognizes the problem, and eagerly awaits continues to stall until brought “the right case,” whatever that might mean, when they could allegedly fix things. The question is whether a person can be punished for behavior that a jury had found them not guilty of having engaged in. Because, the truth is, judges generally do not give a crap what juries say, and some judges have been punishing people for charges even after juries have acquitted them. Our system has, for the most part, prevented judges from completely dispensing with juries – but only for the most part. There are myriad procedures judges use to ensure that what they, the judges, believe should happen happens, irrespective of any system of law that might work to thwart them. Too many judges are unafraid to use those questionably ethical – and definitely immoral – procedures.

But the Supreme Court has always at least pretended that this was not so. The judges of our land just need laws clarified, so they will know how to act. [Read more...]


It Can Happen To You

Shredded Constitution

Just about a year-and-a-half ago, I wrote a post titled “It Can’t Happen To Me.” In it, I talked about the attitude I run into repeatedly, one that seems to be now as ingrained as the idea that people gotta breathe, which is that constitutional rights protect criminals. Nobody else needs them.

Because if you haven’t done anything wrong, then you’ve nothing to hide, nothing to fear.

Nevermind that non-white people have known pretty much forever that cops don’t just go after criminals. What white people believe runs this country. And white people haven’t suffered these problems of being stopped repeatedly, harassed, or killed for driving while black, kissing while black, or, increasingly, just being black, so they believe it doesn’t happen…very often.

Sure, they’ve heard of it happening, but they’ve never really borne the brunt of it. And they don’t really believe what some black people say about how bad it is. I mean, most cops are good, right? Most cops — so they say — won’t beat you at the drop of a hat, even if they stand around and do nothing while their brothers in blue beat the living shit out of people when the hat drops. Those good cops, though, will indeed not just stand there — they’ll cover for their homies when asked what happened, even if they have to lie under oath to do it.

They just won’t join in the beating. Because, they’re good cops.

The upshot is that as long as white people aren’t subject to being stopped repeatedly, harassed, or killed, we don’t really need constitutional rights.

Constitutional rights just protect criminals. And black people.

But why am I being redundant?

Anyway, like I said, white people got nothing to worry about, so it’s all cool.

The problem is — and anyone who has ignored the “Do Not Feed the Bears” signs for long enough knows this — once an animal gets a taste for humans, it will eventually be impossible to get it to stop eating them.

We — and our judicial system (which is to say, judges) — have allowed cops to feed on humans for too long now.

And the thing is, the chickens are coming home to roost.

You might think I’m mixing metaphors here, but, actually, I’m not — and not just because most cops really are cowardly, if carnivorous, animals. I could, in fact, throw in a few more metaphors for good measure. “Give them an inch, and they’ll take a mile” is another that seems to fit pretty well.

Anyway, that’s just what has happened. Cops have been allowed to feast on other humans, without repercussions, for too long. They’ve gotten a taste for it. The judiciary condones it. Some Americans — reminding us of the barbarous audiences of the Colosseum — even encourage it. Some of those because they, too, are sadistic animals; others because it’s good for ratings.

And, somehow, somewhere along the way, we discovered that we really don’t have any unalienable rights. As I noted in “It Can’t Happen To Me,” quoting the great American philosopher, George Carlin:

Image with quote from George Carlin regarding rights versus privileges

The List of our “Rights of Temporary Privileges” is getting shorter and shorter

Our Founders thought they were writing a Bill of Rights, pointedly intended to remind United States government authorities that there are certain lines which cannot be crossed in dealing with individuals with whom they might come into contact. “Criminals,” or not.

The problem is that cops can’t read; judges don’t read; and the Bill of Rights is just words on musty old paper.

Now, it’s not just dark meat that the carnivores are after. They’re developing a taste for white meat. In fact, it doesn’t even matter anymore whether it’s scrawny-ass white meat from you, or the potentially meatier (more worthy) meat of another cop’s kid. The modern police force realizes that their meat tenderizers, cooking prods, and bulletized aerators work just as well on it all.

And if you think it can’t happen to you, well, then, you’re just not thinking.


Let’s Make a Deal: the Joy of the Old “In-and-Out”

Prisoner in cuffs signing paper

I’ve said before that I hate plea bargains. I think they should be illegal. They have become little more than a bludgeon that puts too many innocent people in jail, or prison, and imprisons even too many guilty people for longer than they might be if the case were properly litigated.

Nevertheless, plea bargains are sometimes the best option, and when they are, I have been known to concur with my clients when they decide to accept one. I’ve also been known to argue with clients, when I thought that accepting a plea agreement was not in their best interests. When asked by the court if I concur in my client’s plea, I’ve gone so far as to put it on the record — and just did so again as recently as a couple of weeks ago — that the client was taking the plea against my advice, but that doing so was my client’s option under the law, and not mine to abrogate.

In juvenile cases, I have more than once simply refused to concur. Juvenile cases are different. My express job is to look out for the best interests of my kid, and not just rubber-stamp the immature decision which is too-often based on a usually-false belief that it will get them out of custody quicker.

Despite these tendencies on my part, I still often feel that too many of my cases result in plea agreements. No small part of some people’s calculus is that they don’t want to have to pay more money — sometimes cannot pay more money — for trial. I mean, why not just go with the public defender, then? At least you have a shot. But if you take a plea, you’ve caved, without even a fight. And so, lately, I tinker with my fee schedules to try to encourage more people to fight.

But that only goes so far. After all, I’m (almost never) going to take a case to trial without being paid anything at all. [Read more...]


I Wanna Hold Your Hand

Lost and Confused signpost vertical

A post this morning on “Thinking Like a Lawyer” snapped me to attention. It was perfect in so many ways, but one part in particular told me what I was writing about this morning.

I write this blog for a couple of reasons. The primary reason is that I have things I’m interested in saying, about things that are important to me. So you’ll see posts like the last few which deal with crucial socio-legal issues. Police State issues like Ferguson, for example, or the somewhat related problem with the Criminalization of Everything, police state’s handmaid.

Without specifically making my blog “just another marketing tool,” like too many other lawyers do, I also use my blog to talk to potential clients. To give them an opportunity to know something about me. Because despite over-criminalization, not everyone needing a lawyer is going to know someone who knows enough about a criminal defense lawyer to give a good recommendation. People will say, “Oh, my cousin Vinny is a lawyer,” and, well, okay that might be a good choice. But what about “my cousin Oscar”?

Maybe not so much.

My blog is an opportunity for people who are searching for a lawyer — whether they know someone with a cousin named Vinny, Oscar, or without any cousins at all — to learn a little about me; to get a clue about what type of lawyer I might be.

Me?

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The Sound of Silence

Officer shushing


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Malice in Wonderland

Pet Dinosaur in Wonderland

For a thinking, attentive person who grew up in a free and democratic republic, life in the United States lately almost daily seems like an episode of the Twilight Zone, but with cartoons. One day, you wake up, and find a seven-year-old kid being suspended from school for chewing Pop Tart into the shape of a gun. And it’s not just the school officials who think this warrants a suspension, but their lawyer — their freakin’ lawyer, for goodness sake! — pens a thirty-page opinion that supports the decision to suspend.

A seven-year-old. For eating a Pop Tart. Into a shape. The shape of a gun.

PopTart Gun

Scary, isn’t it?

Your first thought is that this makes John Yoo look almost sane.

But then the next day, it’s a sixteen-year-old, and he’s not just suspended; he’s arrested and charged with a crime.

And the gun doesn’t even have the substance of a Pop Tart. It doesn’t even actually exist, because it’s just the word “gun” in a fictional story. But….

Somebody’s pet dinosaur ends up dead.

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Disrespect Me, and I Will Fuck You Up (Update X2)

Police beating man

In the still-vigorous wake of The Disaster Known As Ferguson Missouri, a “professor of homeland security” — one of those Orwellian titles created after the United States decided that an act of terrorism by foreigners required the government to declare war against its own citizens in order to keep them safe — writes that

It’s not the police, but the people they stop, who can prevent a detention from turning into a tragedy.

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Nationalized House Arrest, the Culmination of Total Control (Updated)

Ferguson residents with hands up.

A couple of weeks or more ago, Fresno criminal defense lawyer Harry Drandel was attacked by the Fresno Sheriff’s Department while trying to enter the courthouse. Harry, who has been an respected attorney since 1983 — that’s thirty-one years — without a single negative mark on his record, was attacked in order to keep the public safe.

I didn’t write about this sooner because I’ve had so much going on, and I needed to try to focus on other things. Scott Greenfield, however, had it covered in his post, “Fresno Deputies and the Terrorists Hiding in Harry Drandel’s Wallet.”

While Fresno appears to have moved on from the incident — we’re fond of forgetting — other parts of the world have been heating up.

Ferguson, for example, where police have even teargassed reporters, and then disassembled their cameras.  [Read more...]


It Starts With The Children

Children

Whenever someone wants to pass a bad law, the sales pitch is nearly always based on the idea that we need to “do it for the children.” I originally titled this post “Do It To The Children,” but as I thought about what I really want to say, “It Starts With The Children” seemed more apropos.

The uninformed would almost get the impression that Americans are all about the children, raising a happy, healthy, wonderful generation of progeny. They would believe that we care about nothing — nothing at all — more than securing a safe, and supportive, childhood.

The truth is a little less sublime.

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