Archive for November, 2009

Eeny, Meeny, Miny NO SOUP FOR YOU (and other tales of justice)

You want bread? Three dollars!

You want bread? Three dollars!

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, goes the counting rhyme, the primary use of which is to select someone random to be “it” in a game. As anyone who’s ever used this rhyme knows, it’s rather easy to manipulate the rhyme (or where you start it) to “randomly” select a predetermined person.

The prosecutor’s office in San Diego is rather more blatant about its singling out of a judge to be “it”:

San Diego Superior Court Judge John Einhorn, who has presided over many high-profile cases, [...] is under a boycott from the District Attorney’s Office.

For about two months, Einhorn has been under a “blanket challenge” by the prosecutor’s office. That means any time a case is assigned for trial to Einhorn, prosecutors use a legal tactic called a peremptory challenge to block the case from going to the judge.

If this happened in Texas, I’d shrug it off as another installment of “It only happens in Texas”, but this is California, the land of the free and the home of the Governator.  Maybe some of our California brethren can inform us what this “peremptory challenge” is. Is it a device of state law or just state procedural rules? Regardless, the fact that the prosecutor’s office has employed this tactic against a solitary judge for two months straight should raise some eyebrows and concerns about their motivation and their role, aka “justice”. When asked for comment, this is all the prosecutor’s office could muster:

“This decision was made after careful consideration and thoughtful review over an extended period of time,” she said. “It is a judgment call made in the best interests of our clients, the People of the State of California, and the cases we are prosecuting.”

Normally, one would replace those sentences with something like this: “This decision was made after some anecdotal evidence that this Judge doesn’t accede to our every demand and seems to have some sympathy for criminals who rape and murder your children and those illegals who cross over the border to steal our jobs. Thus, since he has respect for the Constitution and there is no place for such liberal namby-pambying in the criminal justice system, which means we can’t bully our way into raising our conviction numbers which is all we really care about, we’re going to throw a hissy fit and say to him: NO SOUP FOR YOU!”

Okay, maybe not that last bit. But here, there seems to be no reason for the prosecutor’s office to be disenchanted with Judge Einhorn:

Gravy for your turkey

I can has cheezburger?

I can has cheezburger?

Or wine with your dine. Or “if the trytophan won’t get you, these links sure will”.

  • Sex offenders in CT still have no place to go. It’s Norm Pattis’ turn to rant against this.
  • A Michigan prosecutor is complaining about lack of funding. Maybe someone should teach him how to count.
  • Another prosecutor does some shady stuff, a Court has the stuffing to reject immunity, and now the prosecutor wants SCOTUS to intervene.
  • Don Pesci takes a look at Hartford’s community court, which I wrote about almost exactly a year ago.
  • Proud to go to jail for housing the homeless (via).
  • Corporal punishment using reasonable physical force for maintaining discipline is a defense [pdf] to the amorphous Risk of Injury.
  • Ryan McKeen tells us about “CT’s Great Turkey Case” in honor of Turkey Law Week.
  • Dave Chappelle on the age of consent and stuff.
  • Foreperson prevents juror from informing judge that they couldn’t reach a verdict. Court finds no problem with it.
  • Maybe the tryptophan got to them already: Obama late in issuing first pardon and SCOTUS is late in issuing first opinion.
  • CDW’s weekly edition is out.

Bonus for finding the hidden link.

Why people think criminal defense lawyers are scum (updated x2)

Exhibit B.

It seems to me that someone thought they were being artistic. The pictures, to be honest, aren’t half bad. It’s the subject matter of the pictures that is extremely questionable. Here are the worst offenders:

So, after looking at these I bet you’re curious what they have for the rest. The rest are as unimaginative and boring as these are offensive and stupid. Here’s Murder and here‘s [I have to warn you: that image is really, really gross. No nudity or anything, but..just...be careful and do not blame me for clicking on it] what it should have been. Here’s violent crimes, but  I think this would fit better with their theme. The only one that I think really works in money laundering (hey! someone’s got a sense of humor!).

Update: An intrepid reader provides a picture of what real money laundered money would look like. I want to swim in it.

Update-Update: The Texas Tornado points out that it’s a findlaw website, but someone still had to approve the damn thing.

Anyway, somebody better take screencaps quick before they change the images.

I have to ask: What is wrong with people?

H/T

Monday Morning Jumpstart

Handy

With great power comes great current squared times resistance

Ack! What is this? An edition of Monday Morning Jumpstart? Why, yes! What with my blooming campaign for Governor, I figure it’s time that I revive this once-loved, but much-maligned feature (at least for this week). It does help that there have been plenty of stories around the blawgosphere worth reading. So, in my own pedantic way, here are the best:

  • Bobby G has a trilogy of interesting posts on SCOTUS’ decision in Montejo v. Louisiana and the fallout from it.
  • Scott “I am the blawgosphere” Greenfield has an interesting post on justice and the role of the criminal defense lawyer (along with some advice for young lawyers), which resulted in this follow up by Rick Horowitz. My recent post tangentially related to justice is here.
  • Here‘s Reason magazine’s take on the story of the newspaper editor who got a commenter fired. (Here’s this blog’s comment policy. We won’t get you fired.)
  • It’s harmless error to permit a police detective to testify wearing a ski mask (my lengthy post on this). You can read the decision here [pdf].
  • The Government will not appeal the Lori Drew dismissal.
  • What does prosecutorial and judicial immunity from suit really mean?
  • Judge as advocate: 89 questions to a witness is okay.

That’s all. Now get to work.
Creative Commons License photo credit: NoWin

Face-to-ski mask: a defendant’s right to confront his cat burglar

Do you feel lucky?

Do you feel lucky?

I’m not quite sure how to introduce this story (and the case that it covers) in a pithy manner, so I’m just going to get to it: New Hampshire’s Supreme Court recently ruled that it’s okay for a police officer to testify at a criminal trial while wearing a ski-mask to protect his identity because he was working in an undercover unit at the time of the trial.

Yes, you read that right. In State of New Hampshire v. Jose Hernandez, a police officer who had conducted an interview with the complaining witness was permitted to sit there like a cat burglar, with a ski mask on his face. The State’s reasoning – bought by the trial court – was that the officer’s identity needed to be protected. Nevermind the fact that the jury viewed the interview with the complainant in which his face was uncovered and that everyone knew his name. Oh and that pesky Confrontation Clause thing.

Let’s look at that. The Confrontation Clause provides that:

In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to [...] be confronted with the witnesses against him.

Federal court decisions have interpreted this to mean eyeball-to-eyeball confrontation. The confrontation clause affords the criminal defendant two types of protections: “the right physically to face those who testify against him, and the right to conduct cross-examination.” Pennsylvania v. Ritchie, 480 U.S. 39 (1987). And there’s a reason for this. The accuser, or any other witnesses on the accusers behalf, should have to face not only the defendant, but the jury that is deciding the defendant’s fate. The jury should have the opportunity to observe the witness and the witnesses reactions and demeanor.

The Connecticut Supreme Court has not yet considered (that I could find) whether a witness testifying in disguise violates the Confrontation Clause. It has, however, considered whether an accuser can testify outside the presence of the defendant and not in court. In State v. Jarzbek, the Court permitted the videotaping of a minor who had accused the defendant of sexual abuse. While the court in Jarzbek ultimately permitted the introduction of videotaped testimony instead of live testimony at the trial, the jury had the opportunity to observe the demeanor of the complainant. Jarzbek, however, emphasized the importance of having the ability to look the accuser (or by extrapolation a witness) in the eye and having that witness face the jury:

Slogan contest part duh

Festivus for the rest'uv'us

Festivus for the rest'uv'us

As most of you may or may not know, I am running for Governor of the great State of Connecticut. You can follow my Gubernatorial overtures on twitter and in keeping with one of my many, many promises, I am bringing governing back to the people.

So, here’s a little contest for you common folk: help me design the campaign t-shirts that I will sell to you for a fee to fund my campaign. In return, I will receive your vote and make a donation in your name to the Human Fund.

What I need from you (besides your vote) is a witty slogan. Brian Tannebaum set things off in the right direction with this gem: “Gideon for Governor: Moving Connecticut in the Wainwright direction”.

Can you do better? Think Tannebaum’s a punk and want to show him up? This is your chance! Leave a comment and the wittiest slogan (or two) will make its way onto an extremely overpriced t-shirt [here's a sample].

God Bless Connecticut.

It’s a game of numbers

And a game it is.

Every so often, because that is the nature of the beast, a judge will ask the lawyers during a pre-trial if they’re “ready to put numbers” on it. Either today, or next time. Numbers: the sanitized way of saying “let the dance begin”. When cases are thought of in terms of numbers, it’s easy to be dispassionate, to be detached from the sad reality underlying the wheeling and dealing.

Numbers are a way to numb yourself to the concept of incarceration. And numbers are common place. Sometimes I think numbers are thrown around without any regard to their actual value. Just as in science, numbers have no meaning if they don’t have units. Take this example:

Try this problem: a train of length 2, weighing 200, travels from Denver to Santa Fe at 15. How long did the trip take?

Yeah, that means nothing, right? Just as I feel that often “numbers on a case” mean nothing to the parties uttering the words. 10/5/3 is a common refrain. 20, 25, 30. As the numbers keep getting bigger, they shed meaning.

10/5/3, in our terms, is a sentence of 10 years’ incarceration, suspended after 5 years of jail time, followed by 3 years on probation. But when you say 10/5/3, you can avoid ugly words like jail time or incarceration. And we throw around numbers like candy. “Well the State wants 12/6/5. What’s your counter-offer? Make it reasonable.”

Reasonable. What’s reasonable? It’s a barter, a trading of liberties for wrongs committed. The whole thing is ugly. And yet it may be the only dignified way of resolving criminal prosecutions. Going to trial is easy. Declining to prosecute is easy. It’s this numbers game that the most difficult part.

What do we do when “put numbers” on a case? We assign an arbitrary value to the actions of one person, usually against another. What’s taken into account? The injury, society’s view of the heinousness of that act, the loss to the victim, the propensity of the offender to offend again and rarely the person who committed the act. But it’s still arbitrary in the end. Because they’re just numbers to us. None of us – the judge, the prosecutor or me – have to actually do the time. It’s easier to say “20″, when you don’t have to worry about what it really means.

It’s a struggle, honestly. A struggle between my acknowledgment that society has to exact its revenge for crimes committed against it, my duty to my client, my pragmatism and ultimately my utter horror that we are about to deprive someone of their freedom for any period of time.

I have a really difficult time telling a client to accept a plea offer that involves any jail time, let alone numbers in double digits. I do it, because I would be a lousy lawyer if I didn’t. But every time I hear a number, or utter a number, all I can think of is if I had to do that time: the things I’ve done over that time span going backwards; the things I will do going forward. And then I look at the man sitting in front of me and realize that there is no hope. That we’ve treated years of his life like chips in a game of poker. They wanted 5, I offered 3, we settled for 4.

There has got to be a better way.

Wednesday is Sunday stupidity

Because I got nothin’, I give you this video. Lolcat FTW.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1l7prksbcDo[/youtube]

Non sum qualis eram

From the NYTimes comes this heartwarming story of one of the nation’s elite universities privately funding an educational program in one of CT’s toughest prisons. Starting this year, Wesleyan brings its excellent curriculum and stringent admission requirements to prison, in an effort to educate and rehabilitate inmates, something the State of Connecticut and the DOC  have long given up.

For 19 spots, there were 120 applications, and rightly so. This program presents an unique opportunity: to get a high-level education and to attempt to rebuild one’s life and prepare for an eventual release into a world that won’t acknowledge their existence (for some).  There are several remarkable things about this program. One of them is that the crime of conviction is not a factor in who gets accepted into the program. So whether you’re a murderer or someone who was selling drugs, you have an equal shot at getting accepted. The second feature that struck me was that while there is no guarantee that graduates of this program will get a degree from Wesleyan, they will be entitled to access to career services upon release.

Imagine that! Inmates will have somewhere to go, armed with an education and the possibility of a degree and get assistance in finding a job. The State should be ashamed of itself.

Reading this article, I learned some things about Wesleyan and its tradition and history:

But the university has a long history of civic engagement that traces back to its Methodist roots. It is named after John Wesley, an 18th-century minister who championed prison reform and helping the downtrodden. Two students, Russell Perkins and Molly Birnbaum, who had volunteered in prisons as students, revived the idea last year when they were seniors and figured out a way to finance it.

What’s even more stunning is that this proposal was scheduled for a vote the very same day that a student at Wesleyan was gunned down in a bookstore. The school merely postponed the vote 2 weeks and during that subsequent vote, it was approved. Goes to show you that to recognize that not all “criminals” are the same, you merely have to have your head screwed on straight.

Of course, this brings the usual din of dissent and cries of “wah, you’re helping those scum criminals” from the usual suspects. I don’t have very many good things to say about the State’s victim’s advocate (none, really), so I’ll just quote her and let it speak for itself:

Another conviction reversed: Exhibit n for no prosecutorial immunity

In what is becoming routine, another conviction was reversed this past week in New York, this one too based on the eyewitness testimony of 5 individuals. This, though, isn’t the usual case of mistaken ID nor is it a DNA exoneration.

Convicted of murder in 1992, Fernando Bermudez has wrongly been in jail for 17 years. Interestingly, it took only a year from his conviction for the eyewitnesses to recant citing police and prosecutorial pressure and manipulation:

A year after Mr. Bermudez’s 1992 conviction, five witnesses who had identified him as the killer at trial recanted, saying in sworn affidavits that, they were coerced or manipulated by the police and prosecutors to identify Mr. Bermudez as the killer. Several of those witnesses reiterated their recantations in September at a hearing before Justice Cataldo.

Not only that, but all 5 testified at the most recent hearing that they viewed his mugshot as a group and discussed his likeness to the killer: a big no-no in photo array identifications. All the science in this field shows that we have a tendency to compare pictures to each other and to what we think the suspect looks like and pick the one that most closely resembles the person sought to be identified, instead of picking the person who actually is. If you don’t believe me, try this simple test from expert Gary Wells‘ website.

In his 79-page decision, Justice Cataldo wrote that Mr. Bermudez’s rights were violated because the police had allowed prosecution witnesses to view Mr. Bermudez’s mug shot as a group and to discuss his resemblance to the killer. Justice Cataldo also found that the prosecution should have known before sentencing that one of its cooperating witnesses, Efraim Lopez — a teenager whom Mr. Blount had punched at the club — had given false testimony.

But that doesn’t deter prosecutors. In fact, they’re so wedded to the notion that once a conviction is obtained it must be defended at all costs – and certainly one where the reversal is based in part on misbehavior by one of their own – that they utter nonsense like the following:

Life on the inside: an inmate’s view

For two months now, the Ann Arbor chronicle has been publishing the Washtenaw Jail Diary, a series of chapters by a former inmate at that jail, chronicling his life behind bars and his experiences. Interestingly, the content of the chapters were originally published as tweets, but later taken down and deleted. This unnamed inmate is now in the process of writing a book, it seems, while at the same time publishing these stories in the newspaper. They’re up to the third chapter and you can find all the installments here.

The latest installment, Chapter 3, is of particular interest to me, because in it he writes about “The Public Pretender”:

I still cannot decide if I had decent representation within the parameters of the “McJustice” doled out via the overworked Public Defender’s office and the backroom horse trading that goes on. If I could have afforded a real lawyer, one with “connections,” would I have done as much jail time? I do not know the answer to that. I tend to think that I would have gone free sooner. But I will never know for sure.

I am taken from my block and brought to a room back near the dreaded holding tanks, meeting with the person with whom I am to entrust my life. And here, in front of me, is Clarence fucking Darrow, himself – all bluster and a bit cartoonish, reveling, it seems to me, in being the center of attention. He is surrounded by assistants, interns, law students – almost all of whom, I am strangely curious to discover, are attractive young women.

The Pretender tells me that I am not the usual kind of person he represents, since I am apparently well-spoken and educated. But that does not prevent him from launching into street lingo, some of which I ask him to translate for me. He speaks this way out of habit, I am guessing, to try to win the trust of his usual crop of clients.

I have mixed feelings about my Pretender. Do I want what appears to me to be a snake oil salesman representing my interests in these felony cases? Maybe this is exactly the kind of person I need on my side. The lawyer in my misdemeanor cases seemed much too timid for me – in fact, agreeing with the prosecutor in court.

But there’s more. For instance, this handy guide to writing a successful “speech to the judge”:

Major ingredients for a successful speech to a judge include:

1. Apologize to the court, to the community and to any victims harmed and admit your mistakes.
2. Talk about what you are doing while in jail to further your education, help the jail community or help control destructive behavior (AA, Alternatives to Domestic Abuse, GED, etc.).
3. Discuss your job possibilities after you return to the community and the support system of family and friends that awaits you.
4. Mention family members, teachers, members of the community who might have written letters to the judge on your behalf.

Do not:

1. Insist you are innocent.
2. Tell a hard-luck story about yourself and your family.
3. Fail to address the court clearly and with respect.

Title bout in GA: death penalty vs. no money

This seems to have been a week of heavyweight fights.  Last night some guy named Pacquaio rearranged the face of some dude named Cotto and earlier in the week, in the state of “even Brian Nichols didn’t get death”, aka Georgia, the well oiled machinery of state sponsored murder took on the almighty dollar.

Yes, that was a very convoluted way of saying that the GA Supreme Court heard oral argument in the case of Jamie Ryan Weis, who’s sat in pre-trial confinement for 4 years awaiting a death penalty trial. For the first two years of his confinement, he didn’t even have counsel. The reason? GA has no money. Not for him and not for the 70 or so other capital defendants.

The state high court’s decision, expected next year, will set an important precedent. Numerous death-penalty trials across the state have been delayed because there has been no money to pay defense lawyers, investigators, expert witnesses and mitigation specialists.

In recent weeks, the state Office of the Capital Defender has not had enough lawyers to fully defend all of the approximately 70 death cases pending statewide. This includes two defendants charged in the July 26 slaying in Atlanta of former pro boxing champion Vernon Forrest.

Georgia court rules call for a capital defendant to be represented by two experienced attorneys. But because of overwhelming case loads, the capital defender office has been able to provide only one lawyer each for Charman Sinkfield and Jquante Crews, two of three men charged with Forrest’s murder.

Not only “Georgia court rules”, but ABA standards as well require two lawyers on each capital case. Anything but is sure to result in a reversal. So why doesn’t Georgia have any money to pay for an adequate defense? I’m glad you asked:

So long, farewell, don’t let the door hit you on your way out

[Alternate post titles: So long and thanks for all the blog fodder; This just in: The Law now has a weak pulse]

So, it’s probably unnatural and unhealthy to be so giddy upon learning that Gov. Rell has decided not to seek re-election, but as most of you know, I can’t stand the woman. And that’s putting it mildly. I let out an audible yell yesterday when Ann Nyberg tweeted that she wasn’t going to run. My colleagues looked at me, much like they always do, like I had three heads. So maybe my disdain of the American Idol Governor knows no bounds.

But there’s good reason. After all, she has singlehandedly done so much to create such a disregard for the law and the rule of law, that sometimes I wonder who is worse: the law-breaking “criminals” she sought to protect our white community from or the law-ignoring bureaucrat.

She was the most dangerous of the “tough on crime” pols: sweet, nurturing, grandmotherly. She would lull everyone into sleep with her gentle affect and then decree the most outrageous acts of lawlessness this State has seen this decade.

First, there was Cheshire. Oh boy was there Cheshire. The brutal crimes in a white suburban neighborhood served not only to rouse the Governor from her mid-term siesta, but also had the side-effect of completely blinding her to common sense, and well, the rule of law. So the first thing she decided to do (well, sort of) was ban parole. That lasted for 4 months and resulted in severe overcrowding and a tremendous burden on state resources. That’s when Colin McEnroe coined the moniker “The American Idol Governor“. I still can’t get enough of that. She then proposed some truly scary and not very well thought out “reforms” of the criminal justice system, some of which unfortunately made it into law. Then she wanted CT to have a three-strikes law, in the face of all scientific research on its uselessness. Then came the unhinging, aka, “The David Pollitt Project“. I’m not even going to touch that. And finally, the veto of the death penalty abolition bill.

I write all of this, not to disparage her, but to remind myself and you  – voters all – of the absolute effing nonsense we’ve had to put up with these past few years. Will any of the people who’ve announced they’re running for Governor be any better? They almost have to, don’t they, because it can’t get much worse than this.

So while I wish her well in her personal life and hope that her health remains strong, I will not be sad to see her become former Governor Rell. I’m not sure there was a person less equipped to take on that job.

And now, on to the big question. What needs to be done? The first response is obvious: abolish the death penalty. But there are so many more things that need to be changed about the criminal justice system in our State. In my mind, there’s only one candidate who is qualified to do that. So, you guys can be the first to hear it: I am hereby announcing my candidacy for the Governor of the State of Connecticut and I will be running on the Smart on Crime platform for the “It must be easy; she did it for so long” party.

More details about the, well, details of my platform will follow in subsequent posts. I’m now going to go and do a cartwheel.

Cross racial, gender Epic Fail

trying to figure out?

trying to figure out?

H/T: 4th, via who else

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