Well, I've had about three hours of sleep and have to appear this afternoon before the Court of Appeals for oral argument on a case. It's Halloween!!! Happy Samhain to all you groovy pagan people! : ) The Fall issue of Atomicpetals is finally up...after much delay....but it's done. As for me, I'm gonna go put on my nice green Lauren Bacall- looking suit and try to sound coherent for the dudes in black robes.
catelin: (Default)
( Aug. 25th, 2001 06:06 pm)
Ha!!! A portion of the transcript from closing arguments in the case I just finished a couple of weeks ago. This really cracks me up! I must have been delirious!


JUDGE: Counsel, you have ten minutes left for rebuttal.

MS. COMPTON: Thank you, Your Honor. May it please the Court, Counsel. Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, in order to acquit this defendant you are going to have to believe one of two things. You are going to have to believe that every single one of these boys that testified is a liar, or you are going to have to believe that the man sitting at that table is the unluckiest person in the world. Really. I mean, have you ever heard of anyone with worse luck than this man? No matter where he goes, no matter what he does, no matter who he's with, he somehow always manages to wind up with a young boy's penis in his hand! And on a bad day, on a really bad day, in his mouth!. . . .


That should lift a few eyebrows at the Court of Appeals.
catelin: (Default)
( Aug. 5th, 2001 12:36 pm)
Home from the battle...it's over. Anyone watching him said his legs almost went out from under him when he heard the sentences. Suffice it to say he won't have the chance to do that again...ever. In the meantime, while I worked 18-20 hour days, my grass has died and my kids have grown. I'm skinny from too much coffee and nicotine...and I'm tired enough to sleep a week without even rolling over. I will rid myself of the ugliness still in my head by finishing up with some painting I left half-done, catching up on e-mails, and working on my web site. Life is beautiful.
The key concept to suicide is that you fucking kill YOURSELF. Why is it, then, that someone decides to take some other poor sap along for the ride? I personally have never understood the idea of wanting to make oneself dead. I've got too much of a survivor instinct. You're in a plane crash in the Andes with me, I will be using my pocket knife to make ass steaks. No doubt. But even assuming that there's a bona fide reason for shortening your stay on the planet, why include someone else in that? As usual, my question relates to a case I'm working on. Aside from being the vivacious bon vivant my friends all know and love, I'm an ATF-trained arson prosecutor. You'd never know by looking, eh? Oh, and I mean the training on how to investigate and prosecute arsons, not how to commit them. Just figured I'd make that clear, in light of that pesky ATF/Waco dealio. So I've got this case comes across my desk where one guy decides he's going to blow himself to bits. Efficient. I have no problem with that, as long as it's away from others. However, he decides to do it in his place of employment. Pulls out the gas stove from the wall, turns the radio on, and sits down for the long sleep. A neighbor boy, about 20, smells gas. He sees the guy and runs in to pull him out of the small building. Well, suicide king gets pissed and ends up igniting the gas...building goes boom. Boy of twenty now has burns over fifty percent of his body and may not live. Suicide king has burns, but of course, not nearly as serious as the poor kid who went in to save his sorry ass. The rub in all this is that 20-year-old good Samaritan's mother got to stand by the sidelines and watch her son's clothes burn onto his body. Right in front of her eyes. Man. No good deed goes unpunished. Sometimes it sure seems that way.
On the jury trial menu this week--a new twist on the famous diet. Our spokesperson? A 3-time loser who left his toddler in the car at Subway with the windows open and the keys inside. Lost at least 20 pounds right there. How can I get on this new fad diet you ask? Well, instead of ordering a tasty sandwich, you lock yourself in the bathroom, shoot up some crank; then crawl into the ceiling when you hear the cops looking for the parents of the child you left in the car. Cued by the rave-inspired strobe effect of the cop's flashlight, you take a brisk aerobic spin around the ceiling tiles until you come crashing down into the manager's office. Check your heart rate. Not high enough? A nice dive through the plate glass window should get you right into your fat-burning zone. Once the police have you cuffed you can still diminish yourself further by looking at your crying child and telling the cops, "That ain't my kid."
catelin: (Default)
( Jan. 7th, 2001 11:41 pm)
Sometimes I really hate Sundays. Maybe it's facing another week of court, trials, briefs, defense attorneys, judges, etc. when I'd much rather be staying home hanging out with my kids. They grow so fast that I'm afraid all I'm going to remember are blurs...like the pictures you get when the shutter speed on the camera is too slow. Maybe it's that my boss chewed me out last week because I gave a guy a softer deal than most because he was going to be deported if I didn't. I started crying in the middle of all this from sheer bewilderment that he didn't see that I was trying to do justice, not thwart it. (I'm one of those poor souls for whom crying is like sweating--the harder I try not to, the more I cry.) I still think I did the right thing. He still thinks I fucked up. Whatever. Maybe it's that, as much as I like working hard, I still get a little jealous of my friends who "married well" and don't work at all. I think it's really just that I'm still lazy and sluggish after the holidays. Ah, well. Tomorrow will come and I'll be back in the groove--fightin' the bad guys--trying to figure out who the bad guys really are.
catelin: (Default)
( Dec. 19th, 2000 08:42 pm)
Had a very interesting morning. This kid (looked to be about 18 or 19) was up before the bench being sentenced for an assault and a theft. The judge gave him probation but added on a 60 day jail term as a condition. I'm sitting there watching this kid...watching his face. In the split second it took me to recognize the classic "fight or flight" look, he bounded over the counsel table and made a break for it! I mean, this kid hauled ass--jumping over the bailiff, over people in chairs in the gallery, trampled a couple of defense attorneys and was out the door! They caught him in an alley a few minutes later and dragged him back into the courtroom. Turned out he had freaked out because he'd been doing coke all morning and thought they were gonna piss test him at the jail. Poor, stupid kid...more balls than brains, from a shitty home with shitty parents who couldn't even be bothered to show up in court today. No wonder he wanted to run away. It's these future inmates that are the most depressing. Caught half-way between boy and man, you can still see shadows of the little kids that they were before they learned from the people around them to treat themselves like garbage. It's only a matter of time before I see him again...and he'll be older, harder, and meaner. We call it a justice system. Days like today, I'm not so sure that's the best name for it.


catelin: (Default)


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