Jul 22 2008

Justice Delayed

Posted by J. Craig Canada in marijuana tickets, marijuana trial
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Justice Delayed is Justice Denied.

I got to court for my arraignment for possession of less than a gram of hash yesterday. What I’m really going to court over is smoking a bowl in a secluded courtyard in Santa Cruz.

But anyway, I got there and was told the D.A. is still reviewing the case and hasn’t decided whether to press charges or not. So I’m to go back on August 11th.

I am not at all happy about this, and I’m sure that’s their objective.

These kind of cat-and-mouse shenanigans have caused me to decide that ALL DEALS ARE OFF. We will have a jury trial for the battery charge, again. We will have a jury trial for the marijuana possession charge. We will have a jury trial for the gram of hash. We MOST CERTAINLY WILL. I am fed up with being robbed. I want my property back.

I look forward to sitting in that witness stand on trial for the next six months through one trial after another after another after another.

I’ve thought about going to the city council meeting and taking the two allotted minutes for public comment to tell them exactly what I think of them, but I would probably end up screaming “Rot In Hell Damn You.”

The current tally is court dates: July 29th, August 11th, August 29th.

Stolen Property: an ounce of marijuana, an eighth or marijuana, at least two pipes, a coffee cup, at least two lighters, nearly a gram of hash; at least $500 so far. And then there’s the $110 bail bond. And at least (I haven’t bothered to add it up) $500 for sleeping on the sidewalk.

Peace of Mind: I haven’t had a moment’s peace for over 3 years. I was tortured with sleep deprivation, lack of toilet facilities, and downright terrorized for THREE YEARS. I was woken up and thrown out in the pouring rain at 3 in the morning. I can’t even write all the ways, it’s too painful.

I realized the other day the case for my glasses was ripped open during a search.

And oh yes, I really found myself resenting having to be searched. Searched to go in the courtroom, searched for smoking a bowl in Abbott Square, searched for sleeping while the rain is pouring down, searched and searched and searched and searched. But evidently I’m to be taught fear here in Compassion Central U.S.A.

Even now, when I have a little privacy, I must still be subjected to strangers going through MY things and destroying them.

The city has spent tens of thousands and is going to spend hundreds of thousands to teach me fear.

And loathing.

The police, the lawyers, the cars and guns and uniforms and courtrooms and judges; is all this really necessary? For little ol’ me? For smoking a joint? Hundreds of thousands of dollars spent? Isn’t that cruel and unusual punishment? Here in Compassion Central U.S.A.?

Doesn’t that seem … insane?


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