About a year ago the Indiana Supreme Court ruled that your response to a crooked cop barging into your home should be to roll over and play dead. 

This idea that police can go where they want, when they want, for good reason or ill -- or none at all -- could be tested in Iowa.

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In Des Moines, Cynthia King and Tavius King cohabited. No other relationship is noted. Cynthia and Tavius fell out, and she booted him from the apartment. Tavius called the cops, proved he once lived there,  and wanted them to help him get his clothes.  Cynthia came out, announced that this no-good ex-cohabiter was not coming back into her home, and slammed the door, giving one of the police officers an owie.

 The door hit Officer Greg Trimble’s hand and foot as he tried to keep it open and avoid it from hitting him, police said.


A little later she unlocked the door and was cuffed up, charged with interfering with official acts and assaulting a cop.


Sounds to me like the wrong person went to jail, but maybe that's just my notorious Fourth Amendment crankery. Sounds to me like Officer Greg got excited, assaulted the door and, by extension, Cynthia who was in intimate contact with it. Sounds to me like...


--The cops had no warrant to invade Cynthia's home.


--No "hot pursuit" exception to the Fourth Amendment existed because no crime had been committed, or even alleged.


--Some cop public relations REMF has a lot of trouble with kinetic concepts. Most of us will have trouble with the idea that Greg was trying to hold the door open without making contact with it.


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It's a ham-and-egg case, and perhaps Cynthia will pay the two dollars. If so, too bad. It would be nice to see this one hashed out in an atmosphere of Constitutional concern

With apologies to Lawdog

On the one paw, don't we pay police officers in part for adequate marksmanship?

Officers ______ and ______  responded to the 1300 block of College Avenue on a report of shots being fired. _________said he approached the scene with his weapon drawn and saw the dog running at full speed toward him and _______. He said he shot three times with his handgun, and the dog ran away. It was not hit.


On the other paw, a dog charging head on doesn't present much center mass, so maybe we should give Officer Friendly a pass.


On the third paw, don't we pay journalists for a certain completeness in their reports?  There not a syllable of explanation of the "shots being fired" call which led to the Fido confrontation.


That leaves me with one paw to spare. Put 'er there, Pawdner. 

Father of the Year

I understand the impulse to call the cops on your teenage kid.  It's an urge a father should resist, and I predict a bad outcome for a family down in Everly.

The head of the household was rooting around in his 17-year-old's bedroom. He found a little pot and some drug paraphernalia, so he called the sheriff and invited Officer Friendly to search the rest of the house. More contraband was discovered, and Pops waved bye-bye to Junior as the forces of law and order hauled him off to  the clink.

Family values, eh?

Better alternatives suggest themselves. You might have been able to talk to the kid. If not, a boxing lesson was in order, from you if you're fit enough or otherwise  from a well-muscled uncle, maybe. Choosing to invite the po-po to handle your family dysfunction leads to problems you weren't smart enough to think of. Among them:

1. Sooner or later the cops are going to send him back, and Father's Day at your house is likely to be a restrained celebration.

2. You're probably stuck with him for longer than you planned. The arrest makes him a good deal less employable. Even the Army won't be anxious to take him off your hands.

3. If your motive was to teach the lad a good lesson, you undoubtedly did: "My Old Man is a Treacherous Bastard."  

Sinful Sunday Thought

I have a small project in mind. Strictly speaking, it requires a building permit. Even more strictly, the  building permit will not be issued without a variance because I live in a "nonconforming structure." That is, my little house, on about  one and 1/4 acres, sets only 30 feet from the rear property line. The Smugleye-on-Lake Commissariat requires 35 feet. No credit is given for the the 200 feet of grass and trees in front of the house even though the greensward fans out to a generous 310 feet along the road.

It costs $200  (actually, about the cost of the project istelf)  to beg for a variance. Nonrefundable.  The zoning czars and the variance czars will get around to saying da or nyet in a matter of mere weeks or months.

So, since the project would change no footprint, would be unnoticeable to neighbors,  and could probably be done without alerting the zoning checka, I'm thinking just going ahead and pleading ignorance or something if my victimless crime comes to official notice.

But that isn't the sinful impulse.

One of the village council commissars peddles used cars. After the customer agrees to the deal, he tacks on a "documentation" fee, that is, he makes the sucker pay for his paperwork. (light bulb in the text balloon)

I write up the variance request, cut the check, fill out the long building permit form, and let the SOL bureaucracy play with itself until the issue is settled. I then surprise the Smugleye Politburo with a dun, my documentation fee. "Net 30 days; 1 1/2 per cent per month on the unpaid balance thereafter...Thank you for your business!"

I respond to nothing they say, just keep sending "Past Due!" notices and, when the fun of that wears off, file a small-claims action.  That costs $30, and -- even with the variance fee -- it strikes me as cheap thrills. -- even if I don't slip a tip to a reporter friend known for her weird sense of humor.

Hey Jack, you seen my boots?

Let's say this college student got caught in a dragnet. Let's say he was hauled to a California Lubyanka. Let's say he was told he would be released and driven home. Let's say he was then tossed into a tiny holding cell and left there for five days, without food, water, or a toilet.  The reason? "We just forgot."

And let's add, just for good measure, that the jailers accidentally left a dose or two of meth in that cell.

Now, what would you call authorities like that? Incompetent? Criminally insane? Thugs? Guards-in-training for the next Dachau?

Wrong, Bunkie. You should call them dedicated employees of your federal government, specifically of the Drug Enforcement Administration.

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Gun theft by convenience

I probably wouldn't have bothered mentioning this one, but just as I was closing the story, an object lesson caught my eye. Note the address of the theft and, in the final paragraph, the home of one of the accused.

Lesson: don't let the stoner kid next door know you have a gun collection.
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How not to use a gun

Taking the report at face value, we have a good little lesson for people just beginning to study the use of firearms for self-defense.

When you stand at your third-story window, high above the belligerent nincompoop yelling and stomping your car,  you are probably well short of the standard that justifies shooting.  This is one of the cases where calling the cops seems more reasonable. You can always keep the 10-22 handy in case the idiot follows through on his threat to kick in your door.

The accused claims he shot to scare, usually  a bad idea, and didn't mean to hit the  deceased in the chest. So maybe it's also an opportunity to sketch for your student  the path of a bullet flying at much of an angle from line of sight horizontal.  "She's gonna throw high, Bro."

Don't mess with old people

Somehow I doubt Jay Leone of Marin County, California, is about to get a nice congratulatory card from his Senator Boxer.

Mr. Leone is 90, seems fit , and is without doubt feisty. A burglar got in and shot him in the head.

Now, there are a lot of  possible reactions to that sort of affront, including trying to call 911 before you die. But Mr. Leone's was, "F---- you, you son of a bitch. Now it's my turn." Whereupon he got his SW .38 snubby and emptied it, hitting one Samuel Joseph Cutrufelli thrice in the stomach.


Burglar Sam is one of those rare Californians without a highly developed social conscience. If he had one he would have  reclined and quietly bled to death, dreaming his last dreams of aromatherapy and unleaded condors.


He survived to become an expensive public charge, accused of attempted murder and other sins.


So far no one has proposed indicting Mr. Leone for anything.  


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I recommend reading the story for its funny scatalogical deails and the grace with which reporter Gary Klien tells the tale of Mr. Leone's testimony.


H/T Nephew Mike

Two Magic Guns

And one was extra magic. Not only did a brand new 9mm pistol fall from a "case" and go off by itself, but it did so without having been loaded. The empty, self-discharging weapon propelled a projectile though the apartment floor and into the fellow who lives one floor down.

The other gun, also brand new, magically disappeared in the few hours after leaving the gun store and before cops came to arrest the 19-year-old son for reckless use a a firearm and shooting in the city limits.

His mother (of the year) said she bought the two guns for about $1000.  She draws $300 weekly unemployment pay. The cops said her little boy had "several thousand dollars" in his pocket when  he was arrested. My crack instincts suggest another mystery here.

(Edited to delete factual error.)

Traffic-cam extortion

The story lead is a warm fuzzy for the libertarian soul.

"The classic democratic tension between liberty and security was tested once again Wednesday in a debate on legislation to ban traffic-enforcement cameras on Iowa roads..."  

Even better, liberty won the first of the warmup bouts, 3-0, in subcommittee.

The report doesn't mention any great debate about raping the Constitution.* Irritated citizens sat on one side of the table and the usual authoritarians -- cops, city taxing authorities, etc. -- on the other. "It's for your own good, your safety," blatted the former. The citizens carried the day with a highly accurate response: "Boooll sheet, you greedy creeps."

It's early in the sausage-making process, but at least it's a hopeful development.

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*Amendments Five and Fourteen are clear enough in telling government it can not screw around with your "life, liberty, or property" without "due process of law."  It seems damned doubtful the Founders would have deemed a dun from a company of IT geeks in Snottsdale to constitute due process of law. Even if they are part of that sacred public/private partnership congregation.

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(Does this argument get us thinking about the general concept of "administrative forfeiture?" Ought to.)

Well I'll be a simulated SOB

It is against the law in Iowa to pretend to be drunk  in the park.

I'm safe enough cuz I write most all of my stuff snug in my Camp J sanctuary. But I guess it means I can never go Wi-Fi mobile.

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JAGSC -- anyone-- what the Hell kind of reasoning creates a law like this?

Okay, so I'm ignorant of the law

I'm not a real criminal, but I play one on the internet, so I'm surprised to find a new crime I didn't know about.

Over in Osage, someone called the cops because an ER nurse was acting funny, and the wheels of justice turned.

(She) faces one count of possession of drug paraphernalia, one count of simulated public intoxication and one count of theft as well as three counts of possession of a controlled substance and one count of possession of contraband in a correctional facility. She’s pleaded not guilty.

Simulated  public intox?  Does that mean we can lock up the Reverend Mister Al Sharpton, too?

Jury Frees Grass Granny; Notorious Drug Lord Walks

A little more than a year ago a little old lady in Connellsville,  Pennsylvania was pottering about in her garden when a kindly,  bearded stranger in a pointy hat handed her some seeds.  She tossed them in her garden and shortly, fee-fie-fo-fum.

No. Wait.

And shortly they grew into seven beautiful marijuana plants, lovingly nurtured by Grandma who just thought they looked nice next to her tomatoes. Didn't know what they were, she said.

That didn't stop a nosy neighbor from squealing, nor did it stay the bold crime-fighters of southwest Pennsylvania. "On the ground, Gramma, You're busted. Do it now!"


And that high-priority law enforcement mission won her a year in the system until this week when a jury cleared her of drug possession and manufacturing charges.

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At 67, Granny was born about 1945 and achieved maturity in the Age of Aquarius, or the Stoned Age, so I'm adding a pinch of salt to her story about not recognizing a pot plant, not to mention the pointy-capped stranger.

So what?

Two beautiful words: Jury Nullification.

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H/T to Phyllis in Kalinky, my faithful Appalachia correspondent

Blam. From the Mother of the Year

Mrs. McKinley is 18, a mother, and a widow since Christmas. New Year's found her with a phone to 911 in one hand and a 12-gauge double in the other as two hoodlums tried to break into her house.

The 911 call turned out to be as useful as a letter to her congressman.  She was kept on the line 21 minutes. No cop appeared to help. The shotgun worked better.


The 911 dispatcher confirmed with McKinley that the doors to her home were locked as  she asked again if it was okay to shoot the intruder if he were to come through her door.

"I can't tell you that you can do that but you do what you have to do to protect your baby," the dispatcher told her. McKinley was on the phone with 911 for a total of 21 minutes.

Mrs. McKinley, you do not need Big Brother's permission to keep breathing when a guy with a knife kicks in your door. Or, for that matter, without a knife.

Nitpicking the news story: There was a lot of emphasis on the lady protecting her infant. That may make the cheese more binding, but our heroine had exactly the same right to protect only herself. And the post facto teevee tape was  tacky even by the standards of that tasteless industry.

Well done, Young Lady.

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Somewhere in the land a sensitive soul wails,  "Horrific!!! Why didn't she just shoot the knife out of his hand?"

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h/t To ASM at Random Acts of Patriotism

(link fixed)

It's a start, but ...

The SEC has decided to charge some Fannie Mae and Freddy Mac honchos with civil fraud, saying they misled the government and taxpayers about risky subprime mortgages ...

Note "civil" charges, meaning they're just being asked nicely to return what was stolen and maybe pay a penalty -- probably large enough to cut a couple of weeks off their vacations in the Hamptons next summer.

No jail for them, unlike some poor schmuck who got caught lifting a set of hub caps from parked car in Newark.

Look, if these guys profited by lying through their teeth about the value of the junk mortgages they bought and sold, they're criminals. And they have a lot of company in the genteel world of Crony (which it is) Capitalism (which it is not).

My guess is that the guilty total something in the thousands. Together they created misery and sometimes absolute poverty for hundredsof thousands of decent enough (though often, admittedly,  dense) Americans.

Holder, this is the time to uncage your most rabid prosecutor, some brilliant guy with a night-school law degree, halitosis, and a badass attitude. Slip his leash and say sic-em.

Meanwhile Hillary can open negotiations to buy the old Frog prison on Devil's Island. A guy does hate to think of the Armanied thieves serving their 40 years in such a nice tropical climate, but we can compensate by making bug repellent contraband.

Adult language warning

I've developed the obnoxious habit of checking into MSNBC on my electrical tellie in the morning. To say that Joe and Mika run the best of the bleary-eyed wakeups is to damn with faint  praise. And maybe I like having my intelligence insulted.

Such as with the large-print banner on this morning's discussion of congresscritters wandering in to their offices determined to increase their net worth before lunch through bold stock-market investments.

The banner asks, "Do Lawmakers Benefit from Insider Trading?"

Here comes the adult language.

"Does a bear shit in the woods?"

This hasn't been news since at least the Lincoln Administration.

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The solution is a Constitutional amendment requiring Congress to obey the Constitution by not chartering railroads or financing silly solar-power adventures,  etc.

If you snort something back at me about circular reasoning, you are a clear-eyed, intelligent citizen of the Republic, and I love you.

The sheriff pimps the Judge

Over in South Carolina, Sheriff Chuck Wright tells his people -- particularly his women -- "Get  a CCW. Get a gun."

Welcome aboard, Sheriff.

This will produce a zillion internet words, of course, but some folks will have missed his interview by an especially clueless* MSNBC head. The head asked the sheriff, "What kind of gun?"

"A .45 caliber handgun," he replied. " ... it shoots a .45 bullet or a shotgun shell ... you don't have to be accurate, just in the general vicinity."

Have at it, gang. However, we may want to quickly buy some Taurus stock before we start psyching ourselves up for the mother of all  ballistics rants.

At least he's planted the seed and, in fact, a .410 scatter load shares a virtue with the .22 short: it's better than nothing when some perv demands nonconsensual relations.



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*Sample, the teevee head says we're paying for cops so why should we get guns. The sheriff, slowly and carefully, as though to very slow child, says, "We can't be everywhere."

Silence Citizen!

1 -- -- I probably wouldn't  like this woman. For one thing, I'm suspicious of people who write  dramatic "diaries" obviously meant for publication. Nevertheless:

2. -- I would hate existing in a nation where people like Amy do not exist or where, worse,  the thugs of The Power have succeeded  in cowing them into obedient silence and cheerful submission.

3. -- Assuming Amy reported accurately in her personal journal, she was detained, harassed, mistreated, and arrested ("disorderly conduct") for the crime of reciting The Fourth Amendment as the TSA in Albuquerque prepared  to backhand her groin.

Tam and Popehat (H/T to each) write cogent takes on the outrage. But one more angle, if you please:

By the time the following dialogue took place, airport cops had handcuffed the woman (before arresting her and without Mirandizing her) and taken her driving license and other possessions. Officer Friendly and his fellows were just going by the book.

Amy: "I wasn't under arrest. You had no right to take anything from me. What if you(r) book doesn't follow the Constitution, the highest law in the land?"

Cop:  "It's not that big a deal.* It's for everyone's safety. We don't want to take the risk. You don't have to fly you know. You give up your rights when you fly."** 

 A quick review: This woman did not refuse to submit to a privates-probe by  the on-duty federal groper. She did not propose to physically resist any part of intimate search by a stranger. All she did was recite the Constitutional basis for her opinion that -- while she might have to be felt up -- she damned sure didn't have to approve of it.


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* -- If the cop really believed that, we're in even more trouble than we thought because he didn't come up with the Constitutional analysis on his own. He was regurgitating settled policy as handed down by the Inner Party.  When O'Brien is authorized to distinguish between trivial rights and important ones,  the Constitution becomes a quaint relic of the world before Oceania.  


** -- So, as we walk along the street, we are citizens. But a mysterious occurrence takes over when we are aloft, making us, instead, subjects. Not by law, but by decree. See Inner Party, supra.










   

Crime in the Capital? Not a chance.

I lived in Washington-on-Potomac when Mayor Barry was in control, so I am shocked that Vincent Gray, current mayor of our federal city,  is under suspicion of criminal wrongdoing.

After all, the government of the District of Columbia is under the ultimate oversight of the United States Congress which, like the district itself, is heir to a two-century  tradition of truth, justice, and selfless public service.

As to former Mayor Barry, he seems to be doing right well for himself, having been fully  rehabilitated in federal prison. The later accusations of drunk driving, stalking,   tax cheating, official corruption as a city council member, and  a few other peccadilloes are undoubtedly the work racist liars in the Tea Party.

Why we're broke

A couple of Des Moines cops drew a crucial crime-fighting assignment. Armed with tactical video equipment, they deployed to the Ingersoll Theatre to watch the old-timey burlesque show -- like the one your great grandpa snuck into after telling Great Gram he was heading for Oddfellows Hall.

The infiltrating Only Ones  had orders to capture evidence of exposure of a nipple or "anything below." They got it.

As one of the dancers tells the tale, she was doing a classic balloon dance when a Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction victimized her. A bubble accidentally  popped, giving the leering audience a flash of pastie.

The cops left. They "reviewed" the tape for a long time. (Stop smirking). They  returned to write the citations. The dancers will talk to the ACLU. Our courts are bracing for the Trial of the Century.

I don't know about you, but this assault on public titillation certainly fills me with a renewed appreciation for my government's dedication to, at any cost, shielding me from impurity.

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Des Moines city fathers promised that their new robotic speed and stop-light cameras would compensate for their rape of the  14th Amendment  by freeing police for more vital duties.  Voila.
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