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visual delights, freedom rights

2004-07-06 - eleven eleven p.m.

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Bart Simpson drowning

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a beautiful Hopi Indian blanket

made by a 93 year old woman, who

will pass it on to her little nina before

she passes on herself. In any case, at some point it will end up behind the glass at a California desert museum .

A possibility that OCD still exists in me even though qualified therapist said it was gone, years ago :---> I almost hurt myself trying to swipe my change out of the drink machine today, faster than the water bottle could fall.

I got a call from a girl yesterday who let me know that my friend Marty back home has a set date (so far) for his hearing on the 19th. So far he's already served 16 years for a crime many feel he didn't commit, including myself. His support is growing daily at this point, and he is fortunate to have gotten the hearing, which is likely his last chance. I spoke to one of his lawyers today and told him sure I'd be glad to write a letter to the DA on his behalf. To be quite honest, I wasn't sure of the true definition of a DA until today. I thought there was a prosecution (DA) and then the defense attorney, (stands for D.A. Naturally.)

It turns out the DA for this case lives across the street from my friend Big Jim. Jim said he's a really nice guy, and he's only attempted to put people away that he thought were completely guilty, like those four bastard kids that killed that little boy years ago by giving him rocks to eat. Spota sent them away double time. So I was wondering why he would screw Marty over if there's no substantial evidence pointing to him? And more than enough to free him. He said that's why the letters help, and that look, this guy Spota has a conscience so other people shed light on the defendant's character through their letters, etc. It emphasizes their point.

I told Jim I'll send the letter to his place and he can walk it across the street to the guy.

"No ho ho ho! Not me, I aint walking that over to him, I'm sure he wouldn't like me, I'm a criminal."

"Well I'll just tell him in the letter that I know you're guilty of everything you've ever done, but Marty isn't. That should emphasize my point."

"I'm not a criminal anymore."

"Spota might disagree."

Since Jim often times sees dead people, I was sure he'd understand where I was coming from when I said that Marty has had possibly the worst 16 years of his life, but that he might one day decide that those 16 years have been priceless in the knowledge that he's gained spending countless hours in the Prison library reading law and law and more law. He hasn't complained once, but has only put selfless energy into helping other guys who were wrongfully convicted, and eventually a few of them were released. Part of all that work may have made him into a better man? And probably a lawyer, some day, as well.

"Yeah I could see your point."

A few months ago, Jim was debating himself, (thinking he was debating with me) on the phone over whether Marty was guilty or not. Today, he actually admitted he now felt the guy was innocent, after listening to me go on about it with a strong enough conviction. Next stop Spota.

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