Law and Disorder: Absurdly Funny Moments from the Courts

310 Pages·2014·2.09 MB·English

by  Charles M. Sevilla

“Your Honor, I decline to answer on the grounds of self-incarceration.”
One of the Seven [wise men of Greece]
was wont to say: That laws were like cobwebs,
where the small flies are caught and
the great break through.
—Sir Francis Bacon
Contents
Introduction
1 The Defendants
2 The Lawyers
3 The Evidence
4 The Experts
5 The Judges
6 The Jurors
7 Malaprops
8 The Police
9 Sentencing
10 The Witnesses
“Begging Your Honor’s pardon, but isn’t life plus a thousand years a little harsh?”
Introduction
For most of my legal career, I have sought redemption in writing satiric novels
and humor anthologies. Writing has been my therapy, humor my cheery
companion. Have a problem? Laugh at it, laugh with it, and most important,
laugh at yourself. Surely, as Mark Twain said, “Against the assault of laughter
nothing can stand.” I’ve spent a lot of time off my feet.
Most people don’t think of the law as a fertile source of humor. If they are
consumers of what the law offers in the courts, their experiences are either a
painful ordeal or something in which survival is a victory. But even in the courts,
humor pops up unexpectedly. When it does, for many years my friends have
been sending me these memorialized moments in transcript form. I share them
with others hungry for a morsel of levity in magazine columns pompously titled
“Great Moments in Courtroom History.”
These are “Great Moments.” They are “great” only because they are different
from the humdrum of normal courtroom fare; they are “moments” in the sense of
unique instants of time. Put together, they are significant in the sense that the
first voyage of the Titanic was notable to navigation.
•••
As with the last two books, Disorderly Conduct (Norton, 1987, by Uelmen,
Jones, and yours truly) and Disorder in the Court (Norton, 1992, yours truly
again), the reader will find the humor sophomoric, scatological, very profane,
and overtly sexual in content. In other words, just the sort of thing my readers
love. But it’s not my fault. This is the argot of the twenty-first-century American
criminal courts.
Many judges have noted and lamented the decline in language usage in the
criminal justice system. It’s obvious. The highway robber of old accosted his
fellow traveler with the clearly stated demand: “Stand and deliver.” Now, it’s
just a mouthful of profanity peppered with ubiquitous four-letters word
commencing with an “f.” As one justice rued, “Not everyone can be an F. E.
Smith (later Earl of Birkenhead) who, in his speech in 1920 in the House of
Commons on the Matrimonial Causes Act, referred to it [intercourse] as ‘that
bond by which nature in its ingenious telepathy has contrived to secure and
render agreeable the perpetuation of the species.’” People v. Callahan, 168
Cal.App.3d 631, 635 n. 7 (1985). Ah, those were the days.
But such is not today’s reality. Consider this nasty exchange from a
Maryland proceeding:
THE COURT Give me the file back. He might be under contempt of
court. Now, stand up there. Come back to that table there. Step on up
now. What’s wrong with you?
MR. JOHNSON What the fuck you think wrong with me, man?
Goddamn, I’m trying to tell you I ain’t have no mother fucking option
in this shit, man.
THE COURT All right.
MR. JOHNSON What the fuck? You think everybody just want to go sit
in prison for the rest of their life because you ain’t got nothing better to
do than to sit up there and crack jokes. This ain’t no mother fucking
joke, man. This is about my goddamn life.
THE COURT That cost you five months and twenty-nine days in
addition to the three years I’ve just given you. [Contempt number 1]
MR. JOHNSON Fuck this shit, man.
THE COURT All right. That’s five months and twenty-nine more in
addition to the five months and twenty-nine I’ve given you. [number
2]
MR. JOHNSON Fuck you, bitch.
THE COURT That makes ten months plus the ten, twenty-nine days.
That’s twelve months. That’s a year. Call me that again and I’ll give
you another one.
MR. JOHNSON Fuck you, bitch.
THE COURT That’s five months and twenty-nine days. That’s three
years. That’s five months and twenty-nine days. . . . That’s consecutive
to the three years that you’re now doing. Each one of those. Separate
and independent. [number 3]
MR. JOHNSON If I had a gun, your mother fucking head would be
splattered all over the back of the goddamn wall for—
THE COURT And you’d better shoot straight when you try. When you
get out come on. Five months and twenty-nine more for that. . . .
[number 4]
MR. JOHNSON Whatever, man. You’re tired of giving it out? Did you
finish or what?
THE COURT Well, we can see. That’s five months and twenty-nine
more. [number 5]
MR. JOHNSON Kiss my ass again.
THE COURT Five months and twenty-nine more. [number 6]
MR. JOHNSON Kiss my ass again until you’re tired of giving me
another.
THE COURT That’s six of them.
MR. JOHNSON Kiss my ass again.
THE COURT Seven. Five months and twenty-nine days. [number 7]
MR. JOHNSON Fuck you. Kiss my ass again.
THE COURT Five months and twenty-nine days. [number 8]
. . . Consecutive. . . .
MR. JOHNSON So, you finished giving out time?
THE COURT I guess. Until you cuss again.
MR. JOHNSON Suck my dick.
THE COURT Five months and twenty-nine days consecutive. [number
9]. . . .
MR. JOHNSON You finished?
THE COURT I suppose.
MR. JOHNSON Well, what the fuck are you holding me for then?
THE COURT Five months and twenty-nine more days. Consecutive.
[number 10]
MR. JOHNSON Get the fuck off me, man.
THE COURT Call the next one . . . if I’d have had a shotgun I need to
have shot him but I don’t have it today. Call the next case.
That gem comes from Johnson v. State, 642 A.2d 259, 261–262 (Md.App.
1994) and was called to my attention by Brian D. Shefferman of Rockville,
Maryland. I don’t know what is more deplorable, the defendant’s profane
language or the judge’s provocations and piling up nearly six years of time on
Johnson as if he were stacking a pile of pennies. You’ll be happy to know the
Court of Appeal reversed all the contempts.
I must thank all my contributors, many of whose names you will see
frequently associated with the following contributions. If they are from
California, I only cite the city location. All Seventh Circuit quotes are courtesy
of former Federal Defender Richard Parsons, who authored the newsletter
entitled The Back Bencher and contributed many appellate court gems.
I also would acknowledge and extend great thanks to W. W. Norton &
Company and particularly to Amy Cherry and Anna Mageras for bringing this
book to life. Thanks to Joe Vallely, my agent, and my wife, Donna, for their
inestimable contributions. Finally, many thanks to the lawyers and staff at the
California Attorneys for Criminal Justice, and particularly to the folks who put
their magazine, Forum, together. They have been publishing these snipets in my
column, “Great Moments in Courtroom History,” for the last thirty-five years.
Lastly, I heartily thank the happy lawyer courtroom warriors who daily do
battle in the front lines defending their clients’ rights. Carry on!