![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Dec. 14th, 2008 07:34 pm
Karmic credit expired
It's official: The County of Cook demands my presence at court tomorrow to serve as a standby juror. In principle, I don't have a problem with this. Ten years ago or so, when I was last called up, it resulted in a half day of reading fiction and writing bad love poetry at the Daley Center before being released. Since then, I've dodged the bullet twice--once earlier this year--so it's not surprising the odds finally turned against me.
But this time, we're not talking the Federal courts--nor the courts in Skokie, a mere couple miles from my home. Rather than a quick jaunt, I'll be facing an interminable ride to the end of the Forest Park line, thence to a meandering Pace bus. You literally have to go over the river and through the woods from the train station to get there--though, of course, it's not grandmother's house waiting for you at the end, but a huge depressing room with bad fluorescent lighting and the joy of company with your fellow citizens.
If you've got a car, it's supposedly quite convenient to the Eisenhower (inasmuch as anything which requires you to take a car onto the Eisenhower can ever be characterised as "convenient"). But it's like they deliberately placed the Maywood Court to be difficult to get to with public transit. And here's the kicker: It's DUI court.
I've never been so tempted to inscribe a swastika on my forehead and rant about how Barak Ossama will take away all our guns and give them to illegal immigrants. But in the end, I may not even need to: I've got a bone to pick with the DUI enforcement in this town that you'd need a maul to split. A good friend lost his license earlier this year after a DUI case that was so mishandled I can't even talk about it without getting riled up. In the end, they threw the book at him for no good reason that I can fathom. Every day, I'm dodging licensed maniacs who shouldn't be allowed on a Segway, much less behind the wheel of an automobile, and here's someone who's had a spotless record for over thirty years forced to take weekly classes in order to regain his driving privileges; partly as a consequence, he's just recently lost his job and he's going to have a damned hard time finding another one.
So screw you, Cook County. If you want a juror who'll reflexively assume that all the cops presenting testimony are lying to protect their convictions, that the defendants in court are simply too hapless to know who to bribe, that the judge is a near-incompetent who owes their appointment to political connexions--well, then, congratulations, you've got one. Sure I want criminals off the streets; but I'd prefer them out of office first.
But this time, we're not talking the Federal courts--nor the courts in Skokie, a mere couple miles from my home. Rather than a quick jaunt, I'll be facing an interminable ride to the end of the Forest Park line, thence to a meandering Pace bus. You literally have to go over the river and through the woods from the train station to get there--though, of course, it's not grandmother's house waiting for you at the end, but a huge depressing room with bad fluorescent lighting and the joy of company with your fellow citizens.
If you've got a car, it's supposedly quite convenient to the Eisenhower (inasmuch as anything which requires you to take a car onto the Eisenhower can ever be characterised as "convenient"). But it's like they deliberately placed the Maywood Court to be difficult to get to with public transit. And here's the kicker: It's DUI court.
I've never been so tempted to inscribe a swastika on my forehead and rant about how Barak Ossama will take away all our guns and give them to illegal immigrants. But in the end, I may not even need to: I've got a bone to pick with the DUI enforcement in this town that you'd need a maul to split. A good friend lost his license earlier this year after a DUI case that was so mishandled I can't even talk about it without getting riled up. In the end, they threw the book at him for no good reason that I can fathom. Every day, I'm dodging licensed maniacs who shouldn't be allowed on a Segway, much less behind the wheel of an automobile, and here's someone who's had a spotless record for over thirty years forced to take weekly classes in order to regain his driving privileges; partly as a consequence, he's just recently lost his job and he's going to have a damned hard time finding another one.
So screw you, Cook County. If you want a juror who'll reflexively assume that all the cops presenting testimony are lying to protect their convictions, that the defendants in court are simply too hapless to know who to bribe, that the judge is a near-incompetent who owes their appointment to political connexions--well, then, congratulations, you've got one. Sure I want criminals off the streets; but I'd prefer them out of office first.
Tags: