Post 78

Listen In One More Time:
Pretend Advice for Mr. David Daleiden

I actually started to feel sorry for the guy.

No, not him.

The other one.

Mr. Spy.


I feel sorry for him because, well, maybe he’s not such a mastermind either. Maybe he’s just not very bright, is what I started to think. Maybe he’s getting bad advice. Maybe his “friends” are encouraging him in the wrong direction. And besides, he’s young. 27, was it?

So in my head, I called him on the phone.

You can listen in. (You know how it is, hey – all you really need, sometimes, is to hear one side of the conversation and that gives you a sense. Besides, it suddenly strikes me that this is so very appropriate, because when Daleiden taped, we didn’t hear his side of the conversation – or not, at least, the parts he didn’t want us to hear. So let’s go with that theme.)

It’s about his defence.

I’m going to play pretend, like he did.

I’m going to pretend I’m his lawyer.

Here goes. I’ll skip the introductions. Jump in here:

ME: Yes, I know you’ve already got ‘attorneys.’ (Here in Canada we tend to call them lawyers.)
ME: Yes, I know you’ve got four. (When did this lawyering-by-committee-trend start? With OJ Simpson? And since when can a 27-year-old afford four lawyers? Who exactly is funding this?)
ME: No, I don’t think that’s impressive.
ME: No.
ME: Because I think that’s stupid.
ME: Because some things aren’t better when you have more of them.
ME: Let me put it this way, there’s a reason a man marries only one woman at a time.
ME: You don’t get it?
ME: A man marries one woman at a time because he can barely deal with one, let alone more than one. And vice versa.
ME: What does that have to do with it?
ME: It’s called an analogy.
ME: My point, please don’t interrupt – is that you don’t need or want a lawyer team.
ME: I know you do, but that doesn’t mean it’s good for you.
ME: They’re not bodyguards, you know, to strut around with like you’re a rock star. (If you want bodyguards, hire them. Probably a lower hourly rate.)
ME: It doesn’t mean you’re more important, the more criminal defence lawyers you can afford. In God’s eyes you’re probably a mixed-up boy. And besides, are you putting your faith in God or in your legal team?
ME: Well, for starters, other than looking show-offy, it means your defence is going to be rather screwed up.
ME: That’s nice. But you’re wrong.
ME: How do I know? In the first place, I know that human nature is that it is all too easy for there to be a difference of opinion about how to proceed. Four lawyers means four opinions. And I’ve read that your “team” is rejecting any attempt from the prosecutors to strike any kind of deal.
ME: Yeah, it’s stupid advice.
ME: Yes, I do know better.
ME: Oh, and what makes you so sure they’ll win?
ME: Who told you that?
ME: And is he able to predict the future?
ME: Well then?
ME: And what law school did he go to?
ME: Look, trials are extremely unpredictable.
ME: It won’t go to trial?
ME: And why not?
ME: Withdraw the charges?
ME: Who told you they were going to withdraw the charges?
ME: And who is he?
ME: The lawyers too?
ME: Really.
ME: You must be kidding.
ME: Sure, but just because they can drop the charges, that doesn’t mean they will.
ME: What petition?
ME: Ah yes, the one with 106,000 signatures
ME: Alright, ‘so far’
ME: Well, Mr. Daleiden, guess what?
ME: Even if you collected 4,000,000,000 signatures, guess how much that matters inside the courtroom, to the judge.
ME: Are you there?
ME: Well then, guess how much.
ME: No, as a matter of fact, it doesn’t.
ME: It doesn’t count for anything.
ME: Nope.
ME: Yes, seriously.
ME: Did anyone tell you differently?
ME: Well then.
ME: No, it doesn’t matter.
ME: Good question. I don’t know what the point would be either. You could line your jail cell walls with it. Wallpaper, maybe. Reading material, maybe. A list of everybody who is running around scot-free outside the jail, not really thinking much about you pretty much ever, but instead scrolling through other websites while you wear something other than a blue shirt with black tie.
ME: So let me ask you something.
ME: How old is your wife?
ME: Do you have any children?
ME: Are you planning to have and raise a large family? Some large pro-family, pro-life family?
ME: How are you going to do that while you’re in jail?
ME: And you know that how?
ME: What I mean is, how do you know that you won’t be convicted for these crimes?
ME: And how do they know?
ME: You must be kidding.
ME: Well, the truth is, you could be convicted.
ME: Yes, you could.
ME: Are you there?
ME: Well, they’re wrong.
ME: You could be convicted.
ME: I don’t know.
ME: That would be a decision on the part of the judge.
ME: I don’t know, but I read that in your country, you could be jailed for twenty years for what you did.
ME: And why not?
ME: The judge doesn’t care what the cause was.
ME: Well that may be true, but he doesn’t need to care.
ME: And how will you pay for that?
ME: And how do you know you’d win the appeal?
ME: Oh, is that right?
ME: And how would he know?
ME: Ah, well, nobody can guarantee that. Did he guarantee that?
ME: How about you ask them, next time you see your team? Use those words. Ask your “team” for a guarantee. Ask them if they will do your jail time for you if you lose. See how they squirm.
ME: Well, I’d suggest you make a deal, now, while you still can.
ME: Yes, there is an alternative.
ME: Simple. You take the stand, and tell them that when you told all those people that you wanted to buy baby parts, you were being a liar.
ME: And why not?
ME: Yes you did.
ME: Undercover shmunder-cover.
ME: And by what authority did you act in this capacity?
ME: What I mean is, are you a member of some police force that wrongly uses the power, given to it (wrongly) by the state, to mislead people, under the excuse that it’s a legitimate part of police work?
ME: I know you’re not.
ME: Yes, that’s what I’m saying.
ME: Well, it’s the story you fabricated.
ME: Then you should have thought of that before.
ME: I don’t care why you said it, and neither will the judge.
ME: No, that doesn’t matter.
ME: Maybe it should, but it doesn’t.
ME: Fine, if you insist.
ME: Apology??
ME: You must be kidding.
ME: You’re waiting for the prosecution to apologize TO YOU?
ME: Who gave you that idea, that notion, that advice?
ME: Seriously.
ME: Well, they’re wrong.
ME: No, I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.
ME: Yes that’s true, and I’m glad.
ME: Because I wouldn’t want to be facing the prospect of jail time if I were 27 and wanted to raise a big family.
ME: Alright, as you wish.
ME: Goodbye.