Some Questions about the Justice System

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If someone kills my son by running them over and it would have been morally and legally justified to have shot them before they ran over my son then why can't I simply walk up to them anytime after they killed my son and shoot him in the head? Why can I shoot someone who breaks into my house tonight but I can't go to their house and kill them tomorrow? 

What changes between the initial interaction; for example, someone is in a shootout with the police and therefore the police officers are justified in killing the attacker and catching them later in a hotel where the person is taken into custody? Why not shoot them right there? 

Is it due to an uncertainty rule? Because at the moment you are certain who to fire at but in the future, you may not need to fire at them. The police, under the guidance of the rule of law, are instructed to inflict the minimum necessary force to enact peace. Also, they have an incentive to de-escalate any interaction. Any time someone is enforcing rules on another person there is a potential for reactive violence. By escalating an interaction an officer increases the likelihood that they will become injured or killed. 

Or is it due to a hierarchical rule? As in, the lower level enforcers are only allowed so much power. Whereas the real power to sentence is in the judge's hands. The elite group of, hopefully, intelligent people who have the power to kill. (If the state has a death sentence.)

I believe that in the past the rule of law was much less adhered to, not that it is overly adhered to today. Also, enforcers of the rules would have more leeway and flexibility to enforce and enact justice as they saw fit. They might just hang someone on the spot. Kill them without any words spoken. So long as the sentence was carried out it didn't matter so much how. 

Is it a way to appease the masses? By creating a large hierarchical structure that dictates procedures and rules the burden of power is diminished. Having judges, juries, and law enforcement agencies all involved with enacting justice any mistakes can be recognized and corrected as opposed to a dictatorship, where one person is in charge of all acts of justice and therefore is either allowed to continue their reign or they are ousted, one way or another.

If people are allowed to enact justice on their own like vigilantes and a mistake is made the person may never be found, which satisfies no one, or, even if they are caught, we may never know the truth as the other person is dead and can not defend themselves.

Back to uncertainty, if someone watches someone murdered there is a good chance that within a short period of time they might be able to recognize them as the attacker but the lesson from so many inaccurate eyewitness testimonies is that one can't always trust their own recollections. So the uncertainty principle should be accounted for in the personal case as well. 

So how can we determine certainty? What if you are certain that you know the killer's face so you find them and kill them just to find out that the person you killed is the twin of the actual killer. This is a rare case and one would have to be convinced that the killer had a twin and that is plausible that you killed the wrong one. In a normal case, we have evidence, argumentation, and consensus to take on the task of providing relative certainty.  

DNA and other forensic sciences have made a great deal of progress in the pursuit of certainty scientists are not perfect. Cameras and other recording devices have done some work here as well even though they can be doctored. Lawyers attempt to plead the case of each party and we trust reason through argumentation to win the day. We trust that judges know the law and will consider the case objectively, without prior judgments or prejudices. (Not perfect either.)

Are juries a good idea? If it is a truly random set of people who end up on a jury then the odds of getting someone with a below average IQ is very high. The odds that the jurors will not have some prejudice against the defendant or prosecutor is slim to none. Most people have a rudimentary understanding of the law at best. Many people have a hard time paying attention. People are vindictive, jealous, overly agreeable, easily confused and distracted by sex. But when a jury convicts someone we can blame them and since they all agreed there is a consensus. They represent the public and act as a kind of intellectual microcosm of the society's "will".

One solution is to mix the jury concept with the judge concept and create a random selection of three judges to oversee all cases above a certain level. Less significant cases would be overseen by a single judge where appeals would allow for second opinions and oversight. In more significant cases, especially violent ones, the three-judge panel would decide the case and appeals would be taken straight to the federal level where three judges would oversee the appeal. For this system to work there would have to be either more judges, less litigation, or a combination of both. 

*

The system can't be perfect but how do we minimize its flaws?

How many people are we willing to wrongfully punish and how many people will we let go who should be punished? How many people are rightfully accused and rightfully punished? How many are rightfully accused but wrongfully punished? The justice system is a reflection of society's attempts to answer these questions. Throw in some corruption, ignorance, and prejudice and you have the idiosyncratic character of a society's justice system. 

The American system seems to have become bloated and mismanaged and has created corruption of certain aspects of the justice system. Namely, too many laws creating too much wasted litigation and punishment. Crimes are invented and rarely discarded but when a law is discarded the real victims are those who were rightfully imprisoned at the time but who are now suffering the consequences of the punishment for a crime that is no longer deemed wrong.

30 Days of Fiction: 6

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A black fedora skidded along the concrete street heading the opposite direction of it's owner, who was now stoically walking against the roaring wind heading toward a wooden door attached to a large home in an affluent suburban neighborhood. The lawn was immaculately manicured, the window shades were shut and the wind chimes were clanging uncontrollably. Her long black hair matched the long black trench coat in it's desire to join the hat but their owner held them in place as best she could. She knocked on the door and after a few minutes was greeted by a tall blond woman in her early twenties. She had french tips, perfect makeup, a pearl necklace adorned her clavicle and her long black dress had a deep V cut revealing much.

"Hello," the blond woman said in an airy, uninterested tone. "Who are you?"

"I'm detective Kelly Hirsch," the woman with black hair said with a smile. "I assume you're Karen Stuttles," Kelly said to the uninterested Mrs. Stuttles. 

"Yes," the modelesque blond responded looking back into the home as if Kelly wasn't there. 

"Good, I need to ask you a few questions. Can I come inside?" Kelly asked indicating the wind as a good reason to comply. 

"Sure, whatever," Karen said standing aside. "I'm not doing anything anyway." 

"You're dressed very well for someone not doing anything," Karen said while sitting down on the plush leather couch that sat in the middle of the expansive living room.

"I always look like this," Karen retorted with a wry smile. Kelly noted a bit of disdain in her voice. "What is this all about?"

"I'm investigating the disappearance of Jeremiah Hoffman," Kelly said looking for any recognition on the young woman's face. She didn't find any.

"Oh," Karen said with feigned interest.

"Yes. I understand you were seeing each other." Kelly asked as Karen started pacing around the room.

"Oh. Um. Yes. But how do you know?" Karen said much more interested now than when the detective had first arrived.

"We found your number on his phone under the name Baby K," so I assumed you were lovers. "Don't worry, I'm not here to upset your marriage. I don't really care about that. I just want to know when you saw Jeremiah last."

"Oh. Well thank you for that. We stopped seeing each other about a week ago," Karen said sitting down on the couch now facing Kelly. "He just stopped calling and I didn't think much of it. It wasn't serious so I just let it go."

"Alright. Well, if you hear from him or think of anything that will help us find out what happened please give me a call," said as she stood up and handed Karen a card.

"That's it," Karen asked surprised the conversation was over.

"Yup," Kelly responded and then walked to door.

"Alright, well I hope everything is OK with Jeremiah and thanks for being discreet," Karen said as she walked Kelly to the door. Kelly walked out into the windy world, the door slamming behind her.

Karen watched out the window as Kelly drove by and waited a few minutes before leaving, not knowing that Kelly had parked down the road and was watching as Karen drove away in her "not doing anything" clothes. Kelly followed the blue Jetta a few miles until it stopped at a run down apartment complex. Kelly noted an old, tan VW Bug parked out front and assumed it was a tenant's. She watched as Karen ran up the stairs and at the door she was greeted by a young man who picked her up and took her into the apartment. 

Kelly waited another twenty minutes until the two young lovers exited the apartment and headed down the stairs. He now matched her, in a sharp black suit and shining leather shoes. Following Karen's Jetta again, Kelly found that their end goal was the newly opened night club 'Hell Hole'. As Kelly watched the two enter the club and was about the leave she noticed the same tan VW bug parked across from her. As she drove by she looked inside to see an older man, dressed better than the car deserved, glaring into the club. She took note of the license plate. 

The next morning Kelly walked into the precinct with a coffee in her hand. 

"Where's​ your hat," Johnny asked from behind the front desk. 

"Fucking wind took it," Kelly answered smiling. She walked past the desk and tapped Johnny on the shoulder as she walked by. 

At her desk she began to look through files, discarding papers this way and that until she stopped on a photo. The photo was taken from Facebook and featured Karen and her gray haired new husband, Gary Stuttle. The man's face looked familiar and after a minute Kelly realized it was the man from the VW Bug. She frantically looked for her notes and found the license plate number she had scribbled down. She tracked the registration to the name Garfield Starling but no one by that name existed in any other database. Kelly grabbed her coat and made her way to the door. She had some questions to ask Gary Stuttles. 

Gary worked in the top floor of the tallest building in town, which wasn't saying much at ten floors high, but obviously he was a somebody. Kelly exited the elevator and asked the receptionist if she could speak to Gary but he was in a meeting she would have to wait. After thirty minutes Gary entered from a nearby glass door along with another man. One in Nazy blue and the other in all white. 

Kelly stood. 

"You must be Kelly," the man in the white suit said shaking Kelly's hand. 

"Yes. I was hoping to ask you about a missing VW Bug," she said looking into the man's eyes. 

"Hm. That's​ a weird question," he said with one eyebrow raised. 

"I can see why you would think that but the registration is under the name Garfield Starling. Do you know anyone by that name," she asked looking down at the note with the license plate number on it. 

He was staring down at the note too when he said, "Nope. Doesn't sound familiar. Why?"

"Well, I ask because while that name doesn't exist in any database the money used to buy the car was traced back to a corporate credit card that your company owns," Kelly said looking up to find Gary pacing around the room.

"Yeah? I don't know. I'll have to look into it," Gary said and then he stopped and looked at Kelly concerned. "You said this was about a missing car? Why would you be investigating that?"

"Actually, I think it's important for a missing person's case I'm working," she responded. Kelly put her items against her side and reached out to shake Gary's hand. He took her hand and stared into her eyes looking for recognition. 

"Thanks for talking with me. I'll let you know what I find about that Bug." Gary said squeezing Kelly's hand until it started to turn white. 

"Your hurting my hand Mr. Stuttles," Kelly remarked. 

"Oh shit. Sorry about that," Gary said letting go and shaking his head as if being lifted from a haze. 

Kelly left the building and waited in her car looking through files, making calls and drinking coffee. An hour later she watched as Gary left the building, jumped into a yellow Chevy Charger and drove off. She followed him through the city, over the bridge and down an historic highway road winding through tall green trees.  Miles later he finally stopped at a small farm house where a garage door opened before him. Driving past, Kelly saw the Charger entering the garage and just as the door was sliding closed she saw a glimpse of a tan VW Bug. 

She drove up a ways, turned around and slowly crept back toward the farm house. As the house came into view she saw the tail end of the tan VW Bug heading back toward the city and she had to choose quickly: investigate the house or follow the man. She chose to follow the man and called in to have the house investigated, although, with no warrant it might not provide any additional evidence. She followed Gary much more cautiously as to not be found out but she was practiced at such things so he never noticed as she trailed behind him.

Kelly was less than surprised, driving through recognizable streets, to find that she was back at the apartment where she had seen Karen meet her sexual confidant. She stopped on the curb a good distance away and watched as Gary, now dressed in shabby jeans and a black coat, strolled up the stairs and knocked on the door. When the door opened he disappeared inside and the door slammed. 

A few moments later Gary was holding the now unconscious young man over his shoulder and back down the stairs. 

"We've got a possible 209 in progress," Kelly called over the radio. "Pursuing at distance. I think I know where they are heading." 

She followed long enough to confirm her suspicion and dialed her cell phone. 

"Are you guys still at the farm house I called in earlier," Kelly asked. 

"Yeah, didn't see much so we're going to leave," the voice of a patrol officer responded from the other side. 

"No, I need you to drive up a distance, park and get ready to meet me at the house. I'm following the suspect there and a potential victim. I'll let you know when I'm close," Kelly spoke fast and clearly. She dropped the phone on the seat next to her and continued her pursuit making sure not to let her adrenaline affect the heaviness of her foot. 

Gary arrived at the garage and disappeared behind it's door as Kelly parked in the driveway, partially blocking any retreat by way of car. She was greeted quickly by two uniformed officers. One officer had a shotgun while the detective and the other officer had only pistols. 

"Take the back," Kelly said gesturing to the officer with the shotgun who quickly started moving around back.  Kelly and the other officer started for the door. Trying the handle Kelly found it locked so she used the handle of the pistol to break the small window above the handle, reached in, between the glass shards, and unlocked the door. She opened it quickly and they both entered the dark room pointing their weapons at the hallway, kitchen and back again looking for danger. 

Kelly gestured for the officer to follow her and they both made their way down the dark, dusty hallway until they reached a hanging string attached to an attic door. Looking at the officer knowingly she pulled the string down swiftly stepping aside as it made a loud crash toward the floor. Two gun shots rang out and two holes erupted at Kelly's feet. She shot back knowing it would be no use but then heard a struggle, then glass breaking and finally a blast from the shotgun out back. 

"Stay here and don't get shot," Kelly remarked to the officer, who looked stunned, before running out the back door. She opened the door to find Gary laid out in the tall grass bleeding from the chest. The officer was breathing heavily, calling in the incident on his lapel radio. Kelly and the officer exchanged worried glances and then Kelly turned around and went back through the door to meet the officer at the bottom of the attic stairs.

"What the fuck," the officer said looking at Kelly and then back up at the hole in the ceiling.

"The suspect jumped out the window up there, pulled on Justin and Justin shot him in the chest," she responded. "Let's go see what horror lies up there," she said pointing upward with her pistol.

The officer led the way and as they made their way up the stairs the smell of putrefying flesh made them cringe. Looking around the room they both saw the bodies. One tied up to the rafters hanging by the arms, with flesh from the neck to the chest flayed open and the head slumped down. Another body lay in pieces in two plastic bins, one bin with the body and legs, the other containing the head and arms. Kelly assumed this was the missing Jeremiah Hoffman but there was no way to know just from the carnage. Just as she began to walk forward the man hanging by his arms, skin swaying in the breeze, spat blood onto the floor next to her shoes, lifted his head and screamed.


The next day Kelly got out of her car and headed up the road toward the Stuttle's home. This time she was accompanied by the two officers that had helped her catch the man who had let his jealousy and rage destroy the lives of at least two men. Just before she stepped onto the curb a black fedora came tumbling by and stopped just a few feet away. She walked over, picked up the hat and slowly placed it on her head.

The Getting Pulled Over with Shrooms Story

The sirens blared as I pulled into the parking lot of Mingus Park. I tried to remain calm as the four teenagers riding with me scrambled to make themselves ready for the interrogation. As the sun glared across my windshield and I stopped the car we waited for the officer to walk up.

Earlier that day:

"What do liberty caps look like?" I asked John as we stepped out into the cow pasture miles out of city limits. It was a friend of a friend's property and we were looking for magic mushrooms. John proceeded to explain that liberty caps were small, light brown mushrooms that grow in and around cow dung. We walked around a bit and he pointed one out. It was among a patch of 20 or so and as soon as I knew what I was looking for they were everywhere.

Four of us were walked around the field and in just a couple hours each of our small bags were filled to the brim. My friend, John, was the mastermind of this event and told us that the tea he would make would be plenty for everyone so we compiled them all into two large zip lock bags. I was the driver for the excursion and it seemed reasonable that I set them under my seat before we headed back into town.

"Everyone shut up and be cool," I said to my would be fellow felons as the police officer walked up to my door.

"Do you know why I pulled you over?" He asked looking around at the young people filling my car.

"No," I said as I handed him my ID

"You failed to use your blinker when you pulled in here," he explained.

"Oh," I said, mildly shocked at the minor indiscretion I was pulled over for.

"Hey, Trevor. You talk to your parole officer lately," the officer said to one of the boys in the backseat. Someone I didn't know very well, let alone know that they were on parole.

"Yes. Talked to him yesterday," Trevor answered respectfully. 

"OK," the officer said as he turned his attention back to me. "I'm gunna let you off with a warning but you make sure to be careful next time."

"Absolutely," I responded as I took my ID back.

The officer walked back to his car and drove off as we all collectively let out a sigh of relief. This wasn't the first time I had been pulled over for a minor traffic violation but it was the first time I had two pounds of magic mushrooms under my seat. If the officer had found them I would have been royally fucked but instead I didn't even get a ticket.

Later that night, while a group of degenerate teenagers hung out by the tracks in Lakeside, mushroom tea was being prepared. As the night went on I watched as the people around me took little trips to an unknown place without me. I wasn't ready to take the plunge into psychedelics that night but soon I would.