An Unbiased Look at Media Slants

With the Trayvon Martin/George Zimmerman case continuing to dominate the headlines at times, I’ve noticed that opinions run strong in both camps; those who support Trayvon’s family and those who support the defendant, charged with second-degree murder. This is not an ordinary murder case, either. This one has blood boiling — with gun rights and racism front and center in media outlets around the country and on blogs worldwide.

I originally wrote this article in college, back in the early 70s, with minor tweaking throughout the years. It still applies today…

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 Every day in the news media we are bombarded by reports that lean one way or another. Pro-this, anti-that, so to speak. Very rarely do we read, see or hear any type of news that isn’t slanted. Even your relatives, friends and co-workers have said the coverage of a particular news item was so biased for or against a particular issue, they felt compelled to tell you about it. You may have sat there and thought, “Hey, I saw the same thing, on the same station, and I didn’t feel it was as bad as what they just told me.” 

Of course, each one of us has an opinion on just about everything, and sometimes we run into people who are just so animated over how the news is reported, they seem to lose track of exactly what they heard, saw or read, and, by inflection, they inject their own personal views that create a slant on top of the slanted news. Those who do the reporting tend to be pariahs in the minds of these viewers and they misconstrue what was actually said in the first place. A lot of it has to do with wishful thinking. As is the case now with the late Trayvon Martin, people either support his family’s cause for justice or they despise it with a vengeance, so out of their mouths come some pretty nasty words. Of course, kinder and gentler words come out of some of the boy’s supporters, like being racist if you disagree with them.

A lot of times, someone believes deeply in a cause. Save the Whales! Causes can be twisted into political agendas because conservatives interpret conservation and animal rights organizations and issues as being liberal, for instance. It works both ways, meaning it can be quite convoluted. By that, I mean too many issues can be distorted and twisted into one’s own way of thinking, when, in reality, that should not be the case at all. For instance, Teddy Roosevelt was a Republican president and he is regarded as the founder of environmental conservation in America; a true protector of flora, fauna, and land. Was he a liberal tree hugger? Good question, but for some odd reason, we seem to get confused and downright mean over issues that may or may not impact us, depending on points of view. Just yell GLOBAL WARMING! in a room full of Democrats. Do the same in a room filled with Republicans. You’ll never hear so much passion, along with a heavy dose of bias and self-serving interpretations of science.

Slants take on many forms, not always of a political nature. They can delve into the philosophical or religious views of the presenter, too. They could be based on one’s own experiences. How many movie and restaurant critics have written bad reviews? Clearly, there’s nothing political about them. Maybe you saw that movie and ate at that restaurant and you liked both. Who is right here? You or the critic? Below are three different takes on the same fictitious event. One is a straightforward report and the other two are slants. Each slant will infer something different. Please read between the lines.

(1) A two vehicle accident occurred on Wednesday, at the intersection of Main Street and Vine Avenue, in downtown Podunk around 11 PM. One person did not survive. Dennis Walker, 15, of Ruralville was pronounced dead at the scene. His father Michael Walker, also of Ruralville, was transported to Podunk Medical Center, where he was treated and released. The driver of the other vehicle, Scott Wilson, 22, of Podunk, and his passengers, suffered minor injuries and were treated at the scene. Police said the investigation into the cause of the accident is continuing.

(2) A 15 year old boy died in a two car accident on Wednesday here in Podunk. The accident occurred at the intersection of Main Street and Vine Avenue. Dennis Walker, of Ruralville, was pronounced dead at the scene. His father, Michael Walker, also of Ruralville, was flown by helicopter to the trauma center at Podunk Medical Center. The driver of the other vehicle, Scott Wilson, 22, of Podunk, and his passengers, suffered minor injuries and were treated at the scene. Mr. Walker had just pulled out of the parking lot of the First Baptist Church of Podunk, where he had picked his son up from a Boy Scout meeting. An officer at the scene was quoted as saying, “I can’t say for sure what happened, but empty beer cans and bottles were found in the other vehicle.”

A witness said that the other car had just sped out of Frank’s Tavern, less than two blocks away, and was exceeding the posted speed limit of 35MPH. Blood alcohol levels of the driver have not been released. He was taken into custody and an official report will not be disclosed until the investigation is completed.

(3) An accident which caused the death of one person occurred at the intersection of Main Street and Vine Avenue in Podunk. Dennis Walker, 15, of Ruralville, died at the scene. His father, Michael Walker, also of Ruralville, was transported to Podunk Medical Center. The driver of the other vehicle, Scott Wilson, 22, of Podunk, and his passengers, were treated for minor injuries. There have been many accidents at this intersection over the past 10 years, according to state statistics. A witness at the scene said, “This is ridiculous. We’ve protested to state, county and city officials about this problem for years. We’ve signed petitions. We need a traffic light here now! No one heeds the 4 way stop signs. At least two others have died in the past three years.” An investigation is pending and weather did not seem to be a factor.

Do you see how easy it is to write a slant? You can slant a story any way you want to suit your own opinion and to get your message across. We see, read and hear it every day on the news. It’s not just news outlets, either. Today, the Internet is a bastion of unlimited free speech and there are millions of bloggers around the world who exercise that right — except for China, of course — but it certainly doesn’t mean it’s all straightforward and true. It’s not just bloggers. There are unlimited Web sites dying to sink their fangs into our brains. It’s not just Web sites, either. Governments love to indoctrinate their citizenry. Of course, I could go on and on and on, but I won’t.

You, the reader, watcher and listener, have to distinguish between what is real and what is a twist and even if you agree, it still doesn’t make it true. Or right. Remember that.

Of course, that’s my unbiased opinion.

Whiskey River and the 3 Marlboro Omelet

This is a piece I wrote almost seven years ago, back in February, 2006, although I did edit it a little. My writing style was a bit rougher around the edges, but my message is as clear today as it was then. Times may change, but are they always for the better, as we move more into a world of political correctness?

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When I was doing design work for a local printer, we had a film stripper who set up our work to make plates for the presses. He was a really good guy and we got along quite well. I was from New Jersey and he was a Florida native. A lot of people from here have a fair amount of resentment towards people from other parts of the country, especially northerners. If you were from Alabamee or Mississippa, you were OK. The northeast? Eh. Not so much.

Ron and I used to tease each other about northern and southern differences - the Civil War, the South Rising Again! That sort of thing, but it was all done in a good-natured, friendly manner with no implied intent. Whenever he tried to goad me with some Yankee insult, I had a standard reply; one he could not defend, “Well, at least I didn’t have a hangin’ tree in my back yard.”

Ron lived in Apopka, which is a relatively rural town northwest of Orlando. Plenty of the deep south has areas of racial hatred, including parts of Apopka. I’m not trying to single out any community. They’re everywhere, and most of the town is not like that, but there’s a long history steeped in racial bias and, yes, hangin’ trees that should have been chopped down a long time ago. Ain’t been no hangins’ around these here parts in a long time, yet there still exists a small faction of folks who believe the old rules of the deeply segregated south should never and shall never change.

When I moved here in 1981, I found a place in Winter Park called Harrigan’s. My sister used to work there. It’s been gone a long time now, but one of the bartenders ended up buying an established business in downtown Orlando on the corner of Orange Avenue and Pine Street called Tanqueray’s. It used to be part of a bank and housed the vault. You walk down a flight of stairs from street level, step inside, and immediately feel the warmth of the friendly crowd.

Many of the regulars from those days were professionals who worked downtown and stopped in for a drink or two to unwind and socialize. It was known as a hangout for attorneys and it always seemed to be a well mannered, intellectual group. That’s where I met John Morgan, but he has nothing to do with this story. I seldom go downtown anymore, but if I do, I try to stop by, since I’ve known Dan a long time and he always has a few good jokes to tell, plus he’s an all-around great guy.

One time, I dropped by for happy hour. I had to go into the city for some reason and, I figured, why not go see Dan. I took a seat at the bar, near the front door, and we exchanged some friendly banter. The place was quite busy, so we didn’t have much time to talk. Moments after I arrived, some guy was standing to my immediate left. Talk about rough around the edges, he didn’t quite fit in with the rest of that crowd. He ordered a draft beer and said to me, “Yup, I was at Whiskey River at 7 o’clock this morning.”

Whiskey River is a liquor store on S. Orange Blossom trail. It’s certainly not in one of the nicest parts of the city. There are a few scattered around and they have a reputation for catering to hardcore drinkers - the labor pool and unemployment collecting types who live off their pay buying cheap booze and cigarettes. Such was this particular fellow. I have no idea why he chose me out of the crowd to enlighten, but there we were…

“Whiskey River? At 7 AM? So, tell me, what did you have for breakfast?” I asked.

“I had me a 3 Marlboro omelet,” he responded in his gruff, seasoned and rather pickled sounding voice.

“Hmm. Sounds delicious.”

“Yup. It was.” Suddenly, out of the blue, he blurted, “I’m a card carrying member of the KKK.”

“No. No way.”

“Yup.”

I had never met anyone with any sort of affiliation to a white supremacy organization. You know, you always hear stories, but have you ever met anyone like that for real? “OK. Let me see your membership card.”

“Ain’t got one. Don’t need one.”

He didn’t come across as some sort of nasty fellow. He didn’t seem to have gone in there to start trouble. I think he just wanted someone from the “big city” to talk to. Maybe, I looked slick enough. I seem to collect those types, anyway, but I don’t mind. I guess I have a friendly demeanor that people pick up on.

After telling me he lived in the outskirts of Apopka, I thought to myself, why not give the guy a chance to speak his mind. I would try to rationalize everything he says and come back with an appropriate response. I asked him how he could feel this way and have so much hatred inside?

“They’re animals. Damn n*ggers are monkeys.” I think he really wanted to test me, yet I sensed sincerity in his statement and a certain curiosity on his own part, like he was questioning his own tenets; the ones he was most likely raised on.

“Animals? What if you had sex with a monkey, could you get her pregnant?”

“Nah, of course not. That’s stupid.”

“What if you had sex with a black woman, could you get her pregnant?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Well, what you are accepting is that if black people are animals and you could get that type of animal pregnant, then you are a monkey, too. You are an animal. We’re ALL animals.” He had no smart answer.

With every racist claim he made, I had a response. At one point, I asked him, “What if you were in a horrible accident and needed a blood transfusion and found out later you now have the blood of a black man inside. A BLACK MAN. A NEGRO. AN AFRICAN-AMERICAN. What would you do? Would you try to return it? Would you tell your card carrying KKK members that you are now tainted with the blood of an animal? Would they hang you from the highest tree?”

No responses to my queries made much sense. He didn’t necessarily agree with me, but I could tell he was grasping, if not absorbing, everything we were discussing. He really was trying to understand the other side. I brought up the “be they yellow, black or white, they are precious in his sight” song from Sunday School days of my youth. He knew the song, but many southern racists are born into religious families that adhere to odd and distorted interpretations of the Bible, as if Jesus was lily-white and black folk dangled from olive trees.

I asked him about black heroes who had saved plenty of white hide during the war, World War II in this case. A lot of us wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for good ol’ blackie.

The conversation had taken on a kind of flow. It was never a heated exchange and we showed each other respect. I couldn’t judge him for his status in life, but I surely did question his morals and prejudices with a vengeance. Our discussion began to wind down without ever really unwinding. The conversation had just taken its natural course. At the end, I had one final question to ask.

“What if we were on a deserted island — just you, me and a really good looking black woman…” Suddenly, the door opened up and a group of very good looking women sauntered in, one of whom was black. “HER!” I exclaimed, looking right at her. She didn’t see or hear a thing. “What if it was just you, her and me?”

“I’d kill YOU, not HER. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.” I knew what he meant. Sex. Ain’t no way this dude was gonna go for me, Deliverance-style.

“You mean to tell me you’d kill a white man to save a black woman? Wait a minute. Doesn’t this go against your entire credo? People you’ve hated all your life? What would the KKK say about that? Kill a WHITE to save a BLACK?”

“You’re confusing me, man, you’re confusing me!” Aha! Gotcha, I thought to myself. “You know, you’re right.” he continued, “Yup, you are, but I’ll never tell my friends about it. I can’t. They’re my friends and they’d kill me.”

I guess I felt some satisfaction in thinking I had gotten through to the guy, but did I really? He had listened to enough, I reckon, and I’ll never know for sure.

“Thanks for the talk. Gotta go.” And off he went.

What surprised me the most was that the patrons sitting at the bar had listened intently to our conversation, unbeknownst to me. After the guy walked out the door and it shut behind him, they broke into a loud applause. They, too, thought that, maybe, just maybe, I had gotten through to him. Perhaps, I did, but that was then…

Occasionally, I think about him — the KKK man who sucks Marlboros for breakfast — the guy who returned to the hangin’ trees that only sway in the wind these days; back to the recollections of fiery crosses from days gone by. I hope and pray those days will one day be burned from all of our memories forever and that warm southern breezes of kinship will sweep through the minds of people like him everywhere. Gone with the wind.

We can still have a dream, can’t we?

Merry Christmas!

    This is a video I put together in 2009. I wanted to do a new one this year, but time got away from me. MERRY, MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!

Synchronization: Trayvon Walks - Zimmerman Talks

The following video depicts Trayvon’s walk from Frank Taaffe’s house (according to George Zimmerman) against Zimmerman’s call to the non-emergency dispatcher. This is just one account of the timeline and what MAY have transpired on the night of Feb. 26, 2012. It is strictly an interpretation and should be treated as such.

I synchronized it with the time Zimmerman told an investigator that he looked south from the T as the dispatcher asked if he was following him, ending with the advisement, “We don’t need you to do that.”

As LLMPapa so poignantly pointed out, it came exactly 10 seconds after Zimmerman slammed his SUV door shut — the same distance it took me 42 seconds to walk. 

The end of the video shows Zimmerman’s pace. What happens after he initially reaches the T (and beyond that point) is anyone’s guess.

Taking the Taaffe Tour at Twin Lakes

Right from the start, some of my closest friends have been quite ardent about George Zimmerman’s innocence. This opinion, of course, comes from their own beliefs on gun control and Second Amendment rights, with (perhaps) a sprinkle of racism thrown in. I don’t believe my friends are racist, though, and there’s no way to prove otherwise unless they come right out and say so. And they won’t. Just like George. And I guess it’s more convenient to believe a guy who can speak instead of a dead boy who cannot. Take the easy path and stick with the crowd.

That’s part of what this post is about. Could Trayvon have taken an easier path home that night? I’ll get to that.

Like I was saying, there are two sides of the coin and I would NEVER assume any of my friends are racist just because they believe Zimmerman’s account of events, despite his ever-changing stories. Was Trayvon running or skipping? It doesn’t matter. It was George Zimmerman’s God-given right to defend himself. Yeah, well, it was Trayvon’s, too.

I have plenty of friends who feel the exact opposite about Zimmerman; that he stalked and murdered Trayvon, and they are quite adamant in their belief, too. Simply stated, odds are, you’ll find more white male Republicans in support of George than you would white female and black male/female Democrats, and that’s just the way the cards fall. Will last week’s mass murder of first grade school children, teachers and an administrator, not to mention the killer’s own mother, have any effect on the way we think about guns? Will it soften any of Zimmerman’s fans?

I doubt it. Besides, buying an assault rifle is about as simple as buying a pack of cigarettes. Same day service. When will that ever change?

But getting back to racism and all, my friends are still my friends and I’m always eager to make new ones. Recently, I had an opportunity to talk to Frank Taaffe at some of the hearings. We chatted about different things like his DUI and the recent death of his son. Now, no matter what you think about him, his DUI was dropped and his son was still his son. You should also understand that meeting people in person and getting to know them doesn’t always match the persona they exude on the TV screen. Believe what you want, but my perception of Frank is different than yours. I’ll leave it at that.

Since the fall of the housing market, prices of units have dropped an astounding 67% inside the Retreat at Twin Lakes according to Frank. Homes that sold for $250,000 six years ago are now sitting in the low $100s. (See source) Foreclosures are not uncommon. Crime has increased. The pattern is not unusual here, but as sellers move, with no buyers in sight, plus the foreclosures, renters move in and the once private community moves closer to looking like an apartment complex than anything else. From what I could tell, people living there seem to keep a watch on things, but not always. For instance, prior to the shooting, there were 11 burglaries in 15 months. In the past 4 months, there have been 5, including two last week. In one case, it was the second time the occupant’s house was broken into. In August, he was robbed of a 60” television. This time, it was 4 family laptops, Frank said. 

Across the street from the recent burglaries, his neighbor was broken into, too, and a 56” television was stolen IN BROAD DAYLIGHT. Along with the TV, a Glock 9mm pistol was taken. This is another reason why guns should remain under lock and key, especially if the owner is out.

There have been several drug busts for heroin and cocaine, too, and it’s never pleasant when a SWAT team comes banging down doors only a few houses away from you. More than once. That’s what Frank faced.

This is all very exasperating and I can understand why community morale has dropped. Crime is rampant everywhere, of course, but we tend to remain focused on our own little world, wherever that may be. That’s why I completely understand a guy like Frank Taaffe. By saying I understand him, I’m not saying I completely agree with him. Of late, the break-ins at the Retreat at Twin Lakes seem to be taking place during daylight hours. While Taaffe concludes they are perpetuated (specifically) by “young BLACK males,” emphasis his, with no witnesses in sight, there’s no way to verify these claims. Therefore, it is baseless to mention color, but I can understand his frustration and that of his neighbors.

Inside that gated cluster are people who care about their homes and the quality of life there. They want a safe community, like everyone else. But is crime really higher there than it is in any other gated community in the Sanford area? It depends on who you ask and who is doing the talking. According to Crimestoppers, there were two burglaries inside the Retreat — one on Dec 12 and one the following day, both between 3:00 and 7:00 PM. During that same time frame, date-wise, there were a total of 33 crimes committed in Sanford. Since August, there were five burglaries inside the Retreat, just like Frank said, plus an assault, a theft/larceny, and two fraud cases. We’re not talking about a large development, folks, and I found no similarly gated community with matching crime rates during the August through December period. Non-gated? Different story.

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Following is a video shot from inside the Retreat at Twin Lakes, with Frank Taaffe as the guide. What you gather from it is up to you, but he was a very gracious host. While he explains a shorter, more convenient path Trayvon could have taken to get to his location, you can judge for yourself. Included in the video is a map, which is also found embedded below the video, on this post.

One other item, if I may… I have a thing or two to say on the matter of race. Whether we are yellow, red, black or white, there is only one race. Period. We may have ethnicities, but we are all part of the human race. If we were ever attacked by creatures from outer space, how quickly we’d realize that; and consider this the next time a friend or loved one is in need of a blood transfusion. Would anyone really care who donated it in a life or death situation? That’s the black and white question du jour.

Interested in another point of view? Please listen to DeeDee’s interview with Bernie de la Rionda, taken on April 2, 2012.

Something I've Been Working On...

This is tentative art (and a working title) for a book cover. Needless to say, it has been keeping me busy, but I should be back to blogging very soon. There’s lots of work involved in this project, with much more ahead. But HEY! My blog comes first. Sorry I haven’t been answering comments, but I certainly have been reading them.

Never say never, but I have no deadline for this book. If you ask me when it will be published, let alone finished, I won’t be able to tell you.

For whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee

Bill Geist said it best. On his Facebook page, he wondered “what is the NRA’s position on privately owned SCUD missiles and nerve gas?”

Geist, if you can’t place him, is a noted author, columnist and TV journalist for CBS. He is usually seen on the critically acclaimed program Sunday Morning on that network. He recently announced he has Parkinson’s Disease.

Speaking of Scud missiles, just the other day, Syria fired Scud-type missiles that landed precariously close to Turkey’s border. NATO decided to deploy batteries of Patriot air defense missiles along the Turkish-Syrian border in order to shoot down any that would otherwise land in Turkey.

For thousands of years, wars have begun over border disputes. Where do you draw the line. It’s mine! No, it’s mine! Do you want proof? At your next holiday dinner with family, take your glass of wine or whatever you like to drink and move it to the placemat of the person sitting next to you. Wait a moment and see the reaction. This close family member will explode in one form or another.

“What are you doing? Get that glass off my placemat! This is my space!” That little tract of land becomes their private property, even as a guest in someone else’s home.

That, my friends, is called sovereignty. What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is yours. Sometimes. Now, imagine this is the same type of situation between nations. One must protect its territory. If the Scud is fired in the direction of Turkey and a Patriot is deployed to destroy it, what happens if the missiles explode over Syrian territory. Is that an infringement by Turkey? After all, the engagement was in Syrian airspace.

My point actually has to do with political correctness. In order to be politically correct, the two missiles should “technically” blow up in the buffer zone between the two nations in order to not break any international rules set forth by the United Nations. It’s okay to buy and fire all sorts of missiles, but be careful with where they are used. Sadly, we’ve known for thousands upon thousands of years that we cannot trust anyone with a weapon of any kind. BOOM BOOM, BANG BANG, LIE DOWN YOUR DEAD. How many have died in battle?

Any citizen of the United States can buy a gun in the state of Florida without being required to have a firearms permit or license. A buyer will be subject to a background check with FDLE and there is a 72-hour waiting period, but once approved, you’re in. Buy the gun and take it home. This is for handguns only. For any other type gun, like rifles and shotguns, you don’t have to wait. Take them home right away! If you have a permit to carry a concealed weapon, you may be exempt from the waiting period if you buy a handgun, just like the one George Zimmerman bought. Just like the one Michael Dunn bought. 

How Adam Lanza ended up with two handguns and an assault rifle is baffling, but I would bet the farm that they were legally purchased. Twenty young, innocent school children and seven other innocents died yesterday at the hands of Lanza. In all 28, including himself. Lanza is like all the rest; cowardly. He took his own life. We will never know why he did it, but family and friends are saying he was highly unstable. Yet he had access to guns. Why? Because the NRA says so. I strongly believe in the Second Amendment — the right to bear arms. But enough is enough.

In its decision, District of Columbia v. Heller, 554 U.S. (2008), the US Supreme court affirmed the right to bear arms:

(1) The Second Amendment protects an individual right to possess a firearm unconnected with service in a militia, and to use that arm for traditionally lawful purposes, such as self-defense within the home

Of course, in the wrong hands, there’s nothing lawful about it and, unfortunately, we never know when someone will snap, like Michael Dunn and, now, Adam Lanza. Lanza joins an exclusive club — the access of evil that shoots up malls and schools before gunning themselves down. Victims are random. Death to all is the only thing that matters. Then, take the easy way out. There is no God to answer to in their minds. In Lanza’s distorted view, he saved the world from evil. Little Hitler.

It’s time to change the laws in this great country. It’s time to make the purchases of firearms more complex, like nations buying Scud missiles and nerve gas. It’s time to limit the types of purchases. If you collect guns and you absolutely need that AK-47, then it should be mandatory to keep it under lock and key, like a fine wine or a restored 1956 Thunderbird. Guns should never be left out unless the person owning it is the only person who knows how to immediately access it. Even car insurance companies will stipulate that you are the only driver covered. No one else. Hold gun owners responsible for the actions of others. The guns belonged to his mother. If Lanza hadn’t killed her, too, she should have been held accountable. If she were alive, she should be charged with being an accessory to murder, whether she knew or not that he would do what he did. She enabled her son.

The mind of Lanza was as hollow as the bullets he probably fired. God bless the victims and their families, and all who were affected. That includes everyone from everywhere. We mourn as a nation; the civilized world cries. We’ve suffered enough at the hands of lunatics. What can we do to stop the carnage? Well, there ain’t no time to wonder why. Whoopee, we’re all gonna die!

Something must be done to end it before these words from Roger Waters and Country Joe continue to ring true. Again and again and again. Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition. Hallelujah!

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Below are the names of the victims of the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting, as released by Connecticut State Police (Name, age, date of birth, sex):

Charlotte Bacon, 6, 2/22/2006, F

Daniel Barden, 7, 9/25/2005, M

Rachel Davino, 29, 7/17/1983, F

Olivia Engel, 6, 7/18/2006, F

Josephine Gay, 7, 12/11/2005, F

Ana M Marquez-Greene, 6, 4/04/2006, F

Dylan Hockley, 6, 3/08/2006, M

Dawn Hocksprung, 47, 6/28/1965, F

Madeleine F Hsu, 6, 7/10/2006, F

Catherine V Hubbard, 6, 6/08/2006, F

Chase Kowalski, 7, 10/31/2005, M

Jesse Lewis, 6, 6/30/2006, M

James Mattioli, 6, 3/22/2006, M

Grace McDonnell, 7, 11/04/2005, F

Anne Marie Murphy, 52, 7/25/1960, F

Emilie Parker, 6, 5/12/2006, F

Jack Pinto, 6, 5/6/2006, M

Noah Pozner, 6, 11/20/2006, M

Caroline Previdi, 6, 9/7/2006, F

Jessica Rekos, 6, 5/10/2006, F

Avielle Richman, 6, 10/17/2006, F

Lauren Rousseau, 30, 6/8/1982, F

Mary Sherlach, 56, 2/11/1956, F

Victoria Soto, 27, 11/4/1985, F

Benjamin Wheeler, 6, 9/12/2006, M

Allison N Wyatt,  6, 7/3/2006, F

No Way, Jose, By George!

I shot a video with Frank Taaffe soon after the hearing ended Tuesday. I know, I know - he is a controversial character who draws admiration from some and disdain from others, but he had something interesting to say, so please hear him out. It pertains to Jose Baez; no stranger to controversy himself.

I do want to say something about the hearing, though. Aside from matters dealing with discovery, voice identification, witness testimony and depositions, the most important thing to come out of it was the judge’s order pertaining to two defense motions in particular. One was the MOTION TO MODIFY CONDITIONS OF RELEASE, a 74-page whopper that ultimately went nowhere, and the other was the MOTION FOR CLARIFICATION OF ORDER SETTING BAIL, that also failed to budge the judge. After hearing arguments from both sides, she promptly denied the motions without further explanation.

Did it surprise me? Yes and no. I expected a denial, but I didn’t think the decision would come so quickly. However, the bottom line is that George Zimmerman lied about his second passport and he lied about the money he had in the bank when he talked to his wife in code while in jail, and when he sat silent in the courtroom as she lied in open court. While Mark O’Mara, his defense attorney, respectfully told the court that his client has complied with all court orders, I thought about what Zimmerman was supposed to do other than follow the letter of the law. That’s what any person under court order is supposed to do; it goes with the territory, so what makes him special?

O’Mara argued that evidence now surfacing completely exonerates his client of any crime. OK, fine, but save it for another day — the day George Zimmerman stands trial for the murder of Trayvon Martin. This was a day to prove his reliability; that you could trust George no matter where he is. Like he’s paid his dues. Well, he hasn’t paid his dues and he deserves nothing more than anyone else under the same conditions. He should not be pampered.

Also, O’Mara tried his best to rewrite history and turn Zimmerman into the real victim; a victim of racism. Baloney. If that’s the case, then the best place for him to be would be within the confines of beautiful Seminole County, 345 square miles of frolicking fun; safely tucked away, instead of roaming the countryside and risk being caught by all those delusional mobs of black monsters out to get him. Thank God they don’t exist in Seminole County.

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Since the hearing, news has surfaced that (then) Sanford police detective Chris Serino made many revisions to the police report before he submitted it to State Attorney Norm Wolfinger’s office. Serino was the lead detective on the case and in his initial report, he recommended that Zimmerman be charged with second-degree murder. After several revisions he settled on manslaughter. All of this was done within a five-hour period.

In the end, the general consensus of the Sanford Police Department was to write a recommendation — any recommendation — and pass the buck up to the State Attorney’s Office. Pressure on the police department from national civil rights groups was mounting, and they wanted it out of their hands.

But will this revelation hurt the prosecution and help the defense? In my opinion, it shows a department in disarray. Several Sanford police officers have already come out in favor of Zimmerman, so in this sense, it may help the defense, but the big problem facing them is that the State doesn’t need Sanford. They’ve got much larger support in the FDLE, the Florida Department of Law Enforcement. Their guns are much bigger than Sanford’s, and that’s the agency that did the brunt of the investigation that led to the charge against Zimmerman. Bernie de la Rionda will be relying on FDLE, and it might be necessary to debunk the Sanford Police Department for running a slipshod organization that couldn’t make up their minds on anything. Heck, their police chief was fired over the mess, but in my opinion, he was more of a fall guy. So much for that. I don’t expect this new story to have much of an impact either way.

Here is the interesting video interview with Frank Taaffe. Also, he invited me up to the Retreat, which I accepted, and gave me the 50 cent tour; well worth the price. That will be unfolded in my next post.

 Cross posted at the Daily Kos

Watch Me on ID Investigation Discovery Tonight

 Tonight at 9:00 PM EST, I will appear on the nationally broadcast program Motives & Murders: Cracking the Case | Not Again on ID - Investigation Discovery.

In 1997, Carla Larson was murdered near Disney property, where she worked as an engineer for a construction company. Her husband became an immediate suspect in the public’s eyes (not to mention law enforcement) because of his lack of emotion when interviewed on local television stations. He was downright indifferent. However, there was much more to the story, so please watch tonight to find out why…

From the ID Website:

When Carla Larson leaves work to grab lunch, she never returns. The all-American wife and mother is discovered naked and strangled to death in a nearby swamp. The investigation stalls…until a random love triangle provides a clue to finding her killer.

§

I will be featured on this program because of a two-part series I wrote and published on September 5 & September 8, 2010:

When karma strikes twice

Slowly, the wiles of justice churn

Motives & Murders: Cracking the Case will appear on the Investigation Discovery channel on Saturday night, December 8, at 9:00 PM EST. It will be repeated at midnight, at 4:00 AM, and Sunday afternoon at 5:00 PM. You can find out if your TV Service Provider carries the channel by clicking HERE and typing in your information. 

Newly elected State Attorney Jeff Ashton was also interviewed, along with Carla’s husband, Jim Larson. The interview took place in June of this year.

I don’t know how much I’ll figure into the program, but I do know about cutting room floors. In any event, it should be a very good show because I remember the crime so well. Please take a little time to read my two posts to familiarize yourself with the case.

Retreat at Twin Lakes Walk Through, Part Two

One month ago, I presented a video walk-through of The Retreat at Twin Lakes from George Zimmerman’s perspective — from the moment he stepped out of his vehicle to the time he says he was punched in the face by Trayvon Martin. 

This is part two of that video. It explores the fateful night of February 26 from Trayvon’s point of view. How accurate is it? I don’t know, but it should help you to better understand the area and the path the young man may have taken.

I received several e-mails from people; each with their unique requests for footage. I wish I could have accommodated you all, but I couldn’t. What I can tell you is that, as of today, two fences are erected along the northwest side of the complex, running south from Oregon Avenue and parallel to the western edge that keep people from entering the way Trayvon allegedly did as described by Zimmerman. There is a locked pedestrian entry alongside the main gate, so there is no reason to access the Retreat from anywhere else, other than the southeast gate. Also, clubhouse parking is restricted to tenants that are using the facility at the time, including the community pool. There is a street sign at the intersection of Retreat View Circle and Twin Trees Lane upon entering from the north, off Oregon Avenue. It is located atop the stop sign on the same corner as the clubhouse. Look for it in the video. It’s interesting to note that Zimmerman could not remember the name of the street, Twin Trees, nor did he notice those signs.

If you have any questions or thoughts, please add them in comments or e-mail me by using the “Contact Me” form located on the lower left sidebar. I hope you enjoy the music…

Also posted on the Daily Kos

More Proof Zimmerman Lied...

… And the Sanford Police Department was Duped

Take a look at the results of George Zimmerman’s CVSA Truth Verification test administered by SPD. It only takes a third grader to understand the test is fatally flawed. Or is it? Zimmerman passed the test with flying colors, but look again…

To this simple question, check out his response:

HAVE YOU EVER DRIVEN OVER THE POSTED SPEED LIMIT?

NO

He passed! Is there a legally licensed driver alive who has NEVER driven above the speed limit? Not even once, perhaps? Yes! George Zimmerman. So he claims. This proves he knows how to lie and get away with it. Obviously, this guy is a seasoned pro.

PLEASE CLICK ON LINKS TO ENLARGE

 ************************************************************

From the defense Motion To Take Additional Deposition

Motives and Murders: Cracking the Case

When Carla Larson leaves work to grab lunch, she never returns. The all-American wife and mother is discovered naked and strangled to death in a nearby swamp. The investigation stalls…until a random love triangle provides a clue to finding her killer.

I will be featured on this program because of a two-part series I wrote and published on September 5 & September 8, 2010:

When karma strikes twice

Slowly, the wiles of justice churn

The program will appear on the Investigation Discovery channel on Saturday night, December 8, at 9:00 PM EST. It will be repeated at midnight, at 4:00 AM, and Sunday afternoon at 5:00 PM. You can find out if your TV Service Provider carries the channel by clicking HERE and typing in your information. 

Newly elected State Attorney Jeff Ashton was also interviewed, along with Carla’s husband, Jim Larson. The interview took place in June of this year.

I don’t know how much I’ll figure into the program, but I do know about cutting room floors. In any event, it should be a very good show because I remember the crime so well. Please take a little time to read my two posts to familiarize yourself with the case.

Thank you,

Dave

The Heart of the Matter

I don’t think anyone will ever be able to connect  the racism dots when it comes to George Zimmerman and Trayvon Martin. The really creepy part about the two names is that they will forever be interconnected, like Abraham Lincoln and John Wilkes Booth. While not of the same magnitude as a presidential assassination, a life is still a life is still a life, and none is more valuable than another, whether red, yellow, black, white or any shade in between. We’re not talking red state/blue state; we’re talking about life and death, and it’s not a game.

Let’s take a quick look at the sad case of 45-year-old Michael Dunn. News reports say he “allegedly” fired 8-9 shots into an SUV parked at a convenience store on Friday night. I say there’s nothing alleged about it. He did it. The question is why. He said he didn’t mean to kill anyone. 8 or 9 bullets and he didn’t mean to what? The fact that he fired at all is a tragedy.

From all accounts, Dunn and his girlfriend had just left his son’s wedding reception and stopped at the Gate Food Post convenience store at 8251 Southside Blvd. in Jacksonville on the way back to their hotel room. He pulled up next to the SUV that had music booming LOUDLY. When he got out of his vehicle, he confronted the four occupants and complained. TURN IT DOWN, he screamed. An argument ensued and Dunn pulled out his gun. Some of the shots struck and killed 17-year-old high school student Jordan Davis, who was sitting in the backseat. No one in the SUV was armed, according to initial reports. Lt. Rob Schoonover with the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office said, “They were listening to a little music. It was loud, they admitted that, but, I mean, that’s not reason for someone to open fire on them.” (See: Many unanswered questions in loud music killing)

I hate to drag Florida through the coals again because shootings happen all over the world. Texas is a great state for shooting from the hip, so we are far from alone. Taken at face value, this seems to be your typical white-on-black shooting, and in some circles, the killer would be considered justified because of two simple “reasons” — the shooter owned his gun legally and the victim was black. Or African-American, if we need to be politically correct. Need more ‘splainin’? Talk to the hand. Yet it seems that the mere fact of being white and owning a gun somehow legitimizes a killing, but only if the victim is of color. God forbid that two white boys with concealed carry permits gun each other down. That would never make the news because there’s no worthy angle, and angles are the nature of news; black/white or white/black. Just like Hispanic/Hispanic doesn’t go far. There’s no racial edge.

We may question the motives of an angry white man leaving his son’s wedding reception where, I’m sure, alcohol flowed freely. We don’t know if Dunn even had a drop to drink, but we do know that a defenseless 17-year-old boy is dead. What sort of threat could any of the young men have been to the gunman? Why, if the shooter was so innocent, did he leave the scene and return to his hotel, only to drive home to Brevard County in the morning, where he was found and arrested? No one EVER shoots up a vehicle and leaves the scene unless they hope there are no witnesses.

Dunn entered a not guilty plea on Monday to charges of second-degree murder and attempted murder. His attorney said he acted responsibly and in self-defense. Shades of stand your ground! I can see it coming! At the precise second Dunn pulled out his gun, he felt threatened.

I feel that people like George Zimmerman and Michael Dunn make a mockery of the stand your ground law, but some dynamics are at work. While its intent may be all well and good, there are idiots who interpret SYG as a license to kill. They take more than the law into their own hands because, in both situations here, the shooter was the instigator, the judge, the jury and the executioner. It seems as if people like them believe they are wearing SYG armor and are impervious to prosecution. It’s called an arrogant sense of entitlement. Go figure.

Mark my words, Dunn’s defense team will subpoena Jordan Davis’s cell phone records. If the boy owned a smart phone, the defense will collect information from it; who he talked to, sent text messages to, and where he visited online. Rest assured, if he listened to Hip Hop music, used Hip Hop text language and visited gangsta sites, like all of today’s youth, he will be painted as a no good degenerate, just like the picture Mark O’Mara will try to portray of Trayvon Martin. It’s called character assassination. This leads me to an obvious segue. Please allow me to ‘splain. Yo, Yo, Yo…

§

Word on the street (and in the Orlando Sentinel) is that law enforcement has failed to download all of the data from Trayvon Martin’s cell phone, particularly what’s stored on the chip residing inside the phone. Why? Because the phone is still password protected. Tracy Martin, Trayvon’s father, knows the PIN, but he has yet to turn it over to authorities. There may be a few reasons for withholding that number, too, but what’s important to note first is that the defense does have information regarding the last few calls, according to Mark O’Mara. We’ll get back to that.

The gist of the matter is rather plain and easy to understand, but first the problem about perception. If Tracy Martin is keeping the PIN away from law enforcement, he must be hiding something, right? I mean, what else could the reason be? This would prove the kid was up to no good and deserved to be shot. George’s mission from God that night was to take out a boy who was clearly on a path of evil and destruction. Who knows how many people he would have harmed had he not been stopped right then and there; the night of February 26?

Yeah, right. How delusional.

If the Sanford police came to my door, showed me a photograph of my dead son and said he was killed in self-defense, only to find out later that the circumstances might not have been as law enforcement presented them; that my son was actually the victim instead, would I be inclined to trust them with any evidence at all? Remember, it was the Sanford police that insisted the screams for help came from Zimmerman, and when pumped for an answer to that very question at a most inopportune moment, Tracy said he didn’t think it was Trayvon’s voice. Is it? Is it? Well, is it? The man was in agony and denial at the time. What would anyone expect from a grieving father after recently finding out his son was killed and never coming back?

As time went on, it became apparent to Trayvon’s parents that the police were doing nothing to seek the truth regarding the death of their son. Things had deteriorated to the point that, on March 5, Sgt. Joe Santiago asked Tracy for the PIN, and his response was, at best, less than obligatory. He told the sergeant he’d check with his attorney. Three days later, during a March 8 news conference, Martin told the media he would not help the police because they were of no help to him. “My son left Sanford, Florida, in a body bag while George Zimmerman went to sleep in his own bed.”

What we must remember is that, while the PIN has been elusive, gaining important information from the phone has not. It was eventually sent to the Florida Department of Law Enforcement, where crime lab specialist Stephen Brenton was able to analyze the contents of the SIM and SD cards. Without the PIN, the data on the phone’s internal chip remains a mystery, but the two cards were revealing enough. From the Orlando Sentinel:

The information downloaded by Brenton at the FDLE lab “tells me the last few phone calls, but that’s about it,” [Zimmerman defense attorney] O’Mara said. “It looks like there is other information that I should have.”

This leads me right back to the heart of the matter. What difference does it make to anyone about the phone calls, text messages and Website visits Trayvon made days and weeks leading up to his death? O’Mara has records leading up to the shooting. What more does he need? Well, just like what I expect any criminal defense team to do, O’Mara’s goal will be to assassinate the character of Trayvon Martin. To what other end would it serve? That would mean Trayvon would die twice — once in real life and once in the courtroom — and if I were his parents, I’d do nothing to help the defense team. Absolutely nothing. Because everything will be taken out of context in a world where half-full becomes half-empty, and innocent texts between Trayvon and his mother could readily turn into a new and freakier Casey Anthony sideshow; where simple words become innuendo, perversions, and complete distortions of the truth. That would truly be heartbreaking.

Cross posted on the Daily Kos

Anatomy of a Filicide

Tony Pipitone from WKMG just reported that a search for “foolproof suffication” was performed on the Anthony family computer on June 16, 2008, the day Caylee Anthony died. Jose Baez claims that George did it, but Pipitone says that, according to the timeline, it couldn’t have been him. He was already at work. At the time, Casey’s cell phone was pinging in the immediate area of the house. 

Baez wrote about this in his book. He waited for the information to be admitted during the trial, but the procecution never produced it. While it’s true the defense was part of the dicovery process, this was evidence each side had the opportunity to examine. It was not something Baez had to share since the State could have readily concluded the same thing. Unfortunately, OCSO missed it. Had it been introduced, the prosecution would have argued that the death could not have been an accidental drowning and it may have impacted the jury. Sadly, there’s nothing that can be done. Double jeopardy, you know. To most of us, this just adds to what we’ve believed for a long time — that Casey Anthony murdered her daughter and she’s still the most hated woman in America, if not the entire world.

This is a story I wrote and published on March 27, 2009, over three years before the trial. Take from it what you will. Originally, I put a disclaimer at the bottom, calling it a work of fiction. Today, I’m not so sure…

CAUTION! CONTAINS LANGUAGE NOT SUITABLE FOR ALL AGES

It’s a perfect day for a murder

Dear Diary,

Last night I had a terrible fight with my mother. I hate her guts. It’s the worst fight we’ve ever had. Sometimes, I can’t decide who I hate the most, her or Dad, but I am so pissed off, I wish she was dead. Him too. Why, oh why, does she think I am a bad person when it is her? She sucks. I want her out of my life. I need to get away from this house and these people forever.

If Tony would only take me away. He must. He’s got to help me. Why do I feel my life is such a mess? If only I didn’t have the brat. She is nothing more than a pain in my ass. Today, I will start my life all over again. With Tony. Or Ricardo. Or… OK, Jesse. If not Jesse… and SHE will never be with us, whoever I’m with. Jesse? If only you didn’t love her so much, we might still be together. Maybe not.

Mom? You think you can take her away from me, but I will never let you. She would make you so happy because she could be the daughter you’ve always wanted. It was never me. You never loved me. What do you think I should do with her? It’s too late. You can’t have her and I don’t want her. I’ve made my mind up and today is it. That little shit will never, ever ruin my life again. She is dead. Screw you all and you will never find out about her. You think I’m crazy, do you? I’ll show you what crazy is all about. You got it. I’ll get even with you. You won’t ever be able to spoil her again.

Dad? Eff you, you weak son of a bitch. You are such a pussy. You let Mom run all over you. I’ve had enough of you and you think you were such a hotshot cop. Oh yeah? You are nothing and you will never figure out what I did with her because I am way smarter than you. You can rot in Hell. Besides, you always loved Lee more than me. You both did.

Lee? Just go on living in your simple little world. God, if you only knew how much I’ve used you over the years, you’d realize just how stupid you are. So’s your girlfriend. Too bad you’re not here to say good bye.

Brat? Today is the day. You will never see me again. Better yet, I will never see you again. Even better still, your grandmother is going to really, really suffer and in the end, I will laugh at you all. Sleep late. I don’t want you seeing Ci Ci before she goes to work. That’s why our door is shut. OK, here, take Mommy’s nanny Zani pill.

I’ve been planning this day for a long time. It didn’t have to be today, but after last night, this is it. It had to come sometime, because I was going nuts. Today, I feel liberated. My mind is made up. What? You wonder why Mommy is in such a good mood? Quick, go see Grandpa Jo Jo before we go. I need to get ready.

OK, Baby, let’s get going. I’ll see you later, Dad. I’ve got some errands to run. C’mon, let’s go. Say good bye to Jo Jo. Tell him you love him. Yes, we’ll see you later. Wave to him as we drive away. Go ahead, Sweetheart.

12:40 pm

She didn’t really need to go anywhere early that afternoon. She just wanted to get out of that house, away from the pain of the night before, so she drove around, chatting endlessly on her cell phone with her boyfriend, Tony, her ex-boyfriend Jesse, and her then-best friend, Amy, never paying any attention to her daughter. She headed down Chickasaw Trail to Lee Vista Boulevard, where she killed some time, about a half hour, at the shopping plaza; then she took off up Narcoossee to Goldenrod. From there, she headed north to Curry Ford and turned into the Winn Dixie shopping center just to kill more time until her father left and the coast was clear. OK, let’s go home for a minute. Mommy forgot something. It was easy to tell her toddler that they needed to go back home. Besides, the little girl always felt safe and secure in that house. Maybe, she messed her pants and Mom forgot the pull-up diapers and the pack of Nice’n Toddler wipes and that angered her. Oh, Come on. You’re too old for this. Whatever, this was the day she had been planning for a long time. She was starting to feel happy again, something she hadn’t been since before the day her daughter was born. She started the car and drove east on Curry Ford until she turned south on Chickasaw to return to the neighborhood where she grew up.

3:00 pm

When they got back to the house, they went into the bathroom where she cleaned the little girl and dried her off . Then, she led her into the bedroom. Mommy will be right back.  She went out to the garage to get the duct tape and a couple of trash bags. Then, she walked back in, took the bags into the bedroom and began peeling a swath of tape off the roll. Here, Mommy wants to play a little game. Come on, you little brat. She started to stick the tape around her head, from the left side of her face and far into her hair.

Mommy, what are you doing? the little girl wondered, unable to really speak like an adult and too tired too fight. Mommy, Mommy, Murfurlbalbl… The tape was now wrapped around the toddlers head and Mommy tore it off the roll, making sure it was stuck firmly to her mouth. She picked the small child up, who was lightly kicking and breathing through her nostrils, wimpering like crazy, as if begging for her life, but the pill had begun to take its toll.

Stop kicking, you little shit! Tears of fear were rolling off the little girl’s face as she struggled to free herself, but she was no match for her mother, as slight of build as she was. Finally, the Xanax she had given her earlier kicked in and the precious bundle of joy gave up. She set her daughter down and hurried into the bathroom to grab a bottle from under the sink. She poured the homemade chloroform onto a wad of folded up toilet paper, returned and held it against her daughter’s nose, just to make sure. All of the faith and trust this girl had in her mother was as weak as her now shallow breaths. What was so different this time as her mother picked her up, was how much heavier she seemed. I guess she never knew much about dead weight. Well, she was never as bright as she thought she was.

She carried her out into the back yard and walked up to the above ground swimming pool. The body made a light splash as it was dropped in. She held her under water until the bubbles stopped. It didn’t take long. The child-like breaths that once smelled like a field of fresh flowers on a breezy Spring day were forever silenced. The life she brought into this world was now dead by her own hands. To her, it was the most exhilarating, the most liberating feeling in a long, long time - until she tried to lift the child out of the water. Wow! This kid is heavy. She hadn’t thought about how much the water would log her down. She propped her little body against the edge of the pool, pulling her arms out and over the side. That gave her a chance to go get the pool ladder that would act as leverage as she struggled to pull the girl out of the water.

One of the things she’s known for is that she doesn’t like to follow directions. She’s never been good at finishing jobs, either. If her mother hadn’t been around to lecture and complain, her bedroom would have been a mess. When she pressed the ladder against the swimming pool, she never attached it firmly. That’s why the ladder was left next to the pool and it explains why she never closed the gate behind her. She never followed up on anything unless someone like her mother was behind her every step of the way and that angered her so.

3:30 pm

Fortunately for her, the pet dogs were napping when she re-entered the house. Casey always demanded that her parents stay out of her room. They always granted her wish for privacy. She was, after all, an adult woman and she needed her space. She walked into the bedroom, dropped her daughter onto the floor and put her soiled clothes into one of the bags. She dried the body and opened the other bag to put her little girl inside. Then, she pushed her under the bed, grabbed the bag of clothes and walked out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind her. She had to be very careful about making sure the door was properly closed. For one night, her bedroom was to be Caylee’s mausoleum. When she walked out the front door with bag in hand, she took one more brief look inside the house before locking the door. Good bye, she thought. Eff this house. No more fights. No more nagging. I am free, but she knew she had to come back tomorrow. This was enough work for one day.

Please Discuss the Case Nicely

I woke up this morning with a fever. My Bones are aching like crazy, which comes with thromboctyopenia and chronic anemia. I have a fever that’s 4.5 degrees above normal. That’s AFTER taking Tramadol for pain. I am going to rest all day and try to stay warm. This hits me periodically, and I just have to wait it out.  Ironically, I see my endocrinologist tomorrow for blood work.

LLMPapa's Video Depiction Could Cook Up A Zimmerman Conviction

LLMPapa has made quite a name for himself, particularly in video production, since the Trayvon Martin tragedy began making headlines. He’s got such a sharp eye and uniquely analytical mind that complement each other so well, nothing seems to escape him. His work is a gourmet blend of just the right ingredients.

While I fancy myself more of a writer than a videographer, I did manage to get my hands on footage from inside The Retreat at Twin Lakes the other day. I think most of you have probably seen it by now. If not, you can view it on YouTube, where I’ve uploaded some 40 videos. LLMPapa, on the other hand, has produced and uploaded nearly 300. In his latest video, he, once again, pokes holes in one of Zimmerman’s stories now reaching the size of a city block made of Swiss cheese. That would be row after row of thinly sliced fromage piled as high as the Orlando skyline.

The video I put together begins where Zimmerman allegedly parked his vehicle the night of February 26, got out and walked in search of a street name. Or was it a house number? Or was he pursuing Trayvon? I use the word “allegedly” lightly because you can’t trust one word that comes out of his mouth. Did he actually park his SUV where he said he did? Was he really looking for an address when he acknowledged following Trayvon after the dispatcher asked and scolded him for doing so? Something he later denied? That the dispatcher asked for an address that was, in fact, never asked for? You get the picture.

Anyway, LLMPapa, affectionately known as Papa, is like a five-star chef. He has a blank check when it comes to my grocery store of video vittles. He is free to mince, dice, chop and slice any and all elements in order to cook up a crowd pleasing platter of truth when it comes to the rotting lies of George Zimmerman. Low and behold, he did just that! For sure, you can always count on a real treat because he really knows how to dish it. Feed your eyes and ears on this. It’s a veritable mind feast…

To be fair, I think it’s only right to acknowledge a separate video put together by Trent Sawyer, under his pseudonym of stateoftheinternet, that also used part of my footage from The Retreat at Twin Lakes complex.

Finally, I want to thank Frederick Leatherman for posting and promoting my video on his blog, and Xena for helping to put it all together. This is truly a concerted effort. We are seeking nothing more than justice — without skipping dessert or running from the truth.

Retreat at Twin Lakes Walk Through

Just like the title says, this is a video shot at the Retreat at Twin Lakes, including some bonus footage. The video is a little pixellated. I think the camera and video editing resolutions and frame rates are different. I may try to fix it and upload it again… 

After viewing the video, simple questions arose. The evening of February 26, 2012 was cold, rainy and wet. It was a dreary night. Why would anyone get out of their vehicle to search for an address that no one asked for? Why get out of the vehicle at all? Addresses were quite visible all around. Wouldn’t driving to the other side have been much more convenient? And drier? In my opinion, this only leads to one thing — searching for a suspect on foot. George Zimmerman never looked for an address. He was stalking his victim.

Cross posted on the Daily Kos

Call Me A "Gagnostic"

 As a writer and journalist, I don’t particularly believe in gag orders, so when the second gag order motion was filed by the State on October 18, I had a feeling it, too, would be turned down, just like the first one on April 30. Sure, the first one was denied by a different judge, but the law is pretty clear about what a gag order is, and George Zimmerman’s defense team has not reached the brink of breaching the legal levee to a point of overflowing; when the public is flooded with pre-trial information that may possibly prejudice a jury down the road. Of course, this is assuming that the State passes its first hurdle — the ‘not yet filed’ defense motion for immunity. We won’t go there. Not now, anyway.

The definition of a gag order is quite simple. Law.com describes it as “a judge’s order prohibiting the attorneys and the parties to a pending lawsuit or criminal prosecution from talking to the media or the public about the case.” The description further states that a gag order “has the secondary purpose of preventing the lawyers from trying the case in the press and on television, and thus creating a public mood (which could get ugly) in favor of one party or the other.” A gag order would apply toward law enforcement officials and include all witnesses.

The second part of the description is intriguing because attorneys have been trying cases in the media since the first stone tablet announced something of legal merit thousands of years ago. Before then, it was grunt of mouth that spread the news, and I’m sure that, back then, there were lawyers that hung their slate shingles over cave entrances advertising their services. In those days, they probably wore custom-tailored saber-toothed fur ensembles to court instead of more mundane beaver skins.

Back to the present. The only thing that’s new about the George Zimmerman/Trayvon Martin case is that the Internet has evolved over the years. We didn’t see it during the O.J. Simpson era of the mid-90s because, unlike today, there wasn’t really a huge need for it. Cell phones were the size of bricks, they were very expensive, and most people were still content with their beepers, fax machines and copiers. I went online sometime in the mid-to-late-90s, but I was in information superhighway diapers until the early 2000s. That’s the way it is in the courtroom now because most laws regarding trial publicity were written prior to the massive explosion of the digital age. If we only go back four years, we witnessed it with the bombastic blast of information regarding the Casey Anthony case, the likes of which we’ve never seen. Thousands of documents were released to the public due to Florida’s liberal Sunshine Law. It wasn’t without problems, though. Case in point: If two different sized tires were found in the woods where Caylee was found, you’d better bet the public retreaded them and overinflated their minds to believe that Casey threw those tires there for a reason. They dissected everything. Why were those tires there? What was Casey hiding? Who helped her? Roy Kronk? God forbid that they might have been there since 2003. Yes, they became Casey’s tires, yet they never swayed the jury one way or the other. There’s a reason for that. They weren’t hers and they were never introduced as evidence at trial. Those woods had been used as a dumping ground for years. That’s the problem with evidence. It’s not always evidence.

Granted, the Zimmerman defense had been publishing all sorts of information on its site, the gzlegalcase, about their client and some of the evidence that’s been released to date, but it was nothing more than what’s been released to the public, anyway. The defense has merely been offering their own interpretations, and some conflicts with the way the State thinks. While the State has been very tight-lipped, that doesn’t mean the defense must play the same game. Most certainly, it doesn’t mean that we have to believe what anyone says, either.

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During the gag order aspect of the hearing on October 26, Bernie de la Rionda rambled on. At times, I found him to be inconsistent and somewhat disheveled, wordwise. He asserted that the defense Website had been somewhat unethical. Zimmerman & Company called witnesses liars and tried to bypass the media by offering their own version of the case instead of how the media might interpret it. I disagree. We are given the same information in discovery. We can write our own commentary. For instance, Zimmerman’s medical records indicate he may have sustained a broken nose during the fight with Trayvon the night of February 26. O’Mara clearly said it’s a fact and undisputed that his client’s nose was broken. I don’t have to believe O’Mara and neither do you, and that’s the whole point.

Discovery impacts potential jurors a heck of a lot more than anything the defense throws out, in my opinion, and no proof exists either way. His nose was broken, his nose wasn’t broken. You decide. Ostensibly, both sides will offer tons of rhetoric at trial. It’s the name of the game. There is one point where I may agree with de la Rionda. It’s when he commented about the defense site’s quote asking for donations from those who would do the same thing if they were in Zimmerman’s shoes. That’s pretty tasteless and crass, not to mention cold-hearted and grossly opinionated. SEND MONEY IF YOU THINK TRAYVON DESERVED TO DIE. Never mind that O’Mara’s job is to defend his client, not bark for money. If O’Mara has a fault, it’s that he can be overtly insensitive at times.

When O’Mara got up to explain why he had done nothing wrong to warrant the gag, I agreed with him until he asserted that the attorneys for Trayvon’s parents were using the race card. Yes, early on, it turned ugly in a racial kind of way, but O’Mara practically accused Benjamin Crump of inciting a race war. That’s just not true. I attended the National Rally for Justice on Behalf of Trayvon Martin in Sanford on March 22, and all I heard from the speakers, including Rev. Al Sharpton, was nothing but justice, justice, justice. Take it through the court system! That’s all they have been seeking. Not retribution. O’Mara claimed that Crump called Zimmerman a racist murderer and, I’m sorry, but I never heard that. If you can show me where Crump did, in fact, say it, I’ll eat my hat.

He also accused Crump and Natalie Jackson of being surrogates for the State. That’s not true, either, any more than saying that Robert Zimmerman is working for the defense. O’Mara claims that, as a surrogate for the State, Crump must be as bound to Florida Rule 4-3.6 as the immediate attorneys involved in the case. I disagree. Crump does not represent the State. His represents Trayvon’s family. Period. Even if a gag order were in place, it would have no bearing on him. I feel that the intent of this sort of strategy in the courtroom was to throw the judge off course. “They went thataway!” It didn’t work because Judge Nelson didn’t blink. She would not budge, and she often had to remind the defense and prosecution to stay on the road.

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I was fairly certain before the hearing began that Judge Nelson was going to rule against the gag order motion. While I had some problems with the defense, did anything ever rise to the level that I would consider iffy? No, but I can understand some of the issues at hand. For instance, what separates bloggers from mainstream media? The Huffington Post is a blog, but it’s the media. Daily Kos is as much a part of the media as the New York Times Website. So is NewsBusters. Then there’s Marinade Dave. We won’t go there, but my point is clear. There’s no single distinguishing line that separates media outlets, so why can’t the defense have a blog?

When O’Mara slightly belittled de la Rionda by reminding him this is 2012 and that law books are no longer on shelves, it reminded me of the final presidential debate on foreign policy, when Obama ridiculed Romney about the armed forces no longer fighting with bayonets. While I understood the president’s point, I knew he was wrong. Marines still carry bayonets. In that vein, not all attorneys are Internet savvy. The last time I checked, Office Depot and Staples still sell legal pads and writing instruments with ink, not just digital tablets and capacitative touch screen pens.

But now that we are in the midst of a technology frenzy that continues to skyrocket into the future, at a time when my six month old 3rd generation iPad is already obsolete, I question what good a gag order would do in today’s world. Just how would it impact a jury seven months into the future when we live in an age of lightning LTE speed? The old saying, today’s news is at the bottom of tomorrow’s birdcage, no longer applies because you can’t clean up birdpoop with the Orlando Sentinel dot com. This morning’s news is already old and who can remember what happened yesterday? Other than something that impacts us tremendously, like Superstorm Sandy, who cares? By the time George Zimmerman goes to trial, no one will remember O’Mara’s ramblings from last month, let alone care. Trust me on that one (but I do find it peculiar that nothing new has been posted on the gzlegalcase site [as of this writing] since October 23.)

Ultimately, Judge Nelson denied the motion because alternatives are available to the court to “ensure that an impartial jury can be selected. Those tools include a change of venue, a larger than normal jury venire, individualized voir dire, and stern instructions to the jurors as to their sworn duty to decide the issues based only upon the evidence.” I fully concur, but I think the best news to come out of her order was one simple, yet important, thing. Had a gag order been placed, other than Benjamin Crump, the media would have had no one else to talk to but Robert Zimmerman, Jr, and no one but the media and his own family care about him. And he only matters when there’s nothing better to report. Count your blessings. It’s good to be a gagnostic.

[Prior to the start of the hearing, I wasn’t sure I could get an Internet connection on my iPad. I did, but in the meantime, I asked Rene Stutzman, senior reporter at the Orlando Sentinel, if she had any paper to spare. She gave me her legal pad without hesitation. That was very kind and generous of her. Of course, I gave it back.]

Cross posted on the Daily Kos

Sandy

This is a song from Bruce Springsteen. You can’t get any more New Jersey than The Boss. New Jersey is my home state and I am very proud of it.

The name of this song is 4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy) and it’s from the 1973 album The Wild, The Innocent and The E Street Shuffle. It was released when I was in the prime of my life and very much in love with my NJ girl. We spent our summers on Long Beach Island, down the shore. Sandy has been one of my favorites since it hit the airwaves. It’s a very melodic tune. For nearly forty years, it’s conjured up wonderful memories of times spent along the Jersey shore. Sadly, I must add something painful to those memories in the aftermath of the hurricane with the same name that devastated my state. My heart aches tremendously.

This particular video showcases Danny Federici on the accordion. Danny died of melanoma on April 17, 2008. It was his final performance, when he briefly appeared with his E Street Band band mates onstage at Conseco Fieldhouse in Indianapolis on March 20. Danny was from my hometown of Flemington and we both graduated from Hunterdon Central High School.

Here’s to all my friends and relatives in New Jersey, whom I love very much. I have family and friends in New York City and Westchester County, New York. I have a very special friend in Pennsylvania. Most are still without power. My thoughts and prayers are with each and every one of you.

Cross posted on the Daily Kos

The Calm After the Storm

 I grew up in New Jersey. I still have a few relatives and many friends living there that I keep in touch with. Hurricane Sandy really concerned me, so, this morning, when I found out that everyone I know survived the mess safe and sound, I was quite relieved. Yes, there are massive power outages and downed trees all over the northeast, but no one I know was hurt. As of this writing, 89% of the population of Hunterdon County, where I was born and raised, is without electricity. Thank goodness for gas stoves, although not everyone has them.

Speaking of stoves, I spent eleven years in the restaurant business in the Garden State. I, quite literally, worked my way up from sweeping floors and dumping trash to, what my old boss once told me, becoming the best manager he ever had, and I did it in record time. I took great pride in that due to one thing; one person. I had the utmost respect for my boss, Jack Little, and I still do. He was the best boss a person could ever have and he helped raise me, whether he knew it or not. If I was his best manager, it was because of what he taught me as an employer, a father figure, and a decent and honest human being. It was the respect he showed others that was instilled in me. And from him, I learned how to be as cool as a cucumber under fire. Don’t panic! Think fast on your feet.

Inherent in any business, in order to be successful, is customer service. That’s the single most important factor, especially in a restaurant, where a customer wants to walk into a clean place, filled with smiling faces eager to serve you. It’s one of the cardinal rules of the service industry; service with a smile — and what you serve had better be just as good.

I was much younger then and it was not unusual for me to put in 80-hour workweeks; nominally, 60. I was quite sharp in those days, too. There was a time — I kid you not — that a series of events (call them major breakdowns) hit me all at once and I had to render split-second decisions. In the middle of a lunch rush, of all times, a deep fryer stopped working, a toilet overflowed, a customer complained that their order wasn’t prepared right, and two of the front counter girls decided it was the proper time to pick a fight with each other. Yup, in front of hungry customers, anxious to get their food and go back to work; customers who couldn’t care less about Debbie and Sue, nor their boneheaded boyfriends and who they flirted with.

From Jack, I learned how to work under pressure — how to deal with the daily events in the life of a restaurateur. Find ‘em and fix ‘em fast. He also taught me how to deal with people at all levels. After all, that’s what customer service really is, but it doesn’t stop there. It also includes the interaction between employees. How can a business run smoothly if there are underlying problems?

On that particular day, I called each girl to the back room, one at a time. By taking them out of the argument, I accomplished the first thing; they couldn’t fight. I told them that if I heard another word, I would fire them on the spot and handle the lunch rush without them. I had other boys and girls working at the time and we’d just have to work harder. Most importantly, they would be out of a job and I stressed that a thousand other kids were banging at my back door begging for work. Yes, they were kids.

“But, but, but,” they tried to explain in their whiny voices, “Debbie did this” and “Sue did that” and each boyfriend was somehow involved. I didn’t want to hear about it. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said, “but this is not the time or place. Customers don’t want to listen to your petty fights, do they?”

Basically, all it took was a minute to talk to each of them alone and things quickly settled down. I had learned a long time ago not to take sides, too. That was most important. NEVER TAKE SIDES because, in the end, I would be the only loser. And darned if it wasn’t the truth. After the lunch rush was over and things got cleaned up, wouldn’t you just know those two girls had already patched things up? There they were, taking their lunch break together, sitting at one of the tables and laughing up a storm. It was as if nothing ever happened. Had I taken sides, I would have been the real bonehead and worthy of the title.

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Since those days, I don’t know what happened. I left the restaurant business in the early 80s. Today, at 60, I’m no longer interested in running a business, nor am I healthy enough to open one, but, somehow, I seemed to have lost that touch. While I still know a thing or two about customer service, something is amok on my blog and only I am to blame for not keeping it under control. No one else. Understandably, I must grab the bull by the horns. Right now.

As with any business that deals with the public, it’s the meet and greet people who make your business successful. While management works diligently behind the scenes, it’s the front counter people that make and break a business. While I was all about hands-on management, I couldn’t do it all. No one can.

I understood, and still do, that I could serve the best hamburger in the business, but all it would have taken was a couple of employees to throw it all away; not by being mean to customers, but by what the customers saw and heard coming from the front counter. If I walked in off the street, I wouldn’t care if you’ve got the best burger on the planet. By running a sloppy ship, I would wonder if your kitchen was just as messy, and I seriously doubt I’d want to come back, let alone order anything. Do you wash your hands?

While no one on my blog is an employee and readers are not customers, please remember that half of Marinade Dave is what I write and the other half is what commenters have to say. That’s the entire menu – the recipe for success and it’s the beauty of blogging. Failure is not an option.

I realize that tomorrow is Halloween, but coming here should not be a frightening experience. I want more readers! I want more comments! I don’t want people to be afraid of anything. While I would never expect everyone to agree with one another, let alone what I write, hiding behind the mask of anonymity does not give anyone a right to be uncivil. Be nice to each other. I realize that many years of writing comments about the Casey Anthony case (and now this one) has hardened us. Today is the day to wipe our slates clean! At least, on this blog, because it’s all that’s left to do. Please believe me when I say this…

Marinade Dave is not the name of a hurricane and now is the time for calm after the storm. I refuse to write if it ends in a fight. We are a team and that means all of us!