First Law Job

Because I want to shout it from the rooftops, I'll post it on my blog.

As of this morning, I accepted a position with The Law Offices of Peter G. Angelos.  I'll be doing my part to make the world safe to drink groundwater in.

Thank you and good night.

Don't articulate---Exclamate!!

To the growing chronicle of why Maryland law is better than Texas law, I add this. Texas Rule of Evidence 103(a)(1) mirrors the federal rule:

Error may not be predicated upon a ruling which admits . . . evidence unless a substantial right of the party is affected, and . . . a timely objection or motion to strike appears of record, stating the specific ground of objection, if the specific ground was not apparent from the context[.]

For my non-law friends, this is referred to as the "specific objection rule." At trial, you can't just yell out "Objection!!" and expect the judge to hammer her gavel and affirm your just rage with a clear and condemning "Sustained!!" She won't. Not in Texas, at least. Instead, you have to articulate, saying something like "Objection---hearsay," or "Objection---the defendant's sexual history is irrelevant to whether he ran the red light." As you can see, exclamation points get drowned in the articulation.

But in the Old Line State, shaped like a gun with a law as simple and effective, there is no specific objection rule. Read for yourself:

Error may not be predicated upon a ruling that admits . . . evidence unless the party is prejudiced by the ruling, and . . . a timely objection or motion to strike appears of record, stating the specific ground of objection, if the specific ground was requested by the court or required by the rule[.] (emphasis added)

Maryland Rule 5-103(a)(1). That, my friends, is colloquially referred to as the "Maryland!! beats Texas. rule." In a Maryland court of law, see, you can vent your frustration with that lone beautiful word: "Objection!!" See? When you don't have to articulate, you can exclamate. And that's a beautiful thing.

The Why Chromosome

Some day, when I have kids, I hope to instill in them the importance of asking why.  Two recent cases I've read for class have made me want to ask the writers that question.

First, a dissenting judge in a Texas Court of Criminal Appeals case once wrote:

I believe that if this Court were abolished, its chambers demolished, the ground plowed up, and the site paved over, one day a crack would appear in the concrete, and through that crack a black-robed arm would thrust an opinion that says, "We hold that the indictment in this case was not an indictment."

Pretty harsh words.  What are those judges, ostensibly neutral, intelligent, and skilled legal analysts, doing invalidating indictments?  It can't possibly be that there's some good reason to invalidate the indictment.

And second, Justice John Paul "the Second" Stevens dissented in the recent gun control case (D.C. v. Heller).  He contested Scalia et al.'s interpretation of the Second Amendment and concludes:

The evidence plainly refutes the claim that the [Second] Amendment was motivated by the Framers' fears that Congress might act to regulate any civilian uses of weapons.

(emphasis mine).  Why did five of the nation's most highly respected jurists, ostensibly neutral, intelligent, and skilled legal analysts themselves, ignore such plain evidence?  It couldn't possibly be that the evidence wasn't quite so plain.

Sometimes people do things that I think are stupid.  But I have to remember to pause and reflect.  People aren't really that stupid, so they must have (or think they have) some good reason for acting stupid.  Even those crazy judges (who must be on some payroll) who claim to be protecting individual rights but are really just helping keep criminals out on the streets.

Just the Facts, Ma'am

I always thought that lawsuits were won or lost on their merits.  I mean, sure, a really good lawyer could win a really bad case, and vice versa.  But I always thought that who your attorney is didn't really matter, all else equal.

But about a week ago, I did my first mini trial.  My partner and I represented a life insurance company trying to avoid paying out a policy for an insured who committed suicide.  Meanwhile, next door, four other amateur lawyers were trying the very same case.  Afterwards, we learned that the life insurance company prevailed in one courtroom and the insured prevailed in the other courtroom.

Lest you forget---these were the same facts presented by different pairs of amateur lawyers.  None of us were terribly great or awfully terrible.  The only real differences between the two cases were the lawyers and the juries.

There are some interesting---if not wholly enjoyable---implications from that.

Don't Say I Didn't Warn You

I'm a big fan of some of our justices on the United States Supreme Court.  I generally like Clarence Thomas, mostly because of his audacity to be a staunchly conservative black man in a hugely public position.  Whether I agree with his ideas or not, that alone is worth my respect.  I also like John Roberts and Sam Alito, though I think mostly because of their upbringings in blue collar and immigrant families, respectively, and their rise to the most powerful tribunal in the nation.  They represent the American dream.  Most of the justices on the Supreme Court right now represent the American dream, and I can dig it.

What I can't dig is acting like those accused of committing crimes and the police are on equal footing.  The New York Times today published an article about America's exclusionary rule, which basically says that, if the police break the law when they're coming after you, then the State can't use whatever evidence they find because of that illegality against you in court.  Apparently, some of our more conservative justices (the article mentions only Scalia and Roberts, but I'm sure Thomas and Alito are on board as well) are starting to think that's maybe that's not a good idea.  Apparently, we need to help out the police.

Or maybe not.  The United States government has a budget with 13 digits.  That's $2,900,000,000 for FY2008.  My wife and I have a personal budget with only five digits: $x0,000.  But there's more.  Let's say I get under investigation for some tax crime.  The U.S. has U.S. Attorneys and all their staff trying to prosecute me, with IRS special agents investigating me, and the advice of the DOJ Tax Division helping out too.  If we assume that just one person from each organization is chasing after me, that's three highly qualified and experienced people going against me, a law student with almost no experience in the courtroom or in police investigations.  Maybe I can retain a lawyer, but the chances that I can afford a lawyer who specializes in tax criminal defense---to help even out the playing field---is pretty slim.  We're talking about David and Goliath.  And I'm David.  Only I don't have any stones for my sling.

The only stone for my sling is the exclusionary rule.  Take that away, and I've just got a string.