This is Not Justice

First I direct you to this article:


A Nebraska judge bans the word rape from his courtroom.

By Dahlia Lithwick

Posted Wednesday, June 20, 2007, at 7:27 PM ET

here: http://slate.com/id/2168758/


An accuser can be prohibited from using the word rape on the witness stand
Usually we leave it up to the linguists and philosophers to muse on the crazy relationship between words and their meanings. In the law, words—the important ones, at least—are defined narrowly, and judges, lawyers, and jurors are trusted to understand their meanings. It's precisely because language is so powerful in a courtroom that we treat it so reverently.

Yet a Nebraska district judge, Jeffre Cheuvront, suddenly finds himself in a war of words with attorneys on both sides of a sexual assault trial. More worrisome, he appears to be at war with language itself, and his paradoxical answer is to ban it: Last fall, Cheuvront granted a motion by defense attorneys barring the use of the words rape, sexual assault, victim, assailant, and sexual assault kit from the trial of Pamir Safi—accused of raping Tory Bowen in October 2004.

Safi's first trial resulted in a hung jury last November when jurors deadlocked 7-5. Responding to Cheuvront's initial language ban—which will be in force again when Safi is retried in July—prosecutors upped the ante last month by seeking to have words like sex and intercourse barred from the courtroom as well. The judge denied that motion, evidently on the theory that there would be no words left to describe the sex act at all. The result is that the defense and the prosecution are both left to use the same word—sex—to describe either forcible sexual assault, or benign consensual intercourse. As for the jurors, they'll just have to read the witnesses' eyebrows to sort out the difference.


and then this article

Judge declares mistrial in Safi case
By the Lincoln Journal Star
Thursday, Jul 12, 2007 - 01:05:18 pm CDT


Concerned by extensive news media coverage and public demonstrations in the sexual assault trial of a Lincoln man, Lancaster County District Judge Jeffre Cheuvront declared a mistrial this morning, the fourth day of jury selection.

Cheuvront said the “glut of publicity” as well as public demonstrations outside the courthouse and Capitol Building this week caused him to doubt the court could seat an impartial jury.

“It would be asking too much to ask a jury not to be influenced by some of this activity,” he said in courtroom filled with about 30 prospective jurors.

About 75 people were called to the jury pool. Some 45 of them were later excused, often because of what they had seen or heard about the case from the news media.

The mistrial is the second in the case, state of Nebraska v. Pamir Safi. The first trial ended in a hung jury in November.

It was unclear early Thursday what will happen next in the case. Cheuvront said the case, if tried again, might have to be moved to another jurisdiction in the state.

Safi, 33, is accused of sexually assaulting then 21-year-old University of Nebraska Lincoln student Tory Bowen in October 2004.

Clarence Mock, one of Safi’s attorneys, said Thursday the mistrial was the result of a concerted publicity campaign by Bowen and her supporters to influence the jury.

“This is one of the most reprehensible attacks on the judicial system that I’ve seen,” he said. “This is totally the result of Ms. Bowen and her outside agitators to influence the jury.”

Angela Rose, whose Chicago based organization held rallies this week outside the Capitol and County City Building, strongly disputed Mock’s remarks.

“It’s not just me coming to Nebraska,” she said. “People in Nebraska are outraged. They just want justice in the courtroom.”

Rose’s organization, Promoting Awareness, Victim Empowerment, or PAVE, held the rallies to protest pre-trial orders by Cheuvront that barred witnesses from using works like “rape,” “sexual assault kit,” and “victim” during testimony.


http://journalstar.com/news/local/doc469652152182a872732942.txt




Let's see that sort of logic applied to a murder trial, will you be allowed to refer to the 'victim' as deceased, or will that be too inflamatory?

The detective cannot be refered to as a Homicide investigator, either, and what about the weapon? I'm sure they'll need to come up with a new term for that as well.

Yes, there is a percentage of women who are either evil enough or screwed up enough to misuse the system and file rape charges; that percentage, however is very small. It's a perfect example of how the US legal system is set up to protect the criminal.

It seems women can never relax and think things are truly equal, because I know every time I start to think that I hear a story like this.
Exhausting, indeed.

I applaud the people who stood up and protested this, and thank them for being vocal advocates of a woman's rights.

Love hurts

for the last two days, my nearly 7 year old cat Sassy has been panting and having trouble breathing, so today I got her to the vet and found out her heart has enlarged to twice it's normal size and is limiting her lung capacity. Her lungs are half full of fluid. We're treating her with medicine to help get rid of the fluid but there isn't really anything to do for her heart. We have to watch her closely and limit her activity. The doctor seems to think we'll know by Thursday or so if she'll be likely to pull through this. Even then she's going to be living with a heart condition. She is the sweetest animal I have ever known, and has seen me through a lot of rough times in the past few years. I can't even begin to explain how supremely terrible this feels.

I could hardly stand up when I heard the phrases 'quality of life' and 'make her more comfortable'. They're supposed to be good things, and I'm grateful to have such a nice vet who is concerned with them - but I still didn't want to have to hear them.

The Dr even kissed Sassy and told her that she loved her - we've been through a lot with this dr over the years but never anything major before. Then she told me we never know; Sassy is full of spirit and cats do have 9 lives, after all.

Happy Birthday Brother

Today would have been my brother's 35th birthday. It's hard to believe, as I will always think of him as being about 21. He had a huge personality and was always full of life. Losing a sibling is a wound that nothing can truly heal, not even time; the pain just gets more tolerable as you go along. It's a lot like having a limb amputated, I suppose; you get used to it. Just like with an amputatee who has the sensation of a phantom limb, as well, he is such a part of me that I can still feel his presence in my life even now.

Publication

After receiving only rejection letters in regards to representation of my novel 'The Heiress of Onderon' I have to admit, I had been starting to feel rather down-hearted. It is part of the business, I know; I've always known writing was a hard career to get started in. Still, a little good news can go a long way at a time like this.

So, when I opened my e-mail today and found a message from someone at 'The Lutheran' magazine (not to be ungrateful, but without asking her for permission, I hesitate to publish her name) informing me that the essay which I had submitted to them would be the feature of their weekly e-newsletter on June 12, the Tuesday before Father's Day.

The essay is about the example my father has set for me, for life in general but specifically as a Christian. It means a great deal to me to have such a personal piece selected for publication. It helps to remind me that all of the best, most important things in my life have begun with my family.

(To receive the 'The Lutheran' e-newsletter every week, please go to http://209.200.93.100/template/index.cfm and you'll find the link on the left-hand column.)

Blink of an eye

This morning, I called my boyfriend; he'd spent the night out with his best friend. He had too much to drink so he slept it off on his buddies couch. When I called, I could tell they were still having fun. I could hear him in the background, still talking, teasingly competing for Gavin's attention. I told him to have a good day, promised I'd call him back tonight and hung up. They were heading out on their motorcycles, which was their perfect way to spend the day, so I felt confident they would.When I called him back tonight, Gav was in tears. He and his friend had been challenged to a race. Gav declined; his bike is older and he hasn't had time to work on it much. His friend accepted the challenge, and died in an accident. Just like that.

So many emotions. Hurt, fear, anger. Part of me wants to slap him and ask him why? Why would you do something so foolish, so reckless? Part of me wants to just cling to Gav and hold him and take as much of the pain and grief off of him I can, share the burden. Part of me is relieved, even because it WASN'T Gav. And of course, I feel guilty about that feeling, too.

Life is so fleeting - sometimes it seems it will last forever. Then in the blink of an eye, it's gone.We'd all be better, I think, if we kept that in mind. We'd be slower to get angry or irritable with one another and quicker to say 'I love you'.

Happily ever after

When you’re little, they tell you stories that end in ‘happily ever after’. Maybe, once upon a time, there was such a thing as ‘happily ever after’, but in the here and now reality of twenty-first century America there is no ‘happily ever after’ – just the here and now, which may be happy but may also be sad, painful, terrifying or boring.

Instead of spending our time waiting for ‘happily ever after’ we have to learn to accept and what’s more appreciate the moment.

At age seventeen, the first time I kissed the man who would be my husband I felt a rush of emotion, an overwhelming surety that he was my ‘happily ever after’ – the last man I would ever kiss, the man I would spend the rest of my life loving.

At age twenty-eight, finding myself left behind in his past, I had no hope for the future. I had no hope for the moment. For nearly three years, I held my breath. I didn’t move, I barely existed. I remained there, waiting for life to come back, for the path to the happily ever after I’d been promised to be unblocked.

Now, at age thirty, I am learning that there are other paths to other futures, but that no knight in shining armor is going to come and scoop me up and carry me off on his white stallion along one of those paths. I have to choose one and then take the steps myself. I have to carry my own weight and make my way to the next story of my life. It might not be a fairy tale, but there are plenty of other stories in the world which are better suited to a mature woman than fairy tales.

When I was seventeen, I had my fairy tale. When I was twenty eight, my fairy tale came to an end. I could be angry, or hateful or hurt. I’ve been all of those things, as a matter of fact. Now, I’m ready to close the cover on that story of my life and open a new one. It may last for a year or ten years or twenty. I won’t make the mistake of assuming that it will never end and therefore take the middle part for granted; each part of the story is important and precious. I don’t know how many stories I will have while I am here on this earth, or how long any of them will be. I do, however, know now that there is no forever – there is only now. Make the most of it.

Prayers

For One More Day

Tonight, around six -thirty (after dinner was over, I had talked to my boyfriend on the phone about nothing, just for the sake of hearing his voice, and before anything remotely interesting was scheduled on TV) I was bored, a little lost for what to do (I just completed the manuscript of my first novel last night - a three year process, and I didn't feel like sitting at the keyboard again just yet) so I ran a nice warm bath and selected one of the books-I've-been-meaning-to-read from my seemingly bottomless books-I've-been-meaning-to-read collection.

I have a tendancy to pick up books because they're in the sale section at Barnes & Noble or keep books that the Book Of The Month Club sent me because I forgot to respond to their monthly mailings; sometimes it seems silly to have books I don't necessarily have any previous interest in reading around. On nights like this, I understand why I can't resist the bargain books and can never send any book away once it's been delivered to me. I'm like a little old lady who can't turn away a stray cat.

Sometimes, those stray-cat books give me a few hours of entertainment and nothing more. That's alright; who can complain about a few hours of entertainment, after all? That's really the point; the reason why we buy most works of fiction in the first place.

Sometimes, though - sometimes you get a glimpse of something bigger, better, brighter - you become a part of something special, and when you are done reading you are not the same as you were when you started.

At about six-thirty tonight I climbed into the bathtub with a copy of Mitch Albom's 'For One More Day' which I had put on the shelf with the thought that I'd heard good things about Mitch Albom's stories and really ought to check him out.

At seven, I had read 1/3 of the book and my toes had gone pruny, forgotten in the warm water.

I climbed out of the tub, toweled off quickly and slid into my flannel PJ's - then settled in to read the rest of the book. It was five minutes before nine PM when I finished the book, bawling like a baby and looking at everything in my life a little differently.

Do yourself the favor of reading this book.


You can buy it at Amazon.com for something like $13.83 or I'm sure at just about any online book retailer or good old fashioned bookstore.

Take the leap

We want to be together. Not just a little - not for a visit here or there; a week, two weeks stolen from our real life - he wants me to come there, to England. Maybe next spring or summer. I know, it's fast - we're not making any solid plans, I mean we can't even actually get together for a two week visit until this fall; but it sure feels like we have something special. He wanted to come here, at first, so I didn't have to give anything up in order to be with him but where I live, everyone is moving away because there are no jobs to be had. The town is losing money, people and businesses - not just the town, in fact, but the entire state of Michigan is floundering. I know if I could get a visa I could get a job in the city that would help us afford what we need. Maybe, by then, I'll even be selling some of my writing on a regular basis.

Yesterday he said: 'I am SO going to marry you someday. I'll just keep asking until you say yes' I've looked into immigration laws and there is a visa specifically for people who are from different countries who want to pursue a relationship without actually getting married first and then regretting it, so that's what I'm looking into at the moment. It lasts for three to six months depending on who/where/when. There's still a ton of time, space and paperwork between here and there. A lot of things could change. I don't know where it will all lead, but right now? I'm floating! My head is in the clouds - making plans that seem at the same time completely far-fetched, romantic and fantastical but somehow quite possible and real.

This feeling - like all of my life was somehow just practice, leading me to this point in time when my life is really about to begin - is exciting and terrifying and thrilling and amazing...

The idea of moving to a foreign country, even someplace as familiar and similar as England is very exciting, something I've always thought I wanted; but honestly I can't imagine actually doing it just for my own sake. But for Gav? For him, I think I could do almost anything.

And what a blessing to think that I already have two amazing friends in England who would make adjusting that much easier.

I considered going to England for a year once, doing volunteer work with a church program. My now Ex-husband told me I could never do it; no matter how much I thought I wanted to. At the time that may even have been true. I was a different person, then. It's funny what a difference it makes to have someone who loves you and wants to be with you so much; someone who you love so much that you are willing and able to take a leap of faith.

I'm ready to leap. Y

Love, Love, Love

"Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get, it's what you are expected to give -- which is everything." -Anony.

Challenging myself

I used to be a skinny little thing. I couldn't even donate blood because I didn't weigh enough. I had no idea back then how lucky I was, and how I should have learned to take better care of myself. In the past few years I have greatly increased my size due to a number of reasons; unhappiness in my marriage, clinical depression, a job which involves long hours seated in front of the computer and little to no excuse for exercise. At the moment I am squeezing into a size 12, nearly 170 pounds at 5 feet and 2 inches tall. My measurements have gotten up to Bust38-waist34-hips42 and I have decided that enough is enough.

So I have decided to challenge myself to be a happier, healthier and yes, skinnier me. I know that the health benefits of a better diet and increased exercise will be worth the effort in and of themselves, but the prospect of looking better and maybe fitting into a size ten (or maybe even size 8) again add quite a bit of motivation.

Today I started a routine of Tai Chi exercises; they are low impact but as I went through the twenty minute routine I could feel the way my muscles strained and definitely believe that these will be good for toning the areas of my body which have gotten too soft. I have also started walking a few miles a week as the weather allows and simply trying to remind myself to get up from behind the desk and move around more. Playing with my cats, stretching, and even dancing on occassion as the mood strikes.

As far as the diet is concerned... well, it's only two days after Easter and I gave up chocolate for Lent. I'll start the diet tomorrow. ;)

D-I-V-O-R-C-E

Divorce is not a dirty word.

I admit - I've been hiding from it. Nearly three years - two since we really stopped trying to pretend we were going to work it out - and yet we're still legally married. I thought about filing once; even made an appointment with a lawyer but he talked me out of it. Said he really didn't want it to end that way. So tell me - how would you like it to end?I didn't ask that. Maybe I should have.

So what's changed? A lot of things. I'm starting to realize how much better off I am without him, for one. Being with him was like having blinders on; the view of the world he wanted me to have was narrow. I have the support of friends who are just mine, and not ours. I have someone who loves me for who I am, and not who they can make me into. I'm free. Except for that pesky little piece of paper. I'm taking care of that, though.

It will be final by the time the new man in my life - the voice on the end of the line who has awakened the love inside of me which I have denied for far too long, the face in the photo which brightens my day, the spark of hope which ignited the fire which set me free - sets foot on American soil.

I love him already, and that is a priceless gift. I've started to believe in love again.

Loved like that

I've been going through my music library lately (Doing a lot of sorting and cleaning in many aspects of my life in fact) and I came across a song I used to love when I was in high school.
It made me remember the dreams I used to have about what love was supposed to be, and although it made me cry, it also gave me hope for the future.


Shenandoah - I wanna be loved like that

Natalie Wood gave her heart to James Dean
The high school rebel and the teenage queen
Standin together in an angry world
One boy fightin for one girl
I wanna be loved like that,
I wanna be loved like that
A promise you can't take back
If you're gonna love me
I wanna be loved like that
Daddy never gave Momma a diamond ring
But Momma never wanted for anything
But what he gave her it came from the heart
In a bond that was never torn apart
I wanna be loved like that,
I wanna be loved like that
A promise you can't take back
If you're gonna love me
I wanna be loved like that
An old man kneeling all alone
Plants his flowers in a garden of stone
For seven years now she's been gone
And his devotion is still goin strong
I wanna be loved like that,
I wanna be loved like that
A promise you can't take back
If you're gonna love me,
I wanna be loved like that



Is it really so much to ask? Y

Thou hast wounded the spirit that loved thee And cherish'd thine image for years; Thou hast taught me at last to forget thee, In secret, in silence, and tears.

~Mrs. David Porter

Poetry

Indulgent by LA Watkins

Your name lingers on my lips
Like chocolate
Like peanut butter on the roof of my mouth
I say it, again and again
Rolling it over on my tongue
Tasting it, sticky, sweet and smooth
Your voice echoes in my mind
Sweeter than any symphony I’ve ever heard
It gets in my blood and slides along my veins
Filling me up from the inside out




Always alone by LA Watkins

So tired of being alone
So scared of reaching out
So sure I need somebody else
And still so full of doubt
I cry I cry I cry
You can see
I draw back
When you reach out to me
I hope you will wait
I hope you’ll be there
When I am ready
To believe you really care
I hang on tight to my heartache
It’s all I’ve had to hold
There’s no room for someone new,
Until I let go of the old
I remember love, such love
I thought it would last always
Never thought I could waste it all
Wasted it so many ways
I’m alone in the twilight,
Here the voices come again
Each one urging me to come their way
None of them knows my name
No matter what we do,
It seems
We are always alone
Except in our dreams
Reach out, reach out,
As far as I can
Hoping that maybe,
You’ll be there to hold my hand.

never be without you

If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you. - Winnie the Pooh (AA Milne)

Have you ever loved someone this much?

Love songs

Today I want to suggest the song 'Iris' by Goo Goo Dolls. This song was written for/featured on the soundtrack for the movie 'City of Angels' but it applies well to a lot of real-life love situations. Such as Long distance love, for example.

I feel that this song speaks a profound truth about love and human nature, that we just want to be seen by someone whom we love. We want one special person in our lives to really know us.

"Iris' by Goo Goo Dolls (City of Angels OST)

And I'd give up forever to touch you
Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now
And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
Cause sooner or later it's over
I just don't want to miss you tonight
And I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive
And I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am

The Highwayman

Possibly my favorite poem of all time is 'The Highwayman' by Alfred Noyes.

It's a celebration of love in all it's stupid, eternal, self-destructive glory.

The line that hits me in the heart every time is "Watch for me by moonlight, I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

Here's the link to the poem in it's entirety : http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-highwayman/

Enjoy!

The shortest month and the longest

Today is the first day of February, both the shortest and longest month of the year in my experience. It may only be 28 or 29 days long, but it is the coldest, dreariest 28 or 29 days of the year. I usually approach the month of February with a sense of dread sitting heavy in the pit of my belly, but this year I am determined to face each day individually and with an appreciation of the fresh start each morning represents. I'm not going to let this February be bad just because there have been a few in the past.

One way I am determined to fight the February blues is by embracing the romantic spirit of February's most famous holiday, St. Valentine's day. Every day, I'm going to try and list a romantic or love related short story, novel, poem, song or movie which has particularly touched my heart and sparked my imagination.

Today I would like to start with Bram Stoker's story 'The Castle of the king'.

This is one of the most beautiful stories I have ever read; dramatic and poetic, just as love should be. It's about a man, a poet, who refuses to be kept apart from his beloved. He is determined to follow her anywhere, even to the castle of the king of death.

You can read this story at http://www.classic-literature.co.uk/ the classic literature library which features free public domain ebooks and classics. This link will take you directly to the story : http://www.classic-literature.co.uk/bram-stoker/the-castle-of-the-king/ .

I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

Worth a thousand words

Two of my favorite pictures I've ever taken

The first is my nephew DJ before he could ever say a word, his facial expressions said plenty






and this one is my kitty BV - and I love this picture for a lot of reasons - I don't think words can really explain it