Summoned by the State

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Recently
by Andrew Ward: The
State of Conspiracy

 

 
 

Well, They
finally got me. For jury duty, that is.  The Court summons
came in the mail, threatening force if I didn’t show my face at
the court house on the declared date.  And this letter was
not a request: it was an ugly, mandatory government wrench in my
regularly scheduled programming.  Not being the confrontational
type I eventually filled out their outdated form, and began frantically
researching one thing, and one thing alone: how does one escape
jury duty?

I talked to
friends and family, did some surfing online, and finally found my
escape hatch: premature nullification invocation.  You see,
judges and prosecutors cannot stand the fact that a juror has the
right to vote “not guilty” if he believes their law is unjust. 
Statists loathe the power of the people to judge their sacred Law
and make no effort to promote such a contemptible concept in the
official juror’s pamphlets.  Consequently, if you bring up
Jury Nullification early, the judge will more than likely excuse
you from the building.  After all, they’re looking to convict.

So the day
finally came.  I put on my Monday’s best, took the subway to
the court house, and sat inside the cold orientation room with about
sixty of my fellow law-abiding citizens.  The “honorable” judge
entered, we were told to rise for Him, and he informed us that we
did not have the right to discuss the case with anyone outside
of the court.  At this point I’m thinking, “Great.  I’m
surrounded by a bunch of lemmings who worship this stupid charade;
I’ve got to get out of here!”  Eventually, forty names were
randomly called, and much to my chagrin, I was one of them.

After entering
the court room another clerk ritualistically called out twenty four
names to approach the front.  Once again, I was one of the
names called. Now I’m getting worried.  I really don’t
want to be a part of this.  Eventually we stood, raised our
hands, and took an oath to swear by something or someone; maybe
it was Obama.  But I’m pretty sure it wasn’t God. I don’t think
they allow God in a court room anymore; just “admissible” evidence.

The judge then
gave us the shocking case details: the thirty year-old male defendant
is accused of having sexual relations with a fourteen year-old girl. 
At that moment the entire courtroom looked at the defendant: a poor,
solemn, Spanish-speaking man sitting by his lawyer and translator,
both of whom were probably explaining that he had no chance in hell
of being found innocent. We then turned our eyes to the alleged
victim’s family that was eagerly waiting to see if their tax dollars
would be spent imprisoning this man. The judge then gave the go-ahead
for the tough prosecutor to begin fishing out all trouble-making
jurists.

Here the prosecutor
proceeded to paint an ugly picture of the defendant by first questioning
the jury. “Does the fact that an abortion took place offend you?
Does the subject matter bother you? Are you offended that we recorded
their phone conversations?” At this point I am blankly staring,
unsure of how to react, or what to do. Then the prosecutor got me
on this one: “Can you put aside the fact that the relationship was
consensual to deliver a proper verdict?” I promptly raised my hand
to ask to approach the bench, where the defense, prosecution, and
the tape-recording transcriber awaited to hear what on earth I had
to say.

I told them
that the case did not bother me because there was no force involved,
and that there were young girls mature enough to make a conscious
decision about sex.  I then asked if the court recognized the
right of a juror to nullify a law that he or she didn’t agree with.
Obviously, the honorable judge replied, “No!” After a pause he glaringly
asked, “You think it’s okay?!”  In response I explained that
while I do not endorse the action, it was consensual, so I see no
problem with it.  He turned to the lawyers and asked if there
was any reason why I should not be excused.  The prosecutor
held her head down and said, "No." The hopeless defense,
attempting not to displease the judge, also agreed, and I hurriedly
walked out of hell and into the “free” world.

It was an absolutely
beautiful day outside.  I enjoyed the warm weather with my
windows rolled down and blasted my happy music with glee, for I
was no longer hassled by the inconvenience of my so-called duty. 
I was a free man, unlike that poor defendant.  I was also a
philosophic hero, for I stood up to a judge and prosecution by telling
them what I thought of their Almighty Law.  And while most
were impressed by my conviction, a critical question came my way
with no immediate answer: “So… you didn't get to nullify any laws?”
I began to wonder: did I do the wrong thing by exposing my beliefs
so soon?  Maybe I should have played along, kept my mouth shut,
and stay on the jury to give that man a chance? Talking to those
closest to me, they claimed it was a no-win situation and that I
shouldn’t beat myself up over it. But their words offered no comfort.
The “justice” system had played on my selfishness and disgust of
the discordant process to expunge the only non-drone in the room.

In torment
I was kept awake with the realization that I should have stayed
to fight for the defendant.  Sure, I was there against my will. 
Sure, liars made me swear to tell the truth and the defendant was
just a “depraved” stranger. Sure, I would have upset the law-abiding
jury. And sure, a mistrial would only delay a guilty verdict a few
days. No matter what, the defendant was doomed to be eaten alive
by the jaws of law, and I did not even have the gumption to throw
the dead man a life preserver.  Who knows, maybe I could have
stopped it; at least bought him a few days of hope, if anything
at all.

As I sank by
the weight of my blunder, an angel in my life reminded me that the
power of our movement was in telling the truth, and that lying to
do the “right thing” cannot be necessarily good; furthermore, using
inappropriate means to justify an end is the State’s modus operandi. 
I like to think she’s right.  As a free people, we are continuously
put in unethical situations by those People who never ask themselves
— among other things — “Who am I, or anyone else, to deliver my
government-ordained judgment on another because I don’t agree
with their culture and personal choices?”  After all, there
could possibly be only one such Judge, and a sizable number of people
don’t believe in such a powerful concept anyway.  Perhaps it
is for this reason that we are awash in so many ambiguous and helpless
conditions?

Honestly, I
don’t know what I would do if ever resummoned by His Majesty’s Court.
At the moment I’m leaning toward tossing their orders in the government-provided
recycling bin. Maybe you should too.

October
20, 2010

Andrew
Ward [send him mail]
opposes the machine because it destroys liberty. He lives and works
in Virginia.

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