Trouble And Strife

While I was listening to the podcast Serial, I was surprised by Sarah Koenig saying at one point that a jury should have acquitted the defendant Adnan Syed on a point of law.

It was interesting to me because the point of a jury in England and Wales is nothing to do with the actual law.  All that sort of stuff is up to the barristers, solicitors and judges.  They are the brains of the operation, while the jury are the heart, soul and conscience.

However obvious the decision needs to be, a jury can still acquit a defendant even the case against them is watertight.  They are guilty.

So it was interesting last week to hear the case of Larry Ripple from Kansas.  He walked in to a bank on Friday afternoon and handed a staff member a note saying: “I have a gun, give me money.”

The cashier gave him just under £3000 which he took, and wandered over to the lobby of the bank and took a seat.  Shortly after he was in custody after telling the security guard “I’m the guy you’re looking for.”

Apparently Ripple had an argument with his wife in which he said that he would rather be in jail than be with her.

U.S. Magistrate Judge David Waxse mercilessly released Ripple from prison and sent him home.

It’s sometimes refreshing to see people use common sense to apply the spirit of the law rather than just its letter.

Sheila, She’s a dealer,
Dropped off in a blue three wheeler,
Shaves her leg…
With a tater peeler,
Sheila had a dealer.

Hard life, born in a puddle,
Wrong game led her into trouble,
Now she’s locked in a cage,
She’s lower than rage,
Down from a high phase.

Billy, Billy’s uncle,
Went away, got lost in the jungle,
All he can say,
We may find him some day,
We may meet him some day.

In a tribe, on a keyring,
Shrunk his head them shrinkers feed,
They suck on his bones,
They won’t leave him alone,
Billy’s uncle’s alone.

Painting pictures of life,
Caught in a strife,
Caught in a strife.
Painting pictures of life,
Caught in a strife,
Caught in a strife.

In a strife,
In a stri-ife,
Strife, strife, strife, strife, strife, strife, strife.

From the park, to the station,
Young boy lets out his frustration,
With a pen, again and again,
It’s in marker pen.

It says, was ‘ere,
95, 96, 7, 8, 99,
Now he’s doin’ some time,
He’s doin’ some time.

Painting pictures of life,
Caught in a strife,
Caught in a strife.
Painting pictures of life,
Caught in a strife,
Caught in a strife.

Now no one knows any better,
Yeah yeah yeah
You wrote the words in the letter,
Now no one knows any better,
Yeah yeah yeah
I wrote the words in the letter.

Henry, sells junk,
Candles, Lampshades to air rifles,
But he don’t know, where they will all go,
The antiques roadshow, maybe.

Someday, tranna make some money,
Mr. Monaco thought Henry was funny,
Henry don’t lie,
So he shoots him in the eye,
There are bullets in your eyes!

Painting pictures of life,
Caught in a strife,
Caught in a strife.
Painting pictures of life,
Caught in a strife,
Caught in a strife.

Painting pictures of life,
Caught in a strife,
Caught in a stri-i-i-ife.
Painting pictures of life,
Caught in a strife,
Caught in a strife.

Strife by Twisted Wheel

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