From a correspondent:
If the odds of innocence are similar to USA then the figure of 2-5% in
NZ represents 160-400 people that may well be innocent of the crimes
they are currently incarcerated for..
http://www.nzherald.co.nz/justice-system/news/article.cfm?c_id=240&objectid=10757045
Even at the lower figure, and halved ,could be a good indication that on any day 40 nzers are being held under a Miscarriage of Justice. In this year alone there was recognition by the authorities of at least four men falsely imprisoned and since released, so around 10% of that lower divided total. At least part of the shortfall in NZ is made up of prisoners who admit crimes they haven't committed, either under pressure from gang or crime associates, or the police. Similarly, in other cases the police using 'mopping up' charges - being those that strike a deal to plead to crimes they didn't commit in order to escape heavier punishment on crimes they did commit. Probably more interesting are the formerly mentioned - those who admit crimes they haven't committed either from pressure from gang or crime associates. This being the one area of law where the adage the 'ends justify the means' is employed by both the criminals and the police to the same end at the same time. One example of this could be the Burdett case (quoting from memory here) where a man is serving life imprisonment for the rape and murder of this woman despite DNA showing the semen of Rewa, a convicted multiple rapist, having been sampled from the deceased body.
Some readers will recall when there might be unsolved very public crimes suspected of underworld figures a tactic is often employed by the police and leaked to the media that other 'heavies' are upset with all the police 'heat' and are considering taking the 'law' into their own hands so as to be able to get back to business. How much of that is true is debatable but it shows at the very least the police admitting that both 'sides' might apply, or be encouraged to apply, someone to come forward and fess up, or a stoolie to drop someone else in it so that normal routines are resumed. This is a very grey, unsavoury area of policing that is passed its used by date. It is from these exercises of 'intelligence' gathering that result in unsafe convictions on the basis of deals done between crims and police. This situation as recorded in earlier blogs here is all but too common in NZ and a frequent factor in Miscarriages of Justice in NZ.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
The accquittal of Amanda Knox underlies the tragedy of the execution of Troy Davis.
Almost two weeks after the State of Georgia executed Troy Davis, Amanda Knox walks free from an Italian Court acquitted of murder for which she has been imprisoned for 4 years. The case against Knox appears to have fallen apart as the stark result of Court ordered tests on DNA evidence, some of which had been miraculously found weeks after earlier searches and which was most recently determined by the Court appointed scientists to be unreliable and unsafe in determining Knox's guilt.
On the other hand the case against Troy Davis had in part relied upon 11 witnesses 9 of whom later recanted. From what I have read some of points on appeal were rejected because he hadn't raised them earlier when he hadn't known about them. Additionally, since his conviction a law had been passed which sought to 'expediate' the appeal progress and which contained other provisions to enhance laws dealing with terrorism. None of the new laws successfully answered questions arising from witnesses later admitting that they had wrongfully identified Davis as the shooter, that another man had admitted to others that he was in fact the killer, or that some members of the Jury have said they changed their minds about his guilt.
I don't know enough of the details of the claim that another man had admitted the crime to other persons to comment about it one way or another, although certainly with a man's life at stake it was of critical importance. However, what I do know is that the 9 of 11 witnesses who recanted was significant beyond all proportion not to have added weight on the innocence of Troy Davis. Witnesses do not lightly recant, they can face prosecution for doing so - probably of more concern to them is that they can face the wrath of the Police for no longer being compliant in a set-up. Because a set-up often relies upon an accused friends to spill the beans on him or her whether they're guilty or not, and the motive never is anything more than the advantage that the witness might gain. We've had here in NZ at least one recent case where a compliant witness was actually the murderer and many others where the witnesses have been made secret payments and had charges dropped for telling the 'truth.' A 'truth' which unfortunately ultimately is used against somebody the police 'want' to have found guilty of a crime for which they have already been charged or are anticipated to be charged.
These witnesses by their nature don't easily recant. That 9 recanted in one case against Troy Davis defies comprehension that the evidence of his 'guilt' was not all but destroyed, or that it should at the very least have returned to a retrial. But the State of Georgia needed to kill Troy Davis and that might the real truth of the matter. That he died because in part of because of legislation that sought to expedite executions, also exercised provisions that the fact a condemned man was responsible for not knowing something at an earlier point in time was no reason not to kill him. That those laws, were in part much like our own surveillance laws, designed as tools in the fight against terrorism, betray that part of their real intention is to undermine checks and balances in the Prosecution of Justice in everyday law.
And where does terrorism lie when a man can have the evidence of 9 important witnesses against him disregarded for the convenience of the free State whom wishes to takes his life as an Judicial expedient. Also, what free State values so little the lives of its citizens that it designs laws that allow the 'legal' killing of not only the presumed guilty but also the presumed innocent in a single mix. If substantial ingredients of a prosecution fail, the entire prosecution fails, at the very least promotes the difference of a 'fair' trial where an earlier one is shown as corrupt, or changed in some substantial way. If a presumption of guilt is removed, only one thing remains in a free land - a presumption of innocence.
So now as Amanda Fox flys home to a land where the just days ago Troy Davis was killed, she may appreciate more than most a country or countries that do not sanction the taking of life, and which do not assume the corrupt power of an ancient Caesar to cast a thumb either up or down in a fickle decision over the life of others, countrymen or not.
On the other hand the case against Troy Davis had in part relied upon 11 witnesses 9 of whom later recanted. From what I have read some of points on appeal were rejected because he hadn't raised them earlier when he hadn't known about them. Additionally, since his conviction a law had been passed which sought to 'expediate' the appeal progress and which contained other provisions to enhance laws dealing with terrorism. None of the new laws successfully answered questions arising from witnesses later admitting that they had wrongfully identified Davis as the shooter, that another man had admitted to others that he was in fact the killer, or that some members of the Jury have said they changed their minds about his guilt.
I don't know enough of the details of the claim that another man had admitted the crime to other persons to comment about it one way or another, although certainly with a man's life at stake it was of critical importance. However, what I do know is that the 9 of 11 witnesses who recanted was significant beyond all proportion not to have added weight on the innocence of Troy Davis. Witnesses do not lightly recant, they can face prosecution for doing so - probably of more concern to them is that they can face the wrath of the Police for no longer being compliant in a set-up. Because a set-up often relies upon an accused friends to spill the beans on him or her whether they're guilty or not, and the motive never is anything more than the advantage that the witness might gain. We've had here in NZ at least one recent case where a compliant witness was actually the murderer and many others where the witnesses have been made secret payments and had charges dropped for telling the 'truth.' A 'truth' which unfortunately ultimately is used against somebody the police 'want' to have found guilty of a crime for which they have already been charged or are anticipated to be charged.
These witnesses by their nature don't easily recant. That 9 recanted in one case against Troy Davis defies comprehension that the evidence of his 'guilt' was not all but destroyed, or that it should at the very least have returned to a retrial. But the State of Georgia needed to kill Troy Davis and that might the real truth of the matter. That he died because in part of because of legislation that sought to expedite executions, also exercised provisions that the fact a condemned man was responsible for not knowing something at an earlier point in time was no reason not to kill him. That those laws, were in part much like our own surveillance laws, designed as tools in the fight against terrorism, betray that part of their real intention is to undermine checks and balances in the Prosecution of Justice in everyday law.
And where does terrorism lie when a man can have the evidence of 9 important witnesses against him disregarded for the convenience of the free State whom wishes to takes his life as an Judicial expedient. Also, what free State values so little the lives of its citizens that it designs laws that allow the 'legal' killing of not only the presumed guilty but also the presumed innocent in a single mix. If substantial ingredients of a prosecution fail, the entire prosecution fails, at the very least promotes the difference of a 'fair' trial where an earlier one is shown as corrupt, or changed in some substantial way. If a presumption of guilt is removed, only one thing remains in a free land - a presumption of innocence.
So now as Amanda Fox flys home to a land where the just days ago Troy Davis was killed, she may appreciate more than most a country or countries that do not sanction the taking of life, and which do not assume the corrupt power of an ancient Caesar to cast a thumb either up or down in a fickle decision over the life of others, countrymen or not.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Kent Parker - the rise and fall of a hate-siter.
Kent Parker is an interesting, if rare bird, on the NZ landscape, most particularly because of his abortive attempt to use cyber-space in a novel way, for New Zealand, - to begin hate-sites and hate campaigns. But probably the most fascinating aspect of his failed attempt is that it ought to have been obvious to him and his followers that they were bound for failure. There are a number of reasons for this.
1/That he didn't understand the medium (cyber-space) he used.
2/That he was impetuous and driven by something other than that which he claimed was motivating his campaign. In other words he was insincere and sought to take advantage of others, many of whom were sincere if but also misguided.
3/He didn't know his subject and paid no critical analysis of 'information' supplied to him.
4/He has no ability to think on his feet or change a position, he becomes angry if there is any suggestion that he might be wrong.
5/He became obsessed with Joe Karam in particular to the point where he showing a type of bizarre jealousy.
The above in more detail
1/Kent thought that defaming or stalking people on line had no possible consequence. He clearly misunderstood that despite the word 'space' cyber-space was contained by international borders and law, where words written in 'space' landed and any relay points along the way were in fact all culpable under the law. He has consistently failed to understand this and even in recent pleadings to the High Court displayed the incapacity to follow that he was a publisher no different from a publisher in print media, he claimed that he couldn't take material of his own sites without approval of members of his site. Not only has he demonstrated that he is responsible for what he has published he also failed to realise his culpability in providing a site where he and others conspired to commit crimes contravening the Crimes Act.
2/The fact that Kent's insincerity was lost on many of his followers for some time provided him the opportunity to capitalise on the sincere anxiety of his followers so that he was able to meld them to his cause - himself. He may or may not have realised that the less 'enlightened' of his followers saw Kent's willingness to 'go public,' have a website and so forth, as legitimising things which were morally wrong and in many cases illegal. It's hard to blame the weaker minded individuals that were attracted to Parker because he empowered them, encouraged them in the belief that they were the 'only' ones that saw the truth and that those that did not were 'outsiders' an enemy.
3/Because Kent didn't know his subject and accepted whatever suited the cause, and rejected what did not, he further disadvantaged those that were acting on a 'gut feeling,' what somebody told them, 'facts' that existed no where accept in their minds and the minds of those that had provided them. For example, it was almost 18 months before Kent's group finally understood that Bain had been 'strip searched' and (perhaps) the significance of that. Most people would need the information that he wasn't searched before claiming that and hanging their hats on such a 'fact.' Their campaign was riddled with misinformation and speculation heightened by 'information' leaked to them from various sources, in many ways they were pawns, and Kent in turn, was a pawn of others, but so arrogant he is he would be unable to even consider that. Put succinctly, Parker went to 'war' with no understanding of the war and instead saw what the spoils of war might offer him and paid no regard or reservation on doing the research before reaching an opinion, in fact he worked backwards - much like the police inquiry, decided who it was then 'found' the 'right' evidence and ignored contrary evidence.
4/Parker is unable to think on his feet. The times when he has made a change have most often resulted in him back-tracking to where he was originally placed, most often these have been attended by Kent re-inventing the wheel, re-convincing himself of something and expecting others to follow. The various flip-flops in his defence to the defamation charges show this, particularly his recent attempt to have the pleadings struck out with such things, as that mentioned above. that he 'couldn't' removed defamatory material without a 'consensus' of members - many of whom it is obvious have long since headed for the hills.
5/Kent's obsession with Karam is obvious and only requires the comment that it is far from Kent's proclamations about 'victims,' his attempts to become a musician, politician, court the media etc belie his true cause, himself.
All of which Kent now sees as his predicament of; 'The People vs Joe Karam.' More on that delusional 'title' later.
1/That he didn't understand the medium (cyber-space) he used.
2/That he was impetuous and driven by something other than that which he claimed was motivating his campaign. In other words he was insincere and sought to take advantage of others, many of whom were sincere if but also misguided.
3/He didn't know his subject and paid no critical analysis of 'information' supplied to him.
4/He has no ability to think on his feet or change a position, he becomes angry if there is any suggestion that he might be wrong.
5/He became obsessed with Joe Karam in particular to the point where he showing a type of bizarre jealousy.
The above in more detail
1/Kent thought that defaming or stalking people on line had no possible consequence. He clearly misunderstood that despite the word 'space' cyber-space was contained by international borders and law, where words written in 'space' landed and any relay points along the way were in fact all culpable under the law. He has consistently failed to understand this and even in recent pleadings to the High Court displayed the incapacity to follow that he was a publisher no different from a publisher in print media, he claimed that he couldn't take material of his own sites without approval of members of his site. Not only has he demonstrated that he is responsible for what he has published he also failed to realise his culpability in providing a site where he and others conspired to commit crimes contravening the Crimes Act.
2/The fact that Kent's insincerity was lost on many of his followers for some time provided him the opportunity to capitalise on the sincere anxiety of his followers so that he was able to meld them to his cause - himself. He may or may not have realised that the less 'enlightened' of his followers saw Kent's willingness to 'go public,' have a website and so forth, as legitimising things which were morally wrong and in many cases illegal. It's hard to blame the weaker minded individuals that were attracted to Parker because he empowered them, encouraged them in the belief that they were the 'only' ones that saw the truth and that those that did not were 'outsiders' an enemy.
3/Because Kent didn't know his subject and accepted whatever suited the cause, and rejected what did not, he further disadvantaged those that were acting on a 'gut feeling,' what somebody told them, 'facts' that existed no where accept in their minds and the minds of those that had provided them. For example, it was almost 18 months before Kent's group finally understood that Bain had been 'strip searched' and (perhaps) the significance of that. Most people would need the information that he wasn't searched before claiming that and hanging their hats on such a 'fact.' Their campaign was riddled with misinformation and speculation heightened by 'information' leaked to them from various sources, in many ways they were pawns, and Kent in turn, was a pawn of others, but so arrogant he is he would be unable to even consider that. Put succinctly, Parker went to 'war' with no understanding of the war and instead saw what the spoils of war might offer him and paid no regard or reservation on doing the research before reaching an opinion, in fact he worked backwards - much like the police inquiry, decided who it was then 'found' the 'right' evidence and ignored contrary evidence.
4/Parker is unable to think on his feet. The times when he has made a change have most often resulted in him back-tracking to where he was originally placed, most often these have been attended by Kent re-inventing the wheel, re-convincing himself of something and expecting others to follow. The various flip-flops in his defence to the defamation charges show this, particularly his recent attempt to have the pleadings struck out with such things, as that mentioned above. that he 'couldn't' removed defamatory material without a 'consensus' of members - many of whom it is obvious have long since headed for the hills.
5/Kent's obsession with Karam is obvious and only requires the comment that it is far from Kent's proclamations about 'victims,' his attempts to become a musician, politician, court the media etc belie his true cause, himself.
All of which Kent now sees as his predicament of; 'The People vs Joe Karam.' More on that delusional 'title' later.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Oh look, Kent Parker is begging, again.
Cut it out Kent. I know things are tough and you probably have orders for $60,000 or more against you for preliminary costs for proving to the High Court what a dickhead you are, but there's no need to beg. Man up will ya and do the arithmetic. You claim your hate-site has 600 members and you're asking them to give $10 each so that you can get a lawyer, that's after you've said that you already have a lawyer. But the truth is Kent you need to find 6,000 morons to give you $10 each to pay costs before you can employ a lawyer to defend you and Purkiss for stalking and defaming honest nzers.
Tell the truth Kent, get over yourself. People generally don't rate morons on a scale and your attempts to prove you're the biggest moron that ever got his sorry arse sued for being a dick are unlikely to encourage anyone to open their wallets, even from pity, in your futile attempt to evade the law. Toughen up Kent. You were willing to lie and distort the truth in order to harm real people, prepared to actively encourage idiots to threaten and stalk other nzers who rejected an innocent man being imprisoned by rumour and lies, and now you beg for help?
You, and the idiot Purkiss, who wrote messages on items of fruit in Coromandel stores, in order to poisen others, aren't the 'People' called nzers, you are law-breaking rejects, dangerous psychopathic idiots that chose to ride a wave that might bring you fame at the expense of truth. I didn't expect you or Purkiss to have any backbone Parker, and I was right. You are a gutless liar who now trys to extort money out of other nzers to pay for the lawbreaking of you and a few motley others. You don't have 600 members to your rotten hate-sites, you barely have 6. Not only is science, logic, forensic and common sense against you Kent but also opinion that you kicked others when you thought they were down, and now when the hens have come home to roost you beg and flounder like a gutless coward.
Toughen up for sake of your family, don't let them see you prostitute yourself when the fire you directed at others you thought were down, is returned. Grow some gonads, I hear there is some cheap potting mix on sale that could help your endeavour to become a man willing to fight when the chips are down. You chose what you thought were easy targets Parker, and now those targets dine on your cowardice and weakness. Have you no backbone at all? Tonight would be a good night to send your 'followers' after me and I will return them packaged with $10 notes stuck will coconut oil to their foreheads and garlands of flowers hiding their depleted bosom so that you will finally understand that your hate has consumed you and your dreams are ghosts.
Tell the truth Kent, get over yourself. People generally don't rate morons on a scale and your attempts to prove you're the biggest moron that ever got his sorry arse sued for being a dick are unlikely to encourage anyone to open their wallets, even from pity, in your futile attempt to evade the law. Toughen up Kent. You were willing to lie and distort the truth in order to harm real people, prepared to actively encourage idiots to threaten and stalk other nzers who rejected an innocent man being imprisoned by rumour and lies, and now you beg for help?
You, and the idiot Purkiss, who wrote messages on items of fruit in Coromandel stores, in order to poisen others, aren't the 'People' called nzers, you are law-breaking rejects, dangerous psychopathic idiots that chose to ride a wave that might bring you fame at the expense of truth. I didn't expect you or Purkiss to have any backbone Parker, and I was right. You are a gutless liar who now trys to extort money out of other nzers to pay for the lawbreaking of you and a few motley others. You don't have 600 members to your rotten hate-sites, you barely have 6. Not only is science, logic, forensic and common sense against you Kent but also opinion that you kicked others when you thought they were down, and now when the hens have come home to roost you beg and flounder like a gutless coward.
Toughen up for sake of your family, don't let them see you prostitute yourself when the fire you directed at others you thought were down, is returned. Grow some gonads, I hear there is some cheap potting mix on sale that could help your endeavour to become a man willing to fight when the chips are down. You chose what you thought were easy targets Parker, and now those targets dine on your cowardice and weakness. Have you no backbone at all? Tonight would be a good night to send your 'followers' after me and I will return them packaged with $10 notes stuck will coconut oil to their foreheads and garlands of flowers hiding their depleted bosom so that you will finally understand that your hate has consumed you and your dreams are ghosts.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Henry Went Last Night
Alex was wrenched from sleep by the sound of grinding metal and stretching cables as a cell close by was unlocked. Someone dead. He climbed quickly from his small steel bed and listened. There were muffled voices, a distant drum built to a closer rattle. He knew it was the trolley coming along the landing, the death trolley.
He told himself that Henry wasn't dead. That he'd just over-dosed on his saved up gas, or fainted, or cut his wrists or face again. Scarred and cut himself. Alex hoped that it was that, not death. Conversations grew in the morning quiet, he dragged on his jeans and socks.
Warder Rex Stuart appeared at Alex's grill, his eyes and face downcast. Alex walked closer to the bars.
"Henry went last night,' Rex told him in a whisper.
"Hung?"
"Yes," said Rex and moved away.
It was all real now, not kept away by defending thought. Henry was dead, the smiling young Maori was gone. Alex walked the few short feet to the back of his cell to distance himself from the activity in Henry's cell next door - the cutting down of the body. He heard Henry being laid out on the trolley in a rattle of noise, then the trolley wheeling away.
"Jesus, that's all I need," came Adrian's voice from the southern end of the landing as the body was rolled past his cell.
"It's the friggen sugar," yelled Monty, closer on the northern side.
Alex knew that Monty was talking to him. "Can't blame anyone," he said softly, sitting on the bed now with his back against the cold block wall.
"He's gone Alex," called Adrian.
"You were always frigging hassling him Alex," accused Monty. "Never give any bastard a break."
"Turn it up," said Alex.
"He's gone Alex," came Adrian's voice again.
"Always picking on him," claimed Monty.
"Listen mate," Alex told him. "The guy was psychotic and on heavy drugs, could be anything. No use blaming each other."
"He's gone Alex," called Adrian. He just needed to tell Alex and then things would be all right.
"Yea, right Adrian," Alex called. They all fell silent then.
A little later breakfast came, rolled on wheels. It seemed unreal to Alex that breakfast came. Henry was dead, just cut down and breakfast came. He usually ate his breakfast in a rush then went back to sleep. This morning he ate no breakfast and did not sleep. The morning light was grey. Unlock came and Alex's steel door was cranked open.
"I won't be long mister, I'm having a shave!" he called, stepping from the cell and calling along the narrow landing from where the warder waved an acknowledgement from the landing grill.
Out to the east, through concrete-barred windows, there was a view of grass. Further over a fortified sentry tower held the ground between two perimeter fences, a road ran the outer fence line. On the far side of the road there was the prison boiler house burning coal, here and there about there were solitary trees and more grass rolling up to distant hills, crops and belts of trees, farmer's houses and part of an orchard seen in the distance. But there was no mark on the landscape that drew the mind, nothing comforting or reassuring. Not a familiar clock tower, stone building or grassy knoll, not a running stream or a close by mountain. No memory.
Cows crazed in the nearby paddocks. Closer, there were noisy ducks on the prison grass, sparrows and seagulls, wild cats slunk in - all searching for food. Closer still men locked in. Alex threw his toast out an open window, spinning the bread in a discus flight to be fallen upon and squabbled over by the waiting birds and cats. The time was 75 minutes after the death trolley rolled by.
"Tell him to let me out!" shouted Monty, all aggressive again. Alex mumbled a reply before walking back to his cell and Monty pushed the emergency button.
"Give it a break," called Alex. "I'm just having a shave." Alex finished his shave. He wanted to shave, it just seemed right that day. He walked to the landing, stopped at Henry's cell. Hanging from the ventilation grill on the back wall was a rope fashioned from jeans, twisted and knotted with one leg cut off. It was important for Alex to look in the cell. He had not been able to bring himself to look at the body - so he looked in the cell. Timidly at first, he slowly raised his head again. He saw the body then, a handsome young man distorted and grey hanging on the wall.
It was an exorcism for the tall lean man to move silently and slowly about the landing. To face the day and the shock - he needed to stretch into it bit by bit. He walked to Monty's cell.
"No use getting all carried away," said Alex, stopping to look through Monty's grill.
Monty was moving in agitation about the cell as though also trying to shift the death away, shake it off. He was wearing jeans and a tee shirt, his arms thick with muscle. Below his dark hair, Monty's eyes were flashing coals on a long thin face.
Half turning toward Alex, Monty said, "You were always picking on him."
"No I wasn't," said Alex gently. "There is no use carrying on like that."
"That bloke over in A Block, you helped him all the time."
Alex couldn't think for the moment who it was that Monty was talking about. There had been so many floating toward death in that place, so many dead.
"All that shit about sugar," said Monty, raising an earlier argument between Alex and Henry. "You know he only had weeks to go and you argue with him about sugar."
"Don't blame me," warned Alex.
Monty looked at him straight. "I'm not blaming you," he said. "I really liked the bloke."
"I know, we all did."
"I'm just telling you, I like the bloke. I met his father up the visiting room."
"I know that," said Alex, reasonable now.
Monty seemed to want to guarantee the point. "I liked the bloke he said again."
The recitation finally upset Alex. "I don't give a stuff," he hissed.
"I'm just telling you," said Monty angrily.
Alex wrapped his hands around the grill to Monty's cell, the closest he good get, his knuckles paled whiter. "I don't give a stuff," he said. "Come out to the workshop and we will talk about it."
Seeing Alex properly upset seemed to calm Monty. Henry was dead and Alex was angry.
With that, Alex said he would see him when he came out. He walked along the landing to the security grill.
"Morning Adrian," he said, passing Adrian's cell. "We'll be right."
"Gidday Alex, I'm staying in today," he said quietly.
When he reached the southern end Alex stopped at the Bulgarians cell. He stopped to look in to see how he was, what he would be making of this kiwi breakfast. "Morning Sid."
The short muscular man raised a hand to his cropped hair. "You going to the workshops?" he asked.
"Yea."
"I'm coming too, we'll do a workout."
They always did workouts together but Alex had forgotten that morning. "Okay," he agreed, though he didn't much have the stomach for it. He moved on. A warder opened the landing grill and Alex stepped through. There were 4 warders and one lightly rubbed him down for weapons. Alex walked to the western side of the cell block through a small sally port into the little workshop and a few minutes to himself to think about the death.
One side of the workshop was a grill set on concrete blocks. There were posters around the walls and steel table bolted to the floor. On the western side a partition of concrete block housed a toilet and divided the maximum-security workshop narrowly in two. In the northern half was a television locked to a frame on the wall, in the other corner a radio built into the block.
Soon the Bulgarian army deserter arrived, his face expressionless.
"You know about Henry?" asked Alex.
"Yes," he said abruptly.
They worked out hard in competition against some errant thought. Chin-ups with a 30lb bag of sand tied around their waists, dips between cane weaving tables, push up with sandbags on their backs with feet up on a chair, sweating and straining. They took off their shirts to reveal muscle glistening in sweat before doing sit ups and curls with the sandbags. They finished with sparring, perhaps longing for the taste of blood in the mouth from a let-through punch. Then the workout was done and over with.
Monty came to the workshop. Quiet now, bringing the strength that had helped him survive years in Paremoremo. News came over the radio about the death in D Block.
"They're onto it quick," said Monty.
During the day visitors at the grill to talk to the men, social workers, priests, senior staff all sharing in the loss in some way or other. The news had spread around the prison. Men with families thought of their kin, those without families may have wished for one. But in the workshop Alex had to fix a restraint in his mind to prevent himself from seeing Henry walk by one last time with his cheeky, knowing smile. Alex needed to resist the thought that Henry was being cut up. Not just buried but drawn and dissected in autopsy. There would be no funeral for them to attend. Even Henry's cell would no longer be his, the few small belongings gathered up and sent home to his father in the South Island with the cut up body surrendered back by his keepers.
Others around the prison would be despising Henry for his weakness on a ship they all sailed, perhaps laugh about it. Some would think of it by comparison that they were at least better off than Henry. Some might even be fascinated and buoyed by the news, think they could perhaps do the same and escape the dry rotting death. Others could be frightened but all would be circumspect, reminded how close death was to the concrete pit which ducks flocked around to feed and where men lived with no real memory.
Late in afternoon, after the return to the cell block for lunch and the opportunity to go to the workshops again, a voice rose, rich resonant and soulful - echoing into every corner of D Block and the earth below where it was rumoured battles had been fought and men killed. A voice that somehow lifted the chill beset from the morning. A Tohunga sang a calming prayer in Henry's cell, that his spirit might lift away and not add to the misery of the haunted men held there.
Back out on the cell landing just before final lock down came Monty was out picking up the dinner plates. He stopped to talk to Alex.
"I should have given him his tea last night," he said. "Woken him up when I was out picking up the plates. I threw some socks at him. It could have been that," he suggested.
Alex shook his head sadly because the day had been long and dispiriting. "No mate, you can't look at it like that."
"Bill too," continued Monty. "He was joking with him last night, it could have been that."
"No mate, it's no one's fault," said Alex, but he didn't know. "It's just this place, guys like Henry shouldn't be here, maybe none of us should. It can get to you, but it's much worse for blokes like him. They should be in a hospital somewhere, or sent home to their old people. You don't put a mixed-up kid in a place like this.
Monty sighed, deciding that perhaps it wasn't the chocolates he won off Henry at poker the previous afternoon.
He told himself that Henry wasn't dead. That he'd just over-dosed on his saved up gas, or fainted, or cut his wrists or face again. Scarred and cut himself. Alex hoped that it was that, not death. Conversations grew in the morning quiet, he dragged on his jeans and socks.
Warder Rex Stuart appeared at Alex's grill, his eyes and face downcast. Alex walked closer to the bars.
"Henry went last night,' Rex told him in a whisper.
"Hung?"
"Yes," said Rex and moved away.
It was all real now, not kept away by defending thought. Henry was dead, the smiling young Maori was gone. Alex walked the few short feet to the back of his cell to distance himself from the activity in Henry's cell next door - the cutting down of the body. He heard Henry being laid out on the trolley in a rattle of noise, then the trolley wheeling away.
"Jesus, that's all I need," came Adrian's voice from the southern end of the landing as the body was rolled past his cell.
"It's the friggen sugar," yelled Monty, closer on the northern side.
Alex knew that Monty was talking to him. "Can't blame anyone," he said softly, sitting on the bed now with his back against the cold block wall.
"He's gone Alex," called Adrian.
"You were always frigging hassling him Alex," accused Monty. "Never give any bastard a break."
"Turn it up," said Alex.
"He's gone Alex," came Adrian's voice again.
"Always picking on him," claimed Monty.
"Listen mate," Alex told him. "The guy was psychotic and on heavy drugs, could be anything. No use blaming each other."
"He's gone Alex," called Adrian. He just needed to tell Alex and then things would be all right.
"Yea, right Adrian," Alex called. They all fell silent then.
A little later breakfast came, rolled on wheels. It seemed unreal to Alex that breakfast came. Henry was dead, just cut down and breakfast came. He usually ate his breakfast in a rush then went back to sleep. This morning he ate no breakfast and did not sleep. The morning light was grey. Unlock came and Alex's steel door was cranked open.
"I won't be long mister, I'm having a shave!" he called, stepping from the cell and calling along the narrow landing from where the warder waved an acknowledgement from the landing grill.
Out to the east, through concrete-barred windows, there was a view of grass. Further over a fortified sentry tower held the ground between two perimeter fences, a road ran the outer fence line. On the far side of the road there was the prison boiler house burning coal, here and there about there were solitary trees and more grass rolling up to distant hills, crops and belts of trees, farmer's houses and part of an orchard seen in the distance. But there was no mark on the landscape that drew the mind, nothing comforting or reassuring. Not a familiar clock tower, stone building or grassy knoll, not a running stream or a close by mountain. No memory.
Cows crazed in the nearby paddocks. Closer, there were noisy ducks on the prison grass, sparrows and seagulls, wild cats slunk in - all searching for food. Closer still men locked in. Alex threw his toast out an open window, spinning the bread in a discus flight to be fallen upon and squabbled over by the waiting birds and cats. The time was 75 minutes after the death trolley rolled by.
"Tell him to let me out!" shouted Monty, all aggressive again. Alex mumbled a reply before walking back to his cell and Monty pushed the emergency button.
"Give it a break," called Alex. "I'm just having a shave." Alex finished his shave. He wanted to shave, it just seemed right that day. He walked to the landing, stopped at Henry's cell. Hanging from the ventilation grill on the back wall was a rope fashioned from jeans, twisted and knotted with one leg cut off. It was important for Alex to look in the cell. He had not been able to bring himself to look at the body - so he looked in the cell. Timidly at first, he slowly raised his head again. He saw the body then, a handsome young man distorted and grey hanging on the wall.
It was an exorcism for the tall lean man to move silently and slowly about the landing. To face the day and the shock - he needed to stretch into it bit by bit. He walked to Monty's cell.
"No use getting all carried away," said Alex, stopping to look through Monty's grill.
Monty was moving in agitation about the cell as though also trying to shift the death away, shake it off. He was wearing jeans and a tee shirt, his arms thick with muscle. Below his dark hair, Monty's eyes were flashing coals on a long thin face.
Half turning toward Alex, Monty said, "You were always picking on him."
"No I wasn't," said Alex gently. "There is no use carrying on like that."
"That bloke over in A Block, you helped him all the time."
Alex couldn't think for the moment who it was that Monty was talking about. There had been so many floating toward death in that place, so many dead.
"All that shit about sugar," said Monty, raising an earlier argument between Alex and Henry. "You know he only had weeks to go and you argue with him about sugar."
"Don't blame me," warned Alex.
Monty looked at him straight. "I'm not blaming you," he said. "I really liked the bloke."
"I know, we all did."
"I'm just telling you, I like the bloke. I met his father up the visiting room."
"I know that," said Alex, reasonable now.
Monty seemed to want to guarantee the point. "I liked the bloke he said again."
The recitation finally upset Alex. "I don't give a stuff," he hissed.
"I'm just telling you," said Monty angrily.
Alex wrapped his hands around the grill to Monty's cell, the closest he good get, his knuckles paled whiter. "I don't give a stuff," he said. "Come out to the workshop and we will talk about it."
Seeing Alex properly upset seemed to calm Monty. Henry was dead and Alex was angry.
With that, Alex said he would see him when he came out. He walked along the landing to the security grill.
"Morning Adrian," he said, passing Adrian's cell. "We'll be right."
"Gidday Alex, I'm staying in today," he said quietly.
When he reached the southern end Alex stopped at the Bulgarians cell. He stopped to look in to see how he was, what he would be making of this kiwi breakfast. "Morning Sid."
The short muscular man raised a hand to his cropped hair. "You going to the workshops?" he asked.
"Yea."
"I'm coming too, we'll do a workout."
They always did workouts together but Alex had forgotten that morning. "Okay," he agreed, though he didn't much have the stomach for it. He moved on. A warder opened the landing grill and Alex stepped through. There were 4 warders and one lightly rubbed him down for weapons. Alex walked to the western side of the cell block through a small sally port into the little workshop and a few minutes to himself to think about the death.
One side of the workshop was a grill set on concrete blocks. There were posters around the walls and steel table bolted to the floor. On the western side a partition of concrete block housed a toilet and divided the maximum-security workshop narrowly in two. In the northern half was a television locked to a frame on the wall, in the other corner a radio built into the block.
Soon the Bulgarian army deserter arrived, his face expressionless.
"You know about Henry?" asked Alex.
"Yes," he said abruptly.
They worked out hard in competition against some errant thought. Chin-ups with a 30lb bag of sand tied around their waists, dips between cane weaving tables, push up with sandbags on their backs with feet up on a chair, sweating and straining. They took off their shirts to reveal muscle glistening in sweat before doing sit ups and curls with the sandbags. They finished with sparring, perhaps longing for the taste of blood in the mouth from a let-through punch. Then the workout was done and over with.
Monty came to the workshop. Quiet now, bringing the strength that had helped him survive years in Paremoremo. News came over the radio about the death in D Block.
"They're onto it quick," said Monty.
During the day visitors at the grill to talk to the men, social workers, priests, senior staff all sharing in the loss in some way or other. The news had spread around the prison. Men with families thought of their kin, those without families may have wished for one. But in the workshop Alex had to fix a restraint in his mind to prevent himself from seeing Henry walk by one last time with his cheeky, knowing smile. Alex needed to resist the thought that Henry was being cut up. Not just buried but drawn and dissected in autopsy. There would be no funeral for them to attend. Even Henry's cell would no longer be his, the few small belongings gathered up and sent home to his father in the South Island with the cut up body surrendered back by his keepers.
Others around the prison would be despising Henry for his weakness on a ship they all sailed, perhaps laugh about it. Some would think of it by comparison that they were at least better off than Henry. Some might even be fascinated and buoyed by the news, think they could perhaps do the same and escape the dry rotting death. Others could be frightened but all would be circumspect, reminded how close death was to the concrete pit which ducks flocked around to feed and where men lived with no real memory.
Late in afternoon, after the return to the cell block for lunch and the opportunity to go to the workshops again, a voice rose, rich resonant and soulful - echoing into every corner of D Block and the earth below where it was rumoured battles had been fought and men killed. A voice that somehow lifted the chill beset from the morning. A Tohunga sang a calming prayer in Henry's cell, that his spirit might lift away and not add to the misery of the haunted men held there.
Back out on the cell landing just before final lock down came Monty was out picking up the dinner plates. He stopped to talk to Alex.
"I should have given him his tea last night," he said. "Woken him up when I was out picking up the plates. I threw some socks at him. It could have been that," he suggested.
Alex shook his head sadly because the day had been long and dispiriting. "No mate, you can't look at it like that."
"Bill too," continued Monty. "He was joking with him last night, it could have been that."
"No mate, it's no one's fault," said Alex, but he didn't know. "It's just this place, guys like Henry shouldn't be here, maybe none of us should. It can get to you, but it's much worse for blokes like him. They should be in a hospital somewhere, or sent home to their old people. You don't put a mixed-up kid in a place like this.
Monty sighed, deciding that perhaps it wasn't the chocolates he won off Henry at poker the previous afternoon.
Terrorism or is it? .....from a correspondent
"Evidence from Detective Sergeant Aaron Pascoe was given to the
hearing that film and photographs of a September 2007 camp showed a
woman he said was Ms Morse holding an object believed to be a Molotov
cocktail.
The person carried the object out of the view of the camera and
returned a short time later without it.
Mr Pascoe was to give evidence that he believed she threw the Molotov
cocktail into an outdoor oven, where police later found remnants of
Molotov cocktails
Photos of a person holding a pistol in various military type poses
were said to be of Ms Morse.
Two pistols later seized by police were found to be unable to
discharge a shot although an attempt to modify one appeared to have
been made.
Justice Winkelmann disagreed with Ms Morse's suggestion that because
only non-firing guns were found, no functional pistols were used
Also brought to the court was a CD of gunshot sounds recorded on the
Tuhoe land in the Urewera Ranges.
Lawyers for the accused argued that the gunshot recordings could not
be played in court because they had been made by the police illegally
and had been edited"
So in overall summary one person assumed throwing a molotov cocktail
into an oven.
A photo of one person with two pistols that are not even functional.
Gunshot sounds from rifles that were found attempted by the crown to
imply the pistols were functional.
Even the judge accepted that one without a shred of evidence.
Note to police crown prosecutors and judges..
A dozen people playing simulated war games on private property does
not constitute terrorism..
Its a fantasy game much as paint ball war games are..or children
playing cowboys and indians..
Or is the truth NZ just wanted to be part of the terrorist scare..
Neither the Melbourne 12 nor Toronto 18 cases themselves involved
events that have actually taken place.
Both have prosecuted individuals for belonging to groups that have
merely planned or talked about terrorist attacks, which have been
aborted by public authorities before reaching fruition.
Authorities have learned about these plans and this talk by listening
in on “secretly recorded” conversations..
DOESNT THAT SOUND FAMILIAR..
http://www.counterweights.ca/2010/04/terrorism-%E2%80%94-and-human-rights-%E2%80%94-on-trial-melbourne-12-and-toronto-18/
hearing that film and photographs of a September 2007 camp showed a
woman he said was Ms Morse holding an object believed to be a Molotov
cocktail.
The person carried the object out of the view of the camera and
returned a short time later without it.
Mr Pascoe was to give evidence that he believed she threw the Molotov
cocktail into an outdoor oven, where police later found remnants of
Molotov cocktails
Photos of a person holding a pistol in various military type poses
were said to be of Ms Morse.
Two pistols later seized by police were found to be unable to
discharge a shot although an attempt to modify one appeared to have
been made.
Justice Winkelmann disagreed with Ms Morse's suggestion that because
only non-firing guns were found, no functional pistols were used
Also brought to the court was a CD of gunshot sounds recorded on the
Tuhoe land in the Urewera Ranges.
Lawyers for the accused argued that the gunshot recordings could not
be played in court because they had been made by the police illegally
and had been edited"
So in overall summary one person assumed throwing a molotov cocktail
into an oven.
A photo of one person with two pistols that are not even functional.
Gunshot sounds from rifles that were found attempted by the crown to
imply the pistols were functional.
Even the judge accepted that one without a shred of evidence.
Note to police crown prosecutors and judges..
A dozen people playing simulated war games on private property does
not constitute terrorism..
Its a fantasy game much as paint ball war games are..or children
playing cowboys and indians..
Or is the truth NZ just wanted to be part of the terrorist scare..
Neither the Melbourne 12 nor Toronto 18 cases themselves involved
events that have actually taken place.
Both have prosecuted individuals for belonging to groups that have
merely planned or talked about terrorist attacks, which have been
aborted by public authorities before reaching fruition.
Authorities have learned about these plans and this talk by listening
in on “secretly recorded” conversations..
DOESNT THAT SOUND FAMILIAR..
http://www.counterweights.ca/2010/04/terrorism-%E2%80%94-and-human-rights-%E2%80%94-on-trial-melbourne-12-and-toronto-18/
Saturday, September 24, 2011
More questions than answers arise from the proposed 'retrospective legislation.'
The mooted retrospective changes to cover flaws in surveillance laws are in danger of raising even more concerns about the power of legislators to change laws to trap those that would otherwise go free in a democracy. The changes, we are told, are required because otherwise some serious criminals already on charges might go free. That in itself is a breach of freedoms, the changing of the law is not to 'catch' terrorists that might otherwise go free, in fact the 'broken' law was used 'reckless(ly) as to whether their (the police) actions were lawful or they carried out covert surveillance knowing that it was unlawful.'
In the scheme of things the Tuhoe raids were against what we were told were terrorists attended with a 'trust us' type attitude of investigators who leaked information that might have made some nzers feel that indeed terrorism was a present danger in NZ. Since then the Supreme Court has dismissed evidence against 13 of those arrested because the evidence to be used against them was unlawfully obtained and did rise above the necessarily high threshold of its value, or that of the public interest, that might have allowed the Court to use it's discretion to admit the evidence despite it's unlawful collection.
One thing we can be sure of is that the Courts rightly would have admitted the evidence if it stood as absolute proof of acts of terrorism, there is no doubt about that. Something else that 'waters' down the value of the evidence being far less than proof of terrorism is that the Government don't seek to include the 13 former 'terrorists' in the net of the proposed retrospective legislation. Suddenly what is revealed is that 'anonymous' dangerous criminals, ostensibly more dangerous than terrorists for whom laws have been melded to catch, are not the 'prize' after all. The prize is in fact is another 'trust me' objective, an unknown number of alleged offenders, on an unknown number of charges and of who there is no indication that other evidence lawfully obtained against them is not enough for prosecutions, we are asked to trust that there is not sufficient other evidence apart from that unlawfully obtained. Additionally, the legislators express no faith in the Courts to apply a test to the necessary evidence against these mystery individuals, to determine whether it might be admitted despite the manner of its collection.
So we move from one darkness to another, terrorists become terrorists no more and the new bogey man is unknown but dangerous. So dangerous in fact that he, she or they are elevated above the primary concern of the lawmakers - those who might reduce the country to anarchy, civil war and acts of terrorism. So we are asked to move from one frightening beast (suddenly made docile) to another without hesitation that the public might not say 'hold on, what about all that other bs?' and instead swallow was is in fact an erosion of their freedom.
Where might this take us? To secret lawmaking for sure, also to retrospective lawmaking on the basis of false pretence where retrospective lawmaking becomes the norm to a time when faith in the law might be reduced overnight in Parliament on grounds we are not availed to and which are not subject to public notification, submissions and debate - a type of executive power gone mad.
Other questions arise, the 13 now rendered harmless 'terrorists,' were held on illegally gathered evidence, surely they should be compensated as of right because lawful detention, restraint or imprisonment cannot be on the basis on an unlawful act by the authorities. Additionally, sceptical as I may be - why do some of their number remain on charges that will not be heard until after the election, also when does the discretion to dismiss charges that are not heard in a timely manner get exercised?
Time for calmness to prevail, because the lawmakers have failed there should not be haste exercised in remedying the law, certainly not retrospectively and certainly not on a 'trust me' basis that has already once failed.
In the scheme of things the Tuhoe raids were against what we were told were terrorists attended with a 'trust us' type attitude of investigators who leaked information that might have made some nzers feel that indeed terrorism was a present danger in NZ. Since then the Supreme Court has dismissed evidence against 13 of those arrested because the evidence to be used against them was unlawfully obtained and did rise above the necessarily high threshold of its value, or that of the public interest, that might have allowed the Court to use it's discretion to admit the evidence despite it's unlawful collection.
One thing we can be sure of is that the Courts rightly would have admitted the evidence if it stood as absolute proof of acts of terrorism, there is no doubt about that. Something else that 'waters' down the value of the evidence being far less than proof of terrorism is that the Government don't seek to include the 13 former 'terrorists' in the net of the proposed retrospective legislation. Suddenly what is revealed is that 'anonymous' dangerous criminals, ostensibly more dangerous than terrorists for whom laws have been melded to catch, are not the 'prize' after all. The prize is in fact is another 'trust me' objective, an unknown number of alleged offenders, on an unknown number of charges and of who there is no indication that other evidence lawfully obtained against them is not enough for prosecutions, we are asked to trust that there is not sufficient other evidence apart from that unlawfully obtained. Additionally, the legislators express no faith in the Courts to apply a test to the necessary evidence against these mystery individuals, to determine whether it might be admitted despite the manner of its collection.
So we move from one darkness to another, terrorists become terrorists no more and the new bogey man is unknown but dangerous. So dangerous in fact that he, she or they are elevated above the primary concern of the lawmakers - those who might reduce the country to anarchy, civil war and acts of terrorism. So we are asked to move from one frightening beast (suddenly made docile) to another without hesitation that the public might not say 'hold on, what about all that other bs?' and instead swallow was is in fact an erosion of their freedom.
Where might this take us? To secret lawmaking for sure, also to retrospective lawmaking on the basis of false pretence where retrospective lawmaking becomes the norm to a time when faith in the law might be reduced overnight in Parliament on grounds we are not availed to and which are not subject to public notification, submissions and debate - a type of executive power gone mad.
Other questions arise, the 13 now rendered harmless 'terrorists,' were held on illegally gathered evidence, surely they should be compensated as of right because lawful detention, restraint or imprisonment cannot be on the basis on an unlawful act by the authorities. Additionally, sceptical as I may be - why do some of their number remain on charges that will not be heard until after the election, also when does the discretion to dismiss charges that are not heard in a timely manner get exercised?
Time for calmness to prevail, because the lawmakers have failed there should not be haste exercised in remedying the law, certainly not retrospectively and certainly not on a 'trust me' basis that has already once failed.
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