Well, guess what, I've been trying to ignore that debacle. My only comment is that there are probably fifty murder cases every month as newsworthy as this debacle. Don't get me wrong. I'm really sorry this little girl died. But I'm equally sorry every time I hear that somebody I've never heard of before died before his or her time. So consequentially, I don't know a damn thing about this case except what I have been unable to avoid hearing on the news, in the breakrooms, in random discussions at civic events, in sermons, in consultations with half my clients who want to waste my time talking about this kind of horseshit and then get upset that my bill for consultation is so high. It's not that I don't warn them. I told one guy that I was ignoring the case so I didn't have any opinion and damned if he didn't feel compelled to tell me a bunch of facts about how this lady was partying when she was morally obliged to be mourning the loss of her daughter. I warned him at least twice and probably closer to seventy-two times that I didn't know anything of value of the case and that he should listen to someone more knowledgeable, such as one of the talking heads on television or someone who has stayed at home and watched this instead of having his or her own life. Well, he wouldn't shut up about it. He occupied my office for an hour an a half, at least a third of which was devoted to him telling me his opinions about the case and ignoring my advice to stick to the subject of our case. Well, I billed him an hour and a half, and I put down 30 minutes discussing the Casey Anthony case. He hasn't complained about the bill. And he shouldn't. Hell, I was right. I told him that since I didn't know anything about the case, I had a reasonable doubt that she was guilty. I certainly thought all the partying nonsense was irrelevant. If I've learned anything in this damn business I've learned that PEOPLE ARE WEIRD! If weird equals guilty several of my frat brothers murdered that little girl. Based on a cursory glance at the Internet, I'd say there are thirteen people who aren't convinced the mother did it. Fourteen if the mother really didn't. But twelve of us are the ones who count.
Again, I'm sorry she lost her life. I'm not convinced it was murder, and apparently neither were twelve other people. Apparently not much more than twelve other people, but twelve other people didn't buy it. Still, if she really drowned in a pool, it's just as tragic, and she's just as dead, and I'm sorry. I can't help thinking maybe the jury knew more about this case than people listening to the media, who convicted this lady years ago and without whose rabid insistence that the mother was guilty probably was what forced the prosecution to take this dog of a case to trial in the first place.
I heard the prosecutor's speech after the verdict. Is there anyone who didn't? I heard the prosecutor say he wasn't going to criticize a jury. Does he think juries are never wrong? Of course not. I'll tell you that the jury was wrong in most of the cases I've lost and at least one that I won (which one I'll never tell). And when I lose one on appeal, the judges are always wrong. But that's the system we've got. It's the worst one in the world except all the others. Juries give non-lawyers a role in the system. Believe me, if you're not a lawyer, you want some part of the system not dominated by us lawyers. And if you are a lawyer, I don't have to tell you that.
So I've now written a blog about something I know nothing about. A guy I know tells me that's what a blog is for, writing about what you know nothing about.