Tired

I am tired.

It is not easy to fight someone else's fight...

with all odds stacked against you.

it is not easy to fight for someone who,

more often than not,

was dealt a bad hand,

because of a bad mom,

or a bad dad...

or a bad decision....

it is less easy ...

to fight when the cop is dirty...

the prosecutor lazy,

and the Judge, ... compromised,

because there is political stake at hand.

i am tired...

of bringing it home,...

of owning it....

of making it mine...

I am tired of all that is not just...

all that is not right...

all that could have been...

all that should have been....

and the world that might have been,

had each of us,

been true

to our conscious

to our inner self

to our personal moral compass....

i am truly tired.

Tired beyond words...

tired beyond space...

Signing off

CDAK

8/20/2013

Alaleh Kamran, Attorney at Law

A Professional Corporation
15760 Ventura Blvd, Suite 1010
Encino, Ca  91436
ph: 818-986-6222

Lecturer, Radio Host, Citizen Journalist, Blogger
alalehkamran@alalehkamran.com

Los Angeles, Las Vegas

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Alaleh-Kamran-Criminal-Defense-Fan-Page

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Mental Illness that is the criminal justice system.

The rhythmic metrical beat of the music synchronizes itself to the white lines of the freeway. I am once again headed to the Mental Health Court, that aging beat up space once known as a pickle factory. An old red brick building, dressed up in parts in hastily drawn gang graffiti and naked in parts as the paint has slowly been peeled off by the patient hands of time. Her dark stories are many… her tragic comedies of human error and fallibility even greater. Her secrets and her pains, etched in the hallways, in the courtrooms, on the walls, and in the holding cells much like her muted cries are only visible and audible to those who share the hallucinations of the patients who breathe life into her.

Life here is the theater of the absurd. A poorly painted tableau of incomprehensible and hard-to-decipher images of mental illness, family shame, disappointment and human tragedies intertwined with murder, rape, violence etc…. This is a rabbit hole, and I never know what to expect.. The mental health patients from various hospitals loiter around in the sitting area waiting for their cases to be heard… Some are catatonic. Others clearly responding to internal stimuli. Some are ragged looking. Others disheveled. A few well groomed. The army of nurses, forensic doctors, clerks and attendants glide invisibly much like the agony and torment of these patients.

As I walk down the hallway, my heels syncopate on the bare floors. I feel the breath of the building, rasping under the weight of the cases… or at least, the weight of my cases, in this building, is too much …. A son charged with attempted murder of his mom by driving a knife into her face to rid her of the perceived evil that had engulfed her, another man charged with murdering his best friend while in Meth induced psychosis, and yet another 21 old beautiful girl with a schizophrenic breakdown charged with attempting to blow up an imaginary bomb and yet another 50 year old charged with hate crimes and terror threats against those he believes have planted monitors in his head and have raped him electronically….

I walk to the security area to gain access to the holding cells where the incarcerated ones are held. The long walkway smell acrid. The putrid smell of a meat packing house sauced up with putrescent air fresheners attack the senses. I look at my wrists. Unshackled, unbound, and free… I am walking to the holding area. I lift my arm and bring my wrist closer to my nose. I remembered to wear my perfume today. It lifts me to a happy place, to a place of love, comfort and sweet tenderness… of music, joy and euphoria. It’s my defensive wall in this harrowing place.

Dressed in Yellow connoting “mental health” jail classification, my client stares at me with vacant eyes. He has not shaved, bathed or brushed his teeth or hair in days… Dogs on the streets are better managed, I remark to myself. Our conversation is stunted, the content void of any significance, legal or otherwise… I slowly trudge back to Court and wait for my case to be called.

I think it is Victor Hugo that said that "society is culpable in not providing a free education for all and it must answer for the night which it produces. If the soul is left in darkness sins will be committed. The guilty one is not he who commits the sin, but he who causes the darkness.”

We have failed… we as a society have failed to provide basic necessities, such as education, health care, mental health care and jobs… and if these souls are left in the darkness to commit sins and crimes against the society, it is US that is guilty… for we have turned away from the light… We are the cause of the darkness.

Signing off.

Alaleh Kamran

Uncollected Writings, 2015

Lecturer, Radio Host, Citizen Journalist, Blogger

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Was It Good For you?

November 7, 2014.

I walk into court today. It's a couple of days after prop 47 has passed which means many low level felonies will now be reduced to misdemeanors by operation of law.

My client is facing multiple cases all around the county. Prior to Prop 47, including his probation violations and his 4 open cases, he would be facing several years in State Prison. Most of his charges are drug related from use, to sales...Now, because of prop 47, i can finally get him into long term rehabilitation as opposed to warehousing him in state prison.

Today, he is being arraigned on several charges which were felonies when he was arrested. As I approached the prosecutors desk, I realize the deputy sitting at the desk today is an old old colleague of mine. I met him 24 years ago when I was a law clerk at the District Attorney's Office.

Over the years, being on the same side, or being on opposite sides of cases, we have formed a professional relationship which allows us to frankly and openly discuss the facts of our case and reach socially just and acceptable results.

I slowly go up to him. Judge is off the bench. The Courtroom is quietly bustling with the business of the day...

Me: Hey love... How you been.
DA: Hey girl, what brings you to my courtroom?
Me: [with an exuberant and effervescent tone] you gonna give me my first prop 47 reduction today...
DA: I am gonna be your first
ME: You gonna be my first. Talk dirty to me ...
DA: ok. you ready?
Me: ready ready... talk to me talk to me...

....

The Judge takes the bench, and the case is called. DA goes on the Record and says: Count I is reduced to a misdemeanor. Count II is reduced to a misdemeanor. Count III is also reduced to misdemeanor.

We take care of the rest of the issues... Defendant is given the opportunity to enroll in an In Patient Rehabilitation Program...

Judge goes off the Bench..

I walk to the DA. He looks at me and says:

DA: was it good for you...?
ME: it was good for me... was it good for you??

and we both laugh until tears roll down our cheeks.

Some days, i just love the practice of criminal defense.

Have an Awesome week-end, everyone.

CDAK, Alaleh Kamran.

Alaleh Kamran, Attorney at Law
A Professional Corporation
15760 Ventura Blvd, Suite 1010
Encino, Ca 91436
ph: 818-986-6222

Lecturer, Radio Host, Citizen Journalist, Blogger
alalehkamran@alalehkamran.com
Los Angeles, Las Vegas

https://www.facebook.com/…/Alaleh-Kamran-Criminal-Defense-F…
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The Chambers of my Heart

My pen has never been dryer than it is tonight despite the flow of the wine. 

The words balk at the paper. My thoughts rebel. I can't contain their movements. And like wild fire, the flickers reach to burn the dried out recesses of my being The embers explode in a luminous cadence and slowly descend to settle on thoughts and stories hiding in the folds of my soul.

My life is composed of rapidly moving snapshots of other peoples' lives clumsily choreographed in badly composed diorama sets … The dichotomies within which I move seamlessly leave me constantly mesmerized, perplexed, confused and often in pain by the inherent absurdity of life, the unfairness of destiny, and the incongruity of what we may otherwise believe to be Karma…

I stare at the coroner’s report describing the death of a 4 month old child due to a freak accident, SIDS maybe, a faulty heart maybe, ..who knows.. No one!! … All I know, is that I am the captain of this boat, of this destiny, of these folks, of this case. And that while their life hangs on the mighty fine balance of what we call the scales of justice, I know that “justice” will mean absolutely nothing, if I am not at my brightest, sharpest, smartest and bestest… This is my row to hoe. This is my field to plow, and my crop to harvest.

I move from the Coroner’s report, to re-assemble, re-construct, and re-plan a multi million dollar theft matter. Dead body on the ground suddenly vanishes from the brain. Focus is honed in, all wires tied up and circling around the papers and the trail of the money. At all times, guards are up, at all times, looking for the knife that is going to cut my jugular, and defeat me and sending my client to prison.

The sun sets. I am lost in the mountain of paper that has overtaken my desk. My role as an attorney is briefly paused so that I can morph back into being a mother, a wife, a regular human being with regular social duties. I gather my stuff, my keys to take me to my dearest ones, my briefcase to remind me of my never ending Sisyphean task and my make up bag, holding my treasured red lipstick that reminds me I am alive.

We are ushered into an enormous mansion. The fountain in the back yard flows 100 yards down the hill, and the property boundaries are vaster than my mind can stretch itself tonight. I am worn down and weary from the day’s work and yet, my lipstick gives me the power to smile and vests me with the smoothness that I need to slowly mingle with this crowd that wheels and deals with billions, and moves the economy of the land. The hostess’ diamond ring is as big as the heart of the 4 month old baby whose coroner report I was reading earlier this morning. And there is more money invested in the fountain flowing 100 yards down, that my all my clients have allegedly embezzled…

I am dizzy…. 4 chambers to my heart is not enough for me to compartmentalize all that I feel…

Alaleh Kamran, Attorney at Law

A Professional Corporation

15760 Ventura Blvd, Suite 1010

Encino, Ca  91436

http://alalehkamranlaw.blogspot.com/

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Heroin's lover: a choice of death.

Open Letter to my doe-eyed client who was so high in court today, he could not stand up in front of the Judge….

I know you are reading this.  I know your mom will be reading this.  There are hundreds like you on my page as they’re getting ready to shoot up, snort up, smoke out, or pop a pill.  And there are hundreds like your mom, silently reading this, weeping and wondering how much more she could have done.

You are right.  Life is not fair.  Death of loved ones is not fair.  The pain, neglect and abuse inflicted on us as children is not fair.  I get it.  I understand your pain.  I understand how badly you need to numb yourself to extricate yourself from that painful existence which is your reality.  The tracks on your arms are a road map of your pains and struggles.  I am not minimizing them.  I honor your pain.  I recognize your struggles.  I understand how you have bowed down, on your knees, to your addiction.  I understand how desperate and lonely and lost you are.  

I have seen you for years now.. I have walked with you from Juvenile court, into adult court… I have walked with you through felony arrests after strike arrests, … And through each case, with luck, with academics, with chambers conferences, with bamboozle, with motions, with tactics, I have walked you out of the doors of the courthouse,  unscathed, untouched, and with a mere misdemeanor conviction.  

Every time you’ve come to court, you were high.  Heroin is your lover.  Your mom is killing herself to keep you safe. You are burying your mother alive in your lust and passion for Heroin.  You’re an addict. You know it.  I know it.  There is no escaping it.  This is your life, and as fucked up as it, it is YOUR life, your gift on this earth for a short time, to make what you want of yourself. 

Years ago,  you sat in my office, excited over the fact that I had just obtained a dismissal on your transportation of a shit ton of Xanax, I looked at you and said:  “you think it’s easy, ‘cause you got off easy… but be careful how you get slammed, because if you don’t clean up, you’ll pay karmic wages”

Your karmic wages are here… Today, I couldn’t save you… you were so fucking stoned, your eyes were floating, your body was rolling, you were flying so high in court, that the Bailiff’s eyes welled up.  

The judge asked us to approach… she was going to ask the DA the charge you for being under the influence.  She was going to kick up the bail on your open case, and increase the case on your pending probation violation.  All I said was:  “He has been like a son” because you have.  Because I have seen you turn from a teen ager into a man, and because like how you love your fucking drugs, I have become fond of you… And it breaks my heart to see you spit your life away, as if you’re going to get a second chance at this merry go round….

You are now in the big boys’ court.  This is big league.  You either clean up your act, and decide that no matter how strong your addiction, you will be stronger.  If you don’t clean up you have two choices.  Either 1) You will do prison time.  I guarantee that.  You are a pretty boy.  Prison will not suit you well.  You won’t do well as someone’s bitch.  You won’t survive the violence, sexual or otherwise. Or the other choice is 2)  You will kill yourself and/or someone else.  Chances are you will overdose on your own vomit and we’ll be left to bury you.  

You are NOT a bad person. You are NOT a failure.  You are NOT evil.   You just have an addiction.  And until such time as you learn to forgive yourself and love yourself, you cannot move on.  I know there have been times you have hated me… Please know that regardless of your lies, deceptions, games, manipulations, all of which I have read through, I have loved you, as has your mother, unconditionally.  

Please know that the world needs you.  You have so much to give.  You have so much to teach… Hug yourself.  Look at yourself in the mirror, and make yourself the promise, that if not for your mother, then for the one person you miss the most, you will go to rehab… 

Let me know when you’re ready, and we’ll check you in.  

CDAK

Alaleh Kamran 

9/5/2014

Alaleh Kamran, Attorney at Law

A Professional Corporation

15760 Ventura Blvd, Suite 1010

Encino, Ca  91436

ph: 818-986-6222

Lecturer, Radio Host, Citizen Journalist, Blogger

alalehkamran@alalehkamran.com

Los Angeles, Las Vegas

Follow my blog: http://alalehkamranlaw.blogspot.com/

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The Pickle Factory that is the Mental Health Courthouse.

I'd rather be anywhere but here today... Parking is hell.. and there are no available spots for at least 3 blocks... I squeeze my car into a tiny hole, on badly mangled asphalt disfigured by mighty root trees that refuse to change their nature in the construct of man-made civilization.   I stumble out of the driver seat by catching my heel on the ground. 

The weight of my client's case carries heavier in my heart than my huge briefcase stacked with Jail records, Mental Hospital and psychiatrist reports.  I walk by the railroad tracks, on my way to get to Courthouse.  The train drags by along the tracks, lingering & hesitant... It too, is loathing arrival at the destination point. 

I walk into this building, an old pickle factory, now transformed into the Mental Health Court.  The hallways are packed with patients from different mental hospitals, accused of some type of a crime, or being placed on hold for being either a "danger to self" "danger to others" or "unable to provide for their own food shelter & clothing"....

Some are disheveled... others talk to themselves and respond to internal stimuli.  Yet another is catatonic and is staring into the dead space... There is a distinct smell to Mental Illness, permeated in the hallways by the pungent odors of disillusionment and the putrid smells of confusion, disappointment and desperation.

I made the mistake of becoming emotionally involved with this case.  I made the humoungous mistake of meeting family members in this wretched case of mine, and allowing my mothering instincts to gel with that of the mother.   I am now twined to the case, twined to the defendant who is facing a life sentence, twined to his mother, and his family members ....  and I have lost my footing.

I was up all last night.  My insides writhing with anguish, struggling with strategy, policy, morality, and law.     Yes, after 22 years of practice, there are still some cases that grapple my soul, and etch themselves to my inner fibers... 

The tragedy of Mental Illness occurs when it collides with the defunct, bankrupt and dilapidated criminal justice system... Years ago, in an effort hailed by the Republicans as Reaganomics, all fundings were stripped from Mental Hospitals, Mental programs, outpatient and inpatient programs much like the way ISIS strips its prisoners dignity prior to killing them.

I walk to the back of the Courtroom towards that long hallway that leads to the holding areas.  Walls are painted an ugly forest Green and the familiar smell of jail burns my nostrils.  It smells like a dirty meat shop.  The heart of this courthouse is the testament of our failure as a society.   Alexis de Tocqueville, the French political philosopher of the 19^th Century once said that the best way to judge the success of any democracy is to measure how it treats the mentally ill and the incarcerated.  And by what I have seen in the last 22 years and having worked a great part of my law school career in the mental health units of the criminal justice system, I know that we have failed.  Utterly, absolutely, unequivocally and without a single doubt. 

September 4, 2014

CDAK

Alaleh Kamran

Alaleh Kamran, Attorney at Law

A Professional Corporation

15760 Ventura Blvd, Suite 1010

Encino, Ca  91436

ph: 818-986-6222

Lecturer, Radio Host, Citizen Journalist, Blogger

alalehkamran@alalehkamran.com

Los Angeles, Las Vegas

Follow my blog:  http://alalehkamranlaw.blogspot.com/

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The Prosecution of Ahmed Abu Khattala, the BenGhazi mastermind

Ahmed Abu Khattala, the suspected mastermind behind the consulate attack in Benghazi, Libya, is in U.S. law enforcement custody and will face a judge today, June 28, 2014,  in FEDERAL court in Washington D.C.  

I don't know what the state of evidence is, and I have no opinions on the suspect's guilt or innocence.  But as a criminal defense attorney who took an oath to the US Constitution, I salute the decision to try him on National soil, in a public forum, open to the Media, and subject to a JURY decision.  Not because Ahmed Abu Khattala is important or unimportant.  Nor because what he has allegedly done is significant or insignificant.

But because we are a nation of laws.  We are a nation founded upon the right to a fair trial and a nation that is founded upon the basic notion that an accused must face his accuser.  

The extra judicial killings taken up by our government, i.e.: the drones, Osama B.L.  and other terrorists killed off the US soil, are a poison to our system.   [An extrajudicial killing is the killing of a person by governmental authorities without the sanction of any judicial proceeding or legal process. Extrajudicial punishments are by their nature unlawful, since they bypass the due process of the legal jurisdiction in which they occur. Wikipedia]

And when we as citizens remain quiet when our government abrogates the legal system, and steps outside of the Constitution to effectuate "justice", we become exactly what our enemies ARE.  We become terrorists.  When we,  as citizens, do not decry the suspension of the Habeas Corpus, or when we are not horrified when the constitutional rights of our prisoners are violated, we become co-conspirators in the violation of the Constitution.  

This is not an ideological or philosophical or dogmatic discussion.  This is a real and palpable shift in the basic fabric of our Republic.  And unless we stop being so lackadaisical, we will cease to be the nation that we have been for so long, the land of the brave and the home of the free.  

The test of whether one is a true American patriot is not how much one HATES the enemy, but rather how much American justice one affords the enemy, on American soil and in Public courts, and how much respect one gives the Constitution above and beyond one's hatred of the enemy.  

Signing off

CDAK

Criminal Defense Alaleh Kamran

Alaleh Kamran, Attorney at Law

A Professional Corporation

15760 Ventura Blvd, Suite 1010

Encino, Ca  91436

ph: 818-986-6222

Lecturer, Radio Host, Citizen Journalist, Blogger

alalehkamran@alalehkamran.com

Los Angeles, Las Vegas

Follow my blog:   http://alalehkamranlaw.blogspot.com/

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Destruction of Enemies is a good thing.

They never found the body... but the forensic evidence and the suspect's statements led the LAPD to believe that he had shot his brother and disposed of the body.

The cadaver dogs had positively reacted to the backyard... There were purchases made from Home Depot for all sorts of tools, including a shovel, an axe, 30 pounds of briquets, and a hammer.

The bottom lining of the living room couch was missing, there were human hair stuck in the nails at the bottom.

We stood in court, face to face, the prosecutor and I... she had charged my client with 1st degree murder, seeking a life sentence. The detectives standing behind her, holding the 2 volume murder book, spanning the 1.5 year murder investigation, looked at me with a poker face, trying to gauge my ability and fortitude...

....

In the process of defending the case, and defending my client's life, in the process of finding justice between a Murder and a Manslaughter, in the process of matching the facts and deleting the suppositions, the prosecutor and i tested each other's mettle. I took her to task. I challenged her theories, her suppositions, and she returned the favor.

.....

A few short years have passed since then. And Madame prosecutor, who took me to task, and whom i fought hard and long in that battle is now a Judge. I walked into her Court today... She saw me, she lit up, and she smiled. Her eyes sparkled. She got off the bench, hugged me and i hugged her back.

I am reminded of Abraham Lincoln's quote: Am I not destroying my enemies when I make friends of them?"

Someday, before i am old and grey, before i have lost my wits to senility, i will write about this one case that cored my soul, hollowed me of breath, and hallowed my practice. But until that day comes, ... i am the luckiest girl who practices what she loves and her passion for her work has translated into a tale of 1001 stories that would put Sheherzad to shame.

On a glorious morning, ...

CDAK.

1/27/2014

Los Angeles

Lecturer, Radio Host, Citizen Journalist, Blogger

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Truths of the Criminal Justice System

22 years in the Criminal Justice world, i have learned: 

1) Not all guilty men are convicted, and not all innocent men walk.

2) Some of the real criminals are not the ones who are facing charges, but rather are sitting on the bench. 

3) Within each defendant, there is a Cop dying for a chance to prove himself.

4) Within each Cop, there is a criminal one step away from reality.

5) Cops are the greatest party animals. 

6) Drug addicts and Alcoholics are the sweetest and most misunderstood creatures on earth. 

7) The most hateful and judgmental people are religious people, often rationalizing their judgments on Religion & God.

8) There is a reason we have two words for Law and Justice. Because one is NOT the other. The merging of the two becomes EQUITY, and we dont have courts of Equity!

9) The more handsome or prettier the defendant, the better the justice they get.

10) A Black Man will never get the justice that a White Man gets. 

11) Black Jurors have more sympathy for the White defendants than White Jurors have for Black Defendants.

12) Justice CAN and IS bought on a daily basis.