I don’t believe in Zimmerman.
I pulled into the El Cajon courthouse parking lot just in time to see one of John’s jurors. He was my favorite. I skidded to a stop because I wanted to thank him, hug him and ask him a boat load of questions. He turned out to be the jury foreman. He gave me a glimpse of what happened in that jury room. In the first few minutes the 12 introduced themselves, then at exactly 4:20, a fact that made some of them chuckle, they took their first and only poll. Without hesitation each juror at the table one-by-one pronounced John not guilty. Then they discussed why. The jurors blamed the police, they knew the case was poorly put together with no evidence to convict John. No large vats of concentrates, no butane tank to show, no drug lab. It was a manufactured case. It was not a textbook butane extraction case like Carberry had bellowed at the jurors in his closing argument. The case against John was vapor, a waste of time and resources and the jurors took ten minutes to destroy it. So, the question is answered, the prosecution never lost the case because they never had one. John was not guilty, the DA only tried to make 12 people believe he was.
If the prosecution’s case went south before it began, the defense’s case was unstoppable. Mike Cindrich had witnesses, he had documents, unlike Carberry he had proof and it showed John’s innocence. John took the stand himself which was brave and also heartbreaking watching him endure it after he had endured so much. The two expert witnesses William Britt and Andrew Pham did excellent jobs. The science in the case was complex. Andrew, who probably is good at everything he does, skillfully educated the jury on extraction processes, tests he’s validated and other pioneering cannabis science. It was thrilling to witness the evolution of how these cases are tried and there were a lot of supporters in the room to see it. The San Diego cannabis community has resources, we have experts, we have advocates and we are not victims. Please do not plea to a cannabis case in San Diego. There’s no longer any need.
The prosecutors object. They don’t know. The police don’t want to know, if who’s simmers is a dove. Usual advocates know the judges. Broderick a mite. Vague-o.
Fake-out. His Moline, himozine.
made of custom weres; ban all achievement. You gotta ruse? You gotta Thermidor, eh? jam it all. Eggin’. I out for the cops, may have permission to smell like? Trot out, drive, see what people are sane. We hook in when we gnawr. Civil le dull. Tweezie. You got that, multitask republic? Supervised horrors. Libraries, advances, circles.
I don’t believe in Zimmerman I don’t believe in Beatles I just believe in me, Yoko and me, and that’s reality. The dream is over. What can I say? The
John Lennon right at forty. So ya thought ya like to session; well I remember this song. Where ya really stand. Have all of been shot.