Guns aren’t banned in Chicago.
If you actually paid attention to second amendment law (or ran a google search, or did 30 seconds of fact checking) you’d know that.
Chicago isn’t a gun free city. Chicago has never been a gun free city.
Chicago isn’t handgun free. It hasn’t been for several years (see above comment about second amendment law).
You can even carry concealed weapons in Chicago.
Chicago does have a municipal ordinance against assault weapons. That’s the closest you’ll get.
PS- When you use Chicago as an example for your gun argument and you’re wrong about Chicago you should either re-examine your argument or shut up. Blocking me on twitter doesn’t make you any more correct or less ignorant.
The courtroom definition of guilt is whatever a judge or jury says it is- as long as it’s proven “beyond a reasonable doubt.”
“Guilt” according to the dictionary is “the fact of having committed a breach of conduct especially violating law and involving a penalty.”
The key distinction from the courtroom version being the removal of the word “fact” and replacing with proof of the matter only “beyond a reasonable doubt”- something, quite obviously, less than having proven an actual fact.
Continue reading “Guilt Brokering.”
If you want to worship a goat or tree or potato chip, you can. But the government can’t force you to worship a goat or tree or Dorito.
The government can’t tell you what you can say.
The #lamestream #fakenews media can write what it wants, and the President can’t stop them.
You can hang out with whichever of your friends you want- even if your mom hates them. You can even protest together.
Continue reading “A Quick Guide to Some of the Rights of “Those People” (AKA All of Us) for Newspaper Commentors and Twitterers Who Have Only Heard About The Second Amendment.”
I once represented a kid who did dumb kid stuff. I still represent kids who do dumb kid stuff, but this kid was different. He did some really dumb kid stuff. Felony dumb. Like too many of these dumb-kid felony stories, this one involved a kid from a decent home in a decent neighborhood. He’d clearly watched Scarface after drinking one too many Red Bulls and thought that the only way out of the “mean” suburbs was his balls and his word.
And his drugs, obviously.
He tried to set himself apart in the marketplace with a unique distribution strategy. He was the “Peapod” of narcotics. He offered a personal delivery Continue reading “I’d Rather Be Good Than Lucky.”