… but the judge never bothered explaining how I was supposed to do that!
As The Bug‘s self-appointed-for-life court reporter and ranter-in-residence, I’m proud to once again tease our reader with a fresh but very rough draft of one of the middle chapters in my upcoming book (see below) on my foolish journey through the Queensland justice system. Please enjoy.
Chapter XXX: An episode of Rumpole of the Bailey cut short!
Let’s cut to the chase: I firmly believe that District Court appeal judge Haddrick took an immediate dislike to me the moment I hobbled into his courtroom unfashionably late through no fault of my own.
I’ve got no real problem if that honestly held view was correct. A lot of people have formed a negative view on first meeting me over the journey; didn’t Hawkeye Pearce opine once that “it saves time” if people hated Frank Burns at first sight?
I can’t afford to get the transcript of my appeal hearing back on April 13 but it went something like this. I began by brilliantly drawing on everything I had learned in gaining my bush lawyer’s ticket from a Kellogg’s cornflakes packet and arguing that it didn’t need the opinions of the passengers on a crowded Clapham omnibus to agree that at some stage the police prosecutions branch saw great importance in those two official missives sent to me in September 2023 and early March 2024 by government agencies that claimed, in very similar words, that the remote camera operator had certified that signs were adequate and clearly visible on the day of my alleged lead-footed attempt to mow down some private-school students.
I then went local and argued that only a crowded Brisbane City Council glider bus service needed to be pulled over and, if all those passengers were shown the two letters mentioned above, they would all agree that those behind my prosecution saw the importance of proving the state of signs in that 40km/hr zone were fine and dandy and I had no good reason to disobey them. And seeing I was told “all relevant documents and certificates” would be presented at the Magistrates Court hearing, they’d agree overwhelmingly by a show of hands that I was perfectly in my rights, given facts outlined below, to assume that crucial certificate would take pride of place in the police brief at hearing.
I do have a deep voice although not really rumpolian and perhaps I do look like someone who drinks a gallon of sherry for lunch so maybe that sparked what happened next. His honour cut me off and declared gruffly that I would not be allowed to turn his courtroom into an episode of Rumpole of the Bailey.
Without that transcript of my appeal hearing, I’m paraphrasing what Mr Justice Haddrick said next but I took it to mean he was going to suspend proceedings to give me time to come to my senses and behave properly on his return … or else.
And as further evidence of what I felt was his distaste for my behaviour, and displaying perfect 20-20 vision, he strode out, declaring that decent practice – common courtesy given his honourness – was for every one in his court to nod on his departure. As the door closed on His Honour, I turned to the commish’s counsel and said: “I did!”
Admittedly, it was not a showy display of deference that perhaps a visiting diplomat approaching Queen Elizabeth the First may have executed at court, but a nod is still a nod, right? For the sake of the argument, let’s say that CCTV of my appeal hearing can show I was terribly wrong in my recollection of events and no nod was forthcoming,
I’ve turned up late to my hearing after being sent to the wrong floor; as soon as the hearing began, I explained that misstep had put me into a bit of a state to begin with, exacerbated by the fact that I wasn’t feeling all that well ahead of a heart procedure the following week and could the court be a little understanding and tolerant as I collected my thoughts and presented my arguments? I do regret not having said I was feeling rather discombobulated but would I have pronounced it right?
How then, do we explain what I viewed as the appeal judge’s own fairly obvious theatrical performance, perhaps befitting of a Rumpole episode itself, so soon into the hearing. No attempt to explain what I was doing wrong; just a warning to change my ways or else.
I am entitled to wonder if his goal in part was to deliberately throw me off balance for having the temerity to represent myself in a system really designed to be practised only by skilled legal minds being paid a large amount of money for the privilege of doing that. Were that his intention, it worked.
His judgement many, many, weeks later clearly rammed home – by cutting and pasting eight full lines from the respondent’s outline of argument – his total support for “the commissioner’s” submission that I should have employed the solicitor and barrister who provided support before and at my lower-court hearing if I had really wanted to prove the existence of a camera operator’s certificate and seek a ruling on its possible disclosure. In another part of his judgement, His honour again reinforced his view “the appellant had every opportunity to pursue those concerns [the prosecution not honouring its disclosure obligations] through the Court, prior to the hearing, and with assistance from counsel (that represented him at the trial)”.
Eight full lines from an outline of argument drafted with the advantage of rebutting my own summary demanded weeks earlier! Ah, that even playing field I’ve written so much about. And yet not a word from His honour’s judgement devoted to my appeal presentation where I believe I clearly explained my decision as a largely penniless aged pensioner that my two legal-eagle friends had already done more than enough for me as a lost cause up to May last year by pro-bono advice beforehand and then representation by John Shepley at hearing. And a costly 83A application, if I had even known about it, was not something I would ask them to pursue and one far beyond my means.
I also told the appeal court that my solicitor had advised me that the police prosecutor at a pre-lower court mention had advised him the police brief was still being added to, including that additional images had been provided by me. A totally untrue claim but maybe the appeal judge decided that exchange did not take place – he’s probably never heard of such a thing to be fair – so there was no basis to my honestly held belief that come the lower-case hearing, the police brief would include that camera operator’s certificate as promised.
That’s the certificate, of course, that the respondent’s outline of argument stated was “entirely speculative about the existence of evidence claimed to be in the possession of police” and fully supported by the appeals judge.
CLAIMED TO BE? The certificate that those two government letters informed me was in the possession of police?
You couldn’t make this shit up!
Don Gordon-Brown
Want to be alerted immediately a new blog hits Australia’s longest running and most offensive satire site? Simply click on the Follow sign to be emailed new yarns the moment they are uploaded! The very second we go far too far – and trust us we will – you can then quickly unfollow via the three dots!
The Bug Online 