ORANGE COUNTY PARKS: April 2017

Today I stumbled upon Judge David O. Carter (above), as he was doing his routine Walk-Through of the homeless camps along the Santa Ana River Bike Trail, in accord with the Federal Case brought by Brooke, and the ACLU who keep pitching motions at him, which he responds to with Orders that, however inadvertently, serve to keep the Park packed with drug addicted mentally ill violent repeat offenders.

Two Plaintiffs live in the camp that sprang up around where I have a drawing blind. One has a bullet in his brain, and a put bull. The pit bull was in the back yard, when robbers came in the front door and shot the Plaintiff, which is as good as any reason to be homeless.

Brooke is one of many interns who hung out at Catholic Worker while attending UCI. Which is how she has happened upon unsavory characters in her sojourn through legal beagle life; via Dwight Smith's homeless-hub charity. Some interns come to bad ends: Charles Samuels, a long time regular at Catholic Worker cut the throat of an intern while stealing her ATM card. Other interns go back to their home countries for various anti-social behavior: What college kid is not going to consider her internship the golden opportunity to get snockered and take drugs 24/7; rule number one is Don't Get Caught.

About a year ago Brooke became BROOKE WEITZMAN SBN 301037. (Move over Gerry Spence) I have doubts about Brooke's IQ, and not just because she is a cute twenty something blond. For starters, I am on the County's side in her most recent case championing the “unhoused:” Brooke's primary legal consultant, is 'my man, Doug Barker, whose best friends happened to be Street Lawyer, Spicer, and Charles Samuels,' before Charles murdered Dwight's intern.

DOUG BARKER, 'Doug the Thug: Mayor of Mayhem

If you were born before 1950 you know what 'my man' means; for Doug I am 'The One, the only one and there could be no other one' for him, so be it, so it has been for twenty years. My little finger is not extended when I drink tea because Doug is wrapped around it.

While talking to Judge Carter I was hardly able to refrain from screaming, 'Get these fucking drug addicts out of here;' if you know me you would have been impressed by my reserve, actually, come to think of it, you have to know me through computer tech channels and then you have to see it to believe it; I'm fairly indifferent and unemotional about the law, living accommodations, dirty cops, and the wonderful world of art, but God help you if you annoy me or say anything stupid when I am working on computer Think Tank stuff. According to Ed Crane I was absolutely silent for the entire two years that I worked for the Cato Institute, (because I do not care about politics). Bill Gates, told Ed, "She called me a colossal fucking idiot and told me to get out of her office, ha, ha." (I wasn't kidding.)

"Get these idiots out of my park!"

Judge Carter, expressed concern that so many people have nowhere to live. I said, "I have never met the mythical downtrodden disenfranchised homeless person, all I have met, in the forty years that I have been drawing wildlife here, are violent repeat offenders who will tell you that they are disenfranchised, particularly in the Camp that you just came from, where two of the Plaintiffs in the Civil Rights case against the County live." He said, (God only knows why), "...tell me more." And that was his first mistake, because: I did. Oddly his entire entourage lined up to talk to each and every bedraggled junky. He doesn't see the elephant in the room; the fact that most of the river rats are the product of one hanging judge or another, in that their absentee parents were in prison, on senseless charges, while their unacculturated offspring learned to 'survive.' Carters victims never had a chance, yet he frames them as 'there but for fortune,' as if they are product of middle class families who are one check away from ending up in a meth colony on the Santa Ana River Bike Trail: This River Rat strata of society is a product of our legal system, not a product of our economy.

The Santa Ana River Bike Trail is packed with drug addicted mentally ill violent repeat offenders:

OK, here we have a test of your IQ:
Did you exclaim, "Oh, what cute duckies."
(Sigh of exasperation, these are goslings, you idiot.)

Convicted felons, burglars, camp conveniently adjacent to apartment complexes.

Dave (his idea not mine) told me that he had suggested needle exchange boxes and that the County had installed them. Here he is proving to everyone and no one that he is not bias against talking to the homeless; he dutifully shook their hands, while the County and I looked on in horror: Be Afraid, Be Very Afraid. His job is to look impartial, rather he looks bat crap crazy.

No one has used the newly installed fancy needle collection boxes and trash sites, because it's too much trouble. I guess the County has not noticed: Throwing trash into the river is simpler. I suggested that Dave read my blog, he said it would be unethical (what crap, Judges are expected to read as much as they can on any and every subject, we want a well informed judiciary), but he did tell the County to take a look. He said that he would do an incognito walk-though, I told him that he would probably be attacked and should not come without the Marshals:

The US Marshal, post modern Adonis, they make them wear Dockers,

when everyone would really like to see them in speedoes.

Dave said he would come through at midnight, I warned him, "There are three meth addicts, two men and a girl, patrolling at night, looking for people to kill, they all have ninja knives. Dave said that he had made a surprise visit to the prison at midnight. I pointed out that those armed men are in cells. These are in tents, and they do not want any intruders skulking around their meth labs.

STERLING

Sterling was evicted from the camp on the east side of the trail, because he is prone to argue with his wife; at all hours of the day and night, when others, might not be wired on speed, but are crashing. So, lucky me, Sterling and his wife who followed, moved in next to me. And now I have absolutely no hope of getting any work done at all: Even if an occasional critter came by, which now they don't, drawing over the racket is impossible. He does not like any critters who he has not seen before, particularly not Coyotes and Egyptian Geese:

"I'm Egyptian, are you talking to me!"

I told Dave that I had been in his court for eight years; he assumed I meant in criminal court, he had issued over one million years in prison sentences in his twenty years as a criminal court judge, I don't think he believed me that I am not a criminal but instead, rather, I was suing under a Federal Section 1983 False Arrest in Federal Court. He said, 'but you live here!" I replied, "I am homeless, I live behind a dumpster up the street, I have been drawing wildlife here for forty years; you just walked through the junky colony that sprang up around my drawing blind, and lately, since it's legal I have a tent, but I don't live there, I just have food in it, lugging food around on my bike is a huge hassle." He responded, "It's not lawful." He seemed like a frightened rabbit. He even made jokes about the way he is perceived. I was horrified by how much of reality he does not see, he shakes people's hands because five US Marshals are here to protect him, but regarding himself and everything that he impacts he has no idea of the scope and damage of his influence. I told him that 47 coyotes were killed by the homeless 'campers,' he asked, "Why; did they perceive them as a threat?" I said, "No, when people are on meth they want to kill, the Coyotes were not a threat, they were an easy target."
I'm sure the judge has no concept of people killing living things, regardless of how many murders he has put away.

Cleo the Goose get's it, "I'm out of here!"

"I'm Egyptian, am I a target too!" (She isn't actually Egyptian, in fact, she is equatorial, but she identifies with being Egyptian.)

Bert and Gurt could not be happier about Coyote carcasses being dumped in the run-off tunnels.

I asked Dave to do something about the devastation to the wildlife, he just stared blankly as if to consider how anyone could be concerned with something as pedestrian as all of that, (The Park is a very delicate ecosystem, or it was, actually now it has to be condemned and plowed under, or rocked over in this case, because of all the disease and contaminants in the homeless camps, as for the ecosystem:.

Doug was slated for a position with the Federal Court. There was someone before me, she died of cancer, and Doug took to living on the street. She was Swedish, a pediatrician, I know people who knew her, (the only people who I know in Sweden are the Baronesses Bryant, so, that tells you what kind of company Doug keeps). That, and the fact that he calls me Princess when he forgets that I am not her. Just saying, Brooke is not royalty, Brooke is a joke to Doug she made the mistake of assuming that he is some drop out lawyer living on skid row. I guess, he could be viewed as that, but, he got to the street by way of being heir to an impressive Palm Beach estate that outranks the Kennedy's, the proverbial privileged childhood was followed by a football scholarship to Michigan State, having been the captain of the football team, which is what he looks like (wow). He was a Navy Special Forces officer, capped off with a significant position in the CIA. Having practicing law in the DC appellate court, and most recently having done research for the prestigious OC Public Defenders Officer Division of Writs and Appeals, which worked out well for them since he is a Michigan State Law grad, (top of the top ten law schools), now, every legal beagle fresh out of law school keeps him on a short leash. In case you doubt his credentials just ask him about Katherine MacKinnon (the then head of Michigan Law) he still hates her, as is the duty of any misogynist, born before 1950.

Trust me, nothing is more pedestrian than a federal judge, but they do not see it like that; if you are ever in one of their court rooms you will be astounded by the tedium that passes for justice). Then, to add insult to injury, Dave made jokes about his own self importance. It was beyond annoying; to be there bashing my head against a brick wall, knowing that Dave would never get a clue, somehow I remained calm. Dave looked as if he suspected that he would not be able to walk away unscathed. He picked up the pace, I pointed out that he just missed a pit bull fight, "...they are still over there looking for teeth, I don't know if it's the teeth of the pit bulls, or of the man who separated them (I'm pretty sure they were looking for Sterling's teeth, that were knocked out by the dog: Sterling the Enforcer, Brandisher of Ninja Knives. A very irritating meth addict with a plethora of mental illnesses and convictions, wanders the River all knight, killing.

I was furious, "These are not homeless people," I admonished Dave, "they are colonies of criminals, and when you have them set up like that, where they can gang up on victims, where there is no recourse to authority what you get is a lot of violence, they don't want any outsiders, including me, interfering with their crime spree, they tell everyone to get out, I stay anyway but a man standing where you are standing right now, was battered by a mentally ill drug addicted violent repeat offender on Sunday, he called three separate law enforcement agencies and none would respond." Judge Carter asked the Marshal what jurisdiction we were in, and was told that we are in "Orange, Anaheim is across the river," then Judge David O. Carter asked, 'This is the Sheriff's jurisdiction here isn't it?" Concluding with, "So, I see, it isn't safe out here, is that what you are saying?" Duh.

"I'm furious too!" What, ya got something against Chinese!"

One of the first thing that Dave asked me was if I was with Heidi, I told him no, that Brooke and Heidi, (two women who are bringing the case against the county on behalf of homeless Plaintiffs) they asked me for evidence that would prove their case, I told them that "everything I have exonerates the County..." The entire line of lemmings lit up:

They know that the fed case at issue, is a contrivance to fleece the tax payer, brought by two women of totally questionable motives, but, can you imagine any of these lovely ladies (above) saying that? No. They work for the County, the last thing that they want to do is be tactless to a judge. As I see it, Brooke and Dwight Smith, and (my insignificant other), top ten attorney Doug Barker, are peas in a pod; they are inseparable. Dwight and Doug are Ritalin addicts, with a propensity for every drug that they can possibly get their hands on: Under the law, if it walks like a duck and it talks like a duck it's a duck. They claim to be champions of the homeless, but it looks more to me like they are championing their addictions. The three duckies were together at Brooke's graduation from UCI last year, and they have been together ever since, in my estimation battering the court with buck shot cases that are contrived to grab, deep pockets cash, from public entities.

Camp Cash Grab is directly under the power lines; it makes you wonder doesn't it, considering that power lines are suspected of causing all manner of cancers: Drug addicts are not particularly concerned about their health. I don't get the impression that they are especially concerned about their Rights or their Freedoms, in fact, if Judge Carter assigned them all a cell, they would be good with that, as long as getting drugs was a sure thing. Ask any of them, "...the best times and the best drugs are in prison."

"Leave, all of you people, leave or I'll jump! I'll do it, I swear I will!"

Brooke fills the air with ambition, but she went to UCI Law, technically the best school in the Country; literally not a top ten. The punch line is, Doug hates homeless people, and all of Brooke's cases address civil rights abuses suffered by the homeless. Doug and Dwight Smith of Catholic Worker Isaiah House, are Brooke's source of homeless expertise, what Brooke's mentors share in common is a long term addiction to Ritalin. The plot thicken! if you were Brooke would you want Batman and Robbin; Dwight, and Doug; the smartest guy in town, holding the marionette strings? All of Doug's accumulated training and expertise is antithetical to Brooke's purpose, maybe Brooke has found a way to work it, but not if Doug is the most effective man alive, which he is, because that would be like enlisting James Bond during the cold war to pick off people going over the wall. What you see is not what you get, it's whatever he wants you to see: James Bond's loyalties are not with Russia. When Doug wonders if I can see through him I remind him that I was 12 when I went to college.

One thing appears as another.

In the War of the Sexes, whatever Brooke's fallback position is, mine is better. How did I achieve this remarkable status in Doug's life you ask, simple, when a man plays hard to get, a woman must play harder to get, when that man tries to manipulate you into a jealous snit fit by telling you, for example, that the law librarian came on to him, you react by going into a silent state of emotional devastation, (which is easy and gives you more alone time to get your case work done, since you are justifiably avoiding him and his mistress).

"I'm so dejected, talk among yourselves people, please, I need to be alone."

From that point forward bemoan your fate, build your rival up into Cleopatra, guilt trip your man like he has never been guilt tripped before and keep him permanently in the dog house, from then-after he will never think of anything but how to get back into your good graces, since he believes he wronged you (with his story about whatever the hell her name is, although she never propositioned him in the elevator at all, or anywhere else, or anything even remotely like that, he is such a liar). He will focus on making it up to you. Never mind that he and whats-her-name never actually had an affair, he is much more concerned with the result that he earned (your broken heart) by intimating that they could have. (Serves him right doesn't it?) If you were born after 1950 and you are not a gold digger, don't do any of the above, just ignore all of it.

Everyone loves Brooke, I guess because she is so pretty, and her focus is on money. There are no women in my class of nerd girl brainacs who are into having relationships, in fact, it is so unlikely that a woman with my neurological condition would date that we are considered incapable of consent: under the law; consummation is rape and there is no defense for the man who didn't do his homework. Doug asked me obliquely what was not happening, “Sometimes a guy just can't get to first base,” is how he put it, I replied, “Maybe I'm autistic.” Maybe not: I am just very intelligent and I don't like the distraction that romance poses. (Because the law is so much more absorbing than all of that.)

"No, don't concern yourself, I'll be fine, time heals all wounds."

When I was growing up there was no 'diagnosis' for being a thinker, other than 'genius,' but now it's termed 'Asperger's Autism,' I wonder why Doug has never looked that up, I mean, he is a researcher. I've always wondered, which is why I don't take him seriously: He survived Vietnam, yet there is no apparent evidence of how he gets through the day, other than on an unending drug fueled mindless locomotion, an expensive one.

I wish that I had been there when Princes died, I would have told Doug to wait it out, grief only lasts for about two years; he was sure that it would never end. And now it won't, because he suppressed it with drugs. On drugs, you can never go forward; deluded stagnation is what you want if there is no end in sight to suffering.

I was so deeply moved by his description of her: I was dumb struck, so, I made a joke. Sarcasm is serviceable for everything, sufficient for nothing. I'm smart, I'm not mature. Doug's story describes her love for the piano, I could not resist, I said, "So let me guess, she suffered a hang nail and went slowly insane when she couldn't play." He laughed out loud, I suspect because it was so much easier than saying what he didn't want to say: She died. Plus, there is nothing more of a relief, to a person on the street, than a joke made about mental illness at someone else's expense. Everyone categorizes 'the homeless' all of the time, because no one wants to meet the description, like identifying it keeps it at bay, hating it keeps it far away, out of sight and out of mind. Maybe if everyone with enough money to have kids were assigned a homeless person instead of a second child, the problem would be solved. Nothing else seems to work, maybe it's time to assign the solution. In China if you save someone's life, you have to pay that persons expenses from then on. If you can afford two kids, in China, you can only have one. How about, you can have one and adopt a homeless person. I really think that rather than multi-million dollar think tanks churning no solution out of all of that funding, we should just make homeless people the literal beneficiaries of all of that effort and money. We should make all of those scholars, and 501c3 Christians take full responsibility for the individuals who they pontificate about. At least they would STFU for a change. After a week across the street from Camp Cash Grab, I never criticized a cop for shooting a homeless person again, because it so colossally terrifying to be under siege by armed mentally ill drug addicted violent repeat offenders, all day every day. Lets make the homeless support groups actually support someone. The demands of such a commitment would be pivotal to their funding; and then, they would figure out a permanent solution fast.

Pigeons! We can fix this, we can find a solution to 'the pigeon problem.'

Let's get these pigeons off of the Trail, and into coups!

Tonight, March 24, 2017, I sat with a group of Anaheim citizens who are addressing 'the homeless problem,' in front of the City Council tomorrow evening. It was like sitting in a room full of fluffy cats; it was warm and fun and fascinating. I don't think it occurred to them to take anyone in. Not any more than your cat would adopt a ferret under her wing. Because ferrets are a different species so they can't be addressed on an even playing field, they might break all of the cat rules!

"Ferrets in my circle? Never! This area is reserved for cats!" The dehumanization of 'other' is trans-generational, the homeless are a permanently ostracized sub-species, a lowly other strata of society. General Chang's daughter married a homeless guy who wandered the beach in front of her house, in Hawaii, but the mystery was solved when she introduced herself as Mrs. MacArthur, Chinese people place a very high priory on names and titles, she married him because he is General MacArthur's son, which is good luck. In America contact with 'the homeless' is a curse. One lady, at tonight's meeting, kept asking me if I am really homeless. I wanted to say, "Oh it's much worse than that, not only am I homeless, but I don't care." People who have not been homeless fear living, on the street, in a state of indifference, more than death: That they should ever come to a point in time when homelessness is not their worst nightmare terrifies them. I don't have a dream of acculturation and reintegration into society in the forefront of my mind, because, it's not a respectable club: Membership in the middle class means nothing. My father was a member of Nobel Prize nominees, That would be alright, but aspirations toward inclusion in suburbia, no thanks. A main stream life affords you a job-car-Rolex-house-relatives-retirement-and then you die.

It's always about rules. Which is probably why homeless people have found an alternative. She termed them 'resistant.' The only rule of adopting someone is that you examine your motives and actions, because you are going to be held accountable, scrutinized, and, your adoptee is the star witness for the plaintiff, so your defense better be bullet proof against that authoritative voice of prosecution. The homeless do not have an authoritative voice, they have a joke voice, a self perpetuating diminutive voice. One lady, at the meeting, had the idea of an outdoor retreat with surveillance camera's, and a laundry. I have never done a laundry in my entire life; I'm guessing my stay there would be short lived. It didn't seem like the right place for eccentrics, although that is exactly what she was designing: A place for anyone with five dollars per day. I'm guessing she would be landlady / co recipient on SSI checks because that is the only way that a homeless person would be in the same place for more than two weeks that costs five dollars per day; if it's not free what's the point? How far can you get on seven hundred dollars per month, if you are down to Five Hundred after rent? The lady said that it would be a start, and people would get back on their feet with dignity. Anyone can rent a room in a boarding house for 150, there is one on every street in Westminster, Garden Grove, and apparently not Anaheim. Dignity is when someone gives you a hand, rather than taking your check. Middle class people spend five hundred dollars on food per week. What does the homeless lady eat in her room after the first week's five hundred bucks is gone, and for that matter, what does she use for the six dollars that a laundry costs, per week; how will she pay her bills, a small storage on the outside costs 150 per month. What kind of crappy storage does Bag Lady get for forty bucks per month at the kibbutz. Middle Class Lady kept saying homelessness causes drug addiction, I wonder why it never occurred to her that it's the suburbs that cause drug addiction. She is the carrier; Middleclassedness is the cause. She was articulate and stunningly beautiful, so I am guessing that she does not worry her lovely head about pesky things like reality. She was at the Anaheim City Counsel Meeting: I was impressed by her Gloria Vanderbilt elegance, in jeans, and then she said something that amazed me, "I survived being married to a cop." Whoa, it takes more than a miracle to get out of that kind of horrifically abusive relationship, and she did it with a daughter. Fifty percent of battered cop wives and murdered, cops call it suicide, and everyone else looks the other way. Her name is Nancy. She lived, she raised a daughter, a productive educated member of society, who is happily married, and she now has devised, through her own resources, a plan to implement that will end homelessness. Read it and weep dirt-bag-in-blue, your casualty count does not include your x-wife. I am going to give her Dwight's funding plan, so that she can go to the fed and skip the City Council, they appear to be on heroin, but perhaps they are just stupid, in a sort of consensus of laziness. Or maybe they don't want to do a former cop wife any favors. (I wish that they would do us all a favor; stop signing his pay check and fire his sorry ass).

Later there was a riot and all of the Trump supporters were thrown out, finally. Someone asked me if I wanted to speak, I said, "Can I lie and say that I'm not white, by way of disclaiming the angry xenophobe section that got the boot?" I was far too ashamed of the white people to take the podium: Hi, I'm Nancy Wood, and I'm not white. I would never practice hate speech at a Council meeting, and just so you know, Muslims were among the founders of this country, as well as Christians... That's what I would have said, and stuff about the 'Melting Pot,' but I was too horrified by the legacy of white people to say anything.

This is the pond at Mile Square Park, I draw here until 3:30 PM, and then I go across the street to Mom Supermarket to get a fish, which they fry:

Sometimes I meet friends there, or I have coffee at the Deli, I try to accept alms for two hours every day: The Market is Buddhist, that is to say that they have a section of vegetarian food made for and by the local Kosher Buddhist temples. I don't have the patients to accept alms every day, I cheat and only stand there, bored silly, on Saturday and Sunday evenings. But I used to go more often, over the past three years. Before that I was at Saigon City Market, for ten years, until two White Tiger gangster girls dressed like nuns showed up and started stealing kids and dogs out of cars. Then a third showed up, and now she did that at Mom Supermarket, so, the property owner hired a security company to arrest anyone who they saw accessing the public thoroughfare, meeting the description of a cleric, or transient (I'm a double hitter).

The security company is not American; perhaps they do not know the law here, but the cops should. Be that as it may, the security guard called the cops to arrest me, the property manager stated that the owner had signed a Citizen's Arrest Form, (which happens when the cops show up with the form and tell the owner to sign, if the owner says no, the cop begs a lot until he gets a signature). No one knows why cops and merchants work together like that here; it's fascism, most countries don't want the cops and the merchants trying to own each other. Maybe cops and merchants have not figured that out.

When I got to jail I made the cops read California Penal Code section 602 (t) (1&2). Notice how tricky the citation is, they termed the charge a misdemeanor, when in fact it's a felony, and dropped off subsection 2, because it states that the criteria for a violation of section (t) is a prior conviction at that specific location. I have no convictions at any location. Subsections are inseparable from sections.

California Penal Code section 602: Trespass

(t) (1) Entering upon private property, including contiguous land,

real property, or structures thereon belonging to the same owner,

whether or not generally open to the public, after having been

informed by a peace officer at the request of the owner, the owner's

agent, or the person in lawful possession, and upon being informed by

the peace officer that he or she is acting at the request of the

owner, the owner's agent, or the person in lawful possession, that

the property is not open to the particular person; or refusing or

failing to leave the property upon being asked to leave the property

in the manner provided in this subdivision.

(2) This subdivision applies only to a person who has been convicted
of a crime committed upon the particular private property.
California Penal Code section 602: Trespass “...Subdivisions shall not apply to persons on the premises who are engaging in activities protected by the California or United States Constitution.”

Are the dirt-bags-in-blue creative or just malevolent. In any event I went to Internal Affairs and the IA officer in charge said that the cops made a "training day procedural error." Did they now, well, their trainee did not find their "error" to be even slightly buyable. So, call it "training" if you will, but it's more like buffoonery.

"Train This!"

A day after I was arrested, I returned to the Market having written an informative synopsis of applicable law, which both the Market and the Security Guard rebuffed. They, like the cops, have a policy of invalidating the truth. I call it, "Talk To The Hand," from 80's comedy genre, where people would simply hold a hand in your face like a stop sign, if they wanted you to know they are not listening. The arrest was a very low IQ version of that, in which the cops just reiterated their recreation of the truth and facts to rebut my accurate iteration. They looked and sounded ridiculous, the cute one actually said, "this is such bullshit we should not even be here." None of the other three heard him. At least he is not stupid, then his idiot fool corporal told him he that he had done a great job of arresting me (his first arrest).

The other cops don't want him there because he is smart and honest; their way of getting rid of him is to start him off with a false arrest, it will keep him in fed court for eight years, and guarantee that he will never get a promotion.

I told them, before we got to the police station, that they could mitigate their errors by the fact that cops are allowed to make mistakes, but they claimed that it's proppe to change the charge from felony to misdemeanor and excerpt sections from subsections and subsections from each other. (Then why don't they stand alone in the first place, duh.) I mentioned that whatever they call it, "proper," the judge will call it False Arrest. As soon as I got out of jail I made an Internal Affairs citizen's complaint, in it I mentioned that the trainee didn't fall for the skulduggery. He may eventually outrank his victimizers, that's my guess, for now they think that he is their dupe. There were four cops but I have pictures of 3 because the forth was so expert at ducking out of the picture; a black haired weasely white guy, very young.

I taped the entire thing:

Tape Recording: 170401-1495

I'll post the transcript here as soon as I have it finished. Federal Code Section 1983 False Arrest prosecutions are Civil which means that they start at three million dollars in damages, plus about that amount in court costs. And that is what your tax dollars go to when you let your local PD stack itself with dirt-bags-in-blue.

This Officer is Grabbing My Camera

This is Mr. Carlos or Corona, I have to check my notes, the security guard.

I think he was saying that he had arrested me, I told him that he is not a police officer. The other guards did a lot of finger pointing and Spanglish pejoratives.

This is the Market manager

This is the officer who ducks out of every picture:

NANCY WOOD

517 W. Struck Street Orange, CA 92867

nancywoodemail @ email. com

Arrestee

ORANGE COUNTY SUPERIOR COURT

CENTRAL JUSTICE CENTER

700 CIVIC CENTER DRIVE WEST

SANTA ANA, CALIF. 92702

NANCY CAROLYN WOOD

Arrestee

Mom Supermarket

SAPD, Landhousing Security

HON: ________________

COURTROOM: ________

DECLARATION IN SUPPORT OF

FEDERAL CODE SECTION 1983 False Arrest

TO ALL PARTIES AND THEIR ATTORNEYS OF RECORD:

I Nancy Wood DECLARE: Under penalty of perjury that this entire declaration is true and correct.

BUSINESS OWNERS ARE NOT ALLOWED TO REFUSE SERVICE BASED ON ARBITRARY REASONS: SPURNED PATRONS ARE ALLOWED TO SUE.

Because of the fraudulent 911 emergency call, made on March 23, 2017, from Mom Supermarket at 5111 W. Edinger Street, in Santa Ana, California, Nancy Wood was unlawfully arrested, and defamed . The officers arrested Nancy Wood for felony trespassing, under California Penal Code section 602: Trespass (T) (1 and2) and threatened to arrest her again if she returned, insisting that the Market, and Property Owner have the “Right” to refuse service to anyone as well as the right to evict anyone from the property, further asserting, “The property owner does not want you here,” and further stating that the Market had signed 'citizen arrest' forms. Landhousing security reiterated the Edict.

REFUSAL OF SERVICE IS NOT A “RIGHT:” IT IS HARASSMENT; RETAIL STORES ARE PUBLIC ACCOMMODATIONS: California has statutorily adopted the common law of England as the rule for decisions: Which states, “A private owner of a public amusement is not allowed to exclude any person for 'any reason,” see, e.g., Donnell v. The State, 48 Miss. 661, 681 (1873)

EDICTS ARE NOT POLICIES: Policies that would allow business owners to refuse service based on arbitrary reasons are not enforceable nor endorsed by City officials: Because spurned patrons are allowed to sue.

The strip mall property owner, Mom Market, the Arresting Officers, and Landhousing Security, invoked Edicts in the absence of a crime, and, in the furtherance of the crime of Disturbance of the Peace, and applied the Edict at the expense of Nancy Wood, therefore invoking a pretextual 'right 'of refusal of service' and cross purposedto banish observers of criminal activity, such as Nancy Wood, making the 'right' of refusal of service a criminal Edict: One must conclude that the purpose of the Unlawful Arrest was to further criminal rackets in the parking lot from which police officers, security guards, and store managers recieve kick-backs. .

In the absence of proper procedure the police and merchants effectively have the sovereign authority to threaten and harm individuals who are unresponsive to personal demands, thereby extracting habitual obeisance rather than civil obedience. The Fourteenth Amendment “denotes not merely freedom from bodily restraint but also the right of the individual... to engage in any of the common occupations of life... ." Meyer v Nebraska (1923) -Justice McReynolds.

RELIEF / RECOVERY OF DAMAGES

Federal Code section 1983: False Arrest, allows for the recovery of monetary damages in the amount of three million dollars.

Santa Ana Police Department, Mom Supermarket, and Landhousing Security, without cause or any criteria for an arrest, and in the absence of an investigation, for a violation of California Penal Code 602 (t) (1) and (2), a felony, having found no violation of law, recklessly confabulated a violation of law where there is none and postulated a trespass violation without basis, having found no evidence of any violation of law by Nancy Wood did guarantee charges against her, and insisted that she be charged and arrested, in the absence of a crime or criteria for a violation of law, did maliciously Defame Nancy Wood with the aspersion that she met the criteria for a felony arrest, and did reiterate aspersions in publicly accessible Police Department Reports, tape recordings and Citizen's Arrest forms. A reputation is a valuable asset under the law. Nancy Wood’s individual interests in her reputation was harmed, without justification, by the Arrest, of April 23, 2017, in response to a fraudulent 911 call, at the Mom's Market 5111 W. Edinger Street, in Santa Ana, California, where she draws, engages in assembly, and practices religious freedom, with Buddhist friends, and had shopped for three years, without issue or incident.