Monday, August 30, 2010

"Sabotaging Ballistics Immensely": North Carolina's SBI is no "CSI"


Hotep,

Various sources are revealing inconsistencies within the State Bureau of Investigations’ (SBI) crime lab. One particular fire arms analyst in North Carolina is under scrutiny for doctoring evidence to corroborate investigating officer’s theories of how a crime may have occurred and who the perpetrator should be. Real talk.

Society has to ask: How many more forensic scientists are practicing this injustice?
Then you’d have to wonder: How many of these tainted cases resulted in death sentences?
Eventually you’d consider the racial justice factor: How many of these cases had white victims and black defendants? Feel me?

Without a doubt, the integrity of the SBI is suspect. The average juror has no idea what the credentials of an expert witness should be. So, when a SBI agent takes the stand in a capital case, the district attorney allows them to reel off their forensic credentials in a way in which the jurors are willing to believe anything the expert witness says.

The verbal resume of the expert witness may be so convincing that when the defense questions the credentials of an expert witness, the jurors may take offense, because they want to believe that this person on the stand is a straight forward expert witness. Na mean?

Well, being considered as an expert doesn’t mean that you’re always right and it doesn’t mean you’re always honest either. Ya heard?
Check out these stories:

Nuff Said,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2010 by Leroy Mann

Monday, August 23, 2010

Minority Report

Hotep,


The Obama administration has been a giant step for minorities in this country. Our 44th president struggled with his identity, an absentee father, and poverty early in life. His success story, along with his strong family support system, is something all Americans should take pride in. President Obama’s pre-political predicaments allow him to relate to the plights of any minority in this country, poor whites, Latino immigrants and women without health insurance. Feel me?

With that said, allow me to introduce you to, let’s call him Juror X. He’s an elderly black man, who moved to North Carolina after giving 20 plus years of service to the state of New York as a corrections officer. Juror X endured some traumatic experiences as a corrections officer. Once, he was held at gunpoint while being removed from his car by former prisoners of a correctional facility where he worked, a unique circumstance, indeed.

But, what made Juror X unique to me was the fact that he was the only potential juror, of African American descent, that the district attorney would allow my defense counsel to question. For the record, I didn’t want Juror X on my jury. Real talk. But my lead counsel, who was a black man, told me this would probably be our only chance to get a person of color on the jury. So, I followed his advice.

Juror X didn’t bother to tell us about his life altering experiences as a corrections officer, harboring these images as he sat through hours of testimony and speculation about me allegedly kidnapping a white woman, and taking her car. Na mean?

Being the sole person of color on the jury, Juror X displayed highly intense emotions during the jury’s deliberations. When the jurors doubted my role as the perpetrator of this crime, Juror X educated them on his personal experience as a victim.

A juror’s duty is to view the evidence at hand. Not fill in the blanks. Juror X, a minority on my jury was able to sway the perception of certain jurors, by telling them about his kidnapping incident, an action that totally violates his duties as a juror and eventually sends me to death row.

The conclusion of this minority report is simple. President Obama is a man that all Americans can be proud of. As for Juror X, Well, let’s just say he’s a minority at the opposite end of the spectrum. Ya heard?



Nuff Said,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2010 by Leroy E. Mann

Monday, August 16, 2010

Keep on Swinging

Hotep,

Inspiration can be obtained from the gravest of circumstances. I recently gained some inspiration when I read the sad story of Philly native and former WBC light heavy weight champ, Matthew Saad Muhammad. His bio is the epitome of having “a life full of acquaintances” (How many of us have them? Posted 7/5/10), a true rags to riches, to rags story, indeed.

Reigning atop the boxing world from 1979 until 1981, he pummeled opponents in pure pugilistic fashion, paving his road to the riches with a bright future on the horizon. Today, at age 56, he lives at the Ridge Center. The largest homeless shelter in Philly. He says he left that game with millions. His cheese was given away, stolen or spent on an entourage of 39 people/acquaintances. Holla if ya hear me “Iron”’ Mike Tyson.

Saad Muhammad (originally know as Matthew Franklin) was abandoned as a youngsta. Some Catholic nuns found him on the Ben Franklin Parkway. They named him Matthew, a tribute to the great writer of the first of the four gospels in the New Testament. His last name was a reminder of where he was found. Needless to say, the pride of a champ never dies. He’s been knocked down, but not out. He exhibits the spirit of a true Philly brawler, which is an inspiration in its own right. Na mean?

The champ is going to be alright, no doubt. I watched him fight in his heyday. Warriors like him just keep on swinging, in the ring or out, a true testament of a man’s character not being defined by how he handles the best of times, but how he responds to adversity in the darkest times. Feel me?

Saad Muhammad is only one half of this inspirational story. Jose Espinosa, a fellow resident at the Ridge Center, first told Muhammad’s story in a monthly newspaper called, “One Step Away.” Is it just me or does Jose sound like someone we know? A writer, down on his luck, but making the most of his situation. Using his gift to facilitate others in need of a morale ascension while informing the masses about good people who may have been eclipsed by a negative situation.

Keep pushing the pen Jose. Our ink is changing lives. That’s what’s up!

I’m out like a convict on parole.

One,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2010 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Monday, August 9, 2010

My Kunta Kinte Thing

Hotep,

14 summers, the extent of Kobe ‘Bean” Bryant’s pro basketball career.

14 summers is an accurate timetable for an infant becoming a teenager.

I’ve been behind the wall for 14 summers, 13 of them on death row.

Before I went inside, the summer was my least favorite time of the year.

I mean, I enjoyed the perks of summer;

No school,

Six Flags Great Adventure,

Females dressed in less,

And, even my birthday, July 22nd.

But, the summer wasn’t my favorite season.

Well, after spending 14 summers in the box, that perspective has changed.

Word is bond.

It was 94 degrees today. I went into the sweltering heat and gave the Creator a 30 minute Kunta Kinte (running) exhibition.

For those youngstas out there who don’t know who Kunta Kinte was, pick up the dvd of Alex Haley’s epic story, ‘Roots: The Saga of an American Family.’

As much as I wanted to continue, the heat index wouldn’t allow much more. Na mean?

The Kunta Kinte thing just opens my mental, and gives me a new lease on life.

In fact, these words came to me, during that 30 minute run.

An open mind, clear lungs and a healthy heart keeps my focus clearer than your camera lens. Ya heard?

As much as I love the team concept of basketball, doing the Kunta Kinte thing gives me a greater sense of achievement. Real Talk.

You see, on the court, I’m always the point guard, facilitating my teammates and giving them the best opportunities to shine.

But, when I’m in Kunta Kinte mode, I’m the superstar. I’m the coach. I’m the team’s best 6th man.

I’m even the crowd that gives my valiant efforts a standing ovation. Feel me?

The last five minutes of every run, I envision myself running the Ben Franklin Parkway in Philly.

The Art Museum stairs are in my sights and my pace increases.

I ascend the Art Museum stairs in true “Rocky” fashion.

My run ends with me at the pinnacle of my existence, exhaling all negativity and inhaling the taste of victory. Ya heard?

A sense of victory and individual achievement is what the summer season offers me; an opportunity to stare down my environment from the pinnacle of my accomplishments.

14 summers in the box has cultivated the antidote for life outside of it. That’s what’s up!

One,

Mannofstat
Copyright © 2010 by Leroy Mann

Monday, August 2, 2010

Samuel Family Ties



Hotep,

Seeing my parents is always a blessing.

Our visits are never wasted on idle conversations.

The chatty chicks from “The View” have nothing on us when we begin to explore the hot topics in the news.

But today, the 90 minute duration of our visit was spent appreciating what family really means.

I can’t imagine how life would be without my fam.

Somehow, some way, we all complement one another.

Each of us offers something the other needs.

Our family unity is like that of a bicycle.

At times, the spokes may become damaged or even break, but the wheel never stops spinning. Na mean?

This year our family reunion will be in Philly (August 13th thru 15th).

It coincides with my Pop’s birthday (8/15).

So they’re gonna do it big!

It crushes me to know that I won’t be able to partake in the festivities physically; seeing my cousins, hugging my aunts, politicking with my uncles and kissing the sweet face of my forever young Nana. Real talk.

I can’t make it this year, Samuel fam.

Hear my words and you’ll know that my heart is with you and my voice will forever be in your ear. Ya heard?

R.I.P Mr. Julius Samuel, aka Pop-Pop.

One Love,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2010 by Leroy Elwood Mann