Philip Rosmarin

I’m just a plainspoken Colorado criminal defense lawyer, but the way I see it…

Have yourself a groovy little Christmas, courtesy of 500 Year Flood, who are (right to left) Fili and Kay-Kay Filizzola; and co-writer/artist OHEI.

Listen for free to “Christmas in L.A. (or NY).”

You can also stream it (or even buy it, for just a buck, if you want a little piece of holiday heaven to call your own) on Apple Music or Spotify.

What’s all this got to do with criminal justice? I’ll tell you: that reindeer up there is my daughter. Sometimes you gotta make your own justice.

I’m just a plainspoken Colorado criminal defense lawyer, but the way I see it…

God save the United States of America. These chimps won’t.

I’m just a plainspoken Colorado criminal defense lawyer, but the way I see it…

Have there ever been so many of the President’s men convicted of felonies during their (fake mob) boss’s first (and dear God only) term of office?

Trump adviser Roger Stone, who will sashay into custody next year with a prison-ready tat of that other criminal president Richard Nixon on his back, is the latest but not likely the last.

Here is a list of these bad boys, along with some of the very nice things the capo di tutti capi has had to say about those he admits knowing.

Roger Stone, convicted of seven counts of obstruction, lying to Congress, and witness tampering: “A good guy…so loyal and so wonderful.” Awaiting sentence.

Alex van der Zwaan, Dutch lawyer and Ukraine political consultant, convicted of lying to special counsel investigators. Thirty days in prison.

Richard Pinedo, convicted of selling fake online identities to some of the Russians Trump invited to help him win office. Six months in prison.

George Papadopoulos, Trump campaign adviser, convicted of lying to the FBI: “Excellent guy.” Fourteen days in prison.

Paul Manafort, Trump campaign chairman and another Ukraine connection, convicted (twice) of five counts of tax fraud, two counts of bank fraud, and one count of failing to disclose a hidden foreign bank account: “A respected man…who’s a good man also, by the way…a very decent man.” Seven and a half years in prison.

Michael Cohen, Trump’s personal lawyer, convicted of tax fraud, bank fraud, and sundry campaign finance violations he testified were at the direction of his client: “a fine person….who I have always like and respected.” Three years in prison.

Michael Flynn, national security adviser, convicted of lying to the FBI: “He’s a very good person…a fine person…great guy, great man.” Awaiting sentencing.

Rick Gates, Trump campaign deputy chairman, convicted of conspiracy and lying to the FBI: part of “a great group of people.” Awaiting sentencing.

Plus, thirteen Russian nationals, three Russian entities, twelve Russian military intelligence officers — none of whose names I can spell — and Konstantin Kilimnik, Manafort pal and yet another Ukraine connection, all under indictment breathlessly awaiting arrest.

As the President says, just a great group of people.

I’m just a plainspoken Colorado criminal defense lawyer, but the way I see it…

War is the greatest of humanity’s crimes against itself. We prove ourselves, year after bloody year, enthusiastic serial killers. For money. For land. For God and country.

Unsurprisingly then, perhaps, Veterans Day, like Memorial Day, and even the Fourth of July, always makes me a little uncomfortable. We’re supposed to honor, and give our thanks to, the men and women whose lives are used and often sacrificed by their leaders for those causes.

Most of the men and women well deserve the honor; some of their leaders do not.

Beside the fourteen thousand lies the current Commander-in-Chief has told them, stands one frank truth he has graciously shared: that if they die in the Middle East, it will not be to protect democracy, but to protect the oil.

So I have mixed feeling on days like this.

My own military service was insignificant, in time and in space. Barely a year. It has stayed with me all the years after. In mostly small ways.

Fifty years, and I still wear my dress shirts in a military tuck; make my bed with military corners. Still write the date 11 Nov 2019. Still carry any burden in my left hand to leave my right free to salute.

Still carry, too, one brief memory of war. We murdered a village. One of many during the secret bombing of Cambodia. The after-action photographs were worse than the bombing. A soundless shrieking horror of scorched and shredded old men, women, children. A baby’s blackened lips still attached to the breast of its mother’s torso, which wasn’t attached to anything at all.

Years later, I was taught a Buddhist practice that involved visualizing myself standing on the shore of a river, and being greeted on that shore by the lineage of people whose lives led to my own. My teachers, my friends, my relations, my own sweet mother. All the people I had known.

But those were not the people who greeted me.

In my visualization, I stood by the river, and there appeared, next to me, not my mother, not my grandparents, not my friends, not all the people I had loved, but the Cambodian bombing dead, men, women, children, all the dead, more than a hundred of them.

This Veterans Day, and every day, I remember the dead. All the dead, standing with me on the riverbank.

Thank you for your service.

I’m just a plainspoken Colorado criminal defense lawyer, but the way I see it…

Stroll down these streets.

Feel like a feather.

Go ahead. Click on the words (“these streets”) in that first sentence. Or stream it on whatever service you use. Just look for 500 Year Flood.

Do it.

It will make you feel alive.