Tagged: She-Hulk

Bob Ingersoll: The Law Is A Ass #333: SHE-HULK’S TRYING THE CASE AND OUR PATIENCE

Columns / The Law Is A Ass
November 7, 2014

Let’s see now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted? Interrupted by me when I realized last week’s column was long enough, so decided to split it into two columns. Oh yes, She-Hulk V 3 # 9.

She-Hulk v 3 # 9 is Part Two of the three-part story, “The Good Old Days.” The titular good old days refer to a dock riot in Los Angeles in November of 1940, if that’s “good,” I think someone needs to invest in a new dictionary. The good old days also refer to the fact that during the incident Sam Folger died and now the grandchildren of Sam’s brother, Harold, are suing Steve (Captain America) Rogers for the wrongful death of their great-granduncle. Again, “good?” If you can’t afford a new dictionary, then at least bookmark dictionary.com.

Jennifer (She-Hulk) Walters was representing Cap and Matt (Daredevil) Murdock was representing the Foglers. Matt began his trial with the testimony of Officer McKinley, who told the jury what Harold Fogler said on his death bed sometime in 2014. Here’s Harold’s deathbed confession, as recounted by Officer McKinley.

In 1940, Harold left his mother and brother back in Brooklyn http://brooklyn.com/index.php and moved to Los Angeles. He fell in with a bad crowd. In early November, 1940, the bad crowd met in a warehouse near the Los Angeles docks to plan some trouble they were going to cause there. Harold stepped outside for some air where he was confronted by his little brother, Sam, who had left medical school and come across the country to accost Harold. Sam urged Harold to come back home to their heartbroken mother. Sam brought a friend with him, Steve Rogers, who was still in his pre-Captain America days.

Steve also started in lecturing Harold. And wouldn’t stop. Not even when the bad crowd hauled them into the warehouse. The boss tried to shut Steve up by pointing a Luger at Sam and threatening to kill Sam, if Steve kept talking. Steve kept talking. The boss killed Sam.

Now based on this account of what happened in Los Angels in 1940, Harold Fogler’s grand children were suing Steve Rogers, A.K.A. Captain America, for the wrongful death of their great-granduncle. They said Steve’s “wrongful act” and “neglect” caused Sam’s death.

I say what wrongful act or neglect?

In all U.S. jurisdictions including California, a negligence suit such as wrongful death has four basic elements which must be proven. The defendant must have owed the plaintiff a duty. The defendant must have breached that duty. The breach must have been the proximate cause of some injury to the plaintiff. And the plaintiff must have been damaged by said injuries.

I’ll tackle the injury element first, because it’s the easiest. Sam was killed. He suffered an injury. Death. Death’s the ultimate injury. But did Sam’s family suffer any damages from that injury?

But Sam’s not suing. He’s dead. I’m not so sure how Sam’s injury translates to Sam’s great-grandnephews. The family maintains that Sam would have become a doctor, a successful surgeon and provided for Harold’s family. But can they prove that?

Yes, Sam was in medical school but no one knows Sam would have become a doctor. He could have flunked out. It was 1940, so he could have been drafted and died in World War II. If Sam survived the war and became a doctor, maybe he would have practiced in some rural community in Appalachia where his patients paid him in pigs. Even if Sam had become the greatest and richest surgeon in the history of the United States, he had no legal obligation to provide financial assistance to his brother, his brother’s children, or his brother’s grandchildren. Any financial damages in this suit were speculative. At best.

Speculative damages was only the bad news for the Fogler family. The worse news was that as difficult as proving damages would be, that’s the least of their worries.

The Foglers had to prove Steve had a duty to Sam Fogler and that Steve breached his duty. We know Steve didn’t breach a duty by killing Sam, because the boss killed Sam. The Fogler’s theory of breach of duty was that Steve had a duty to stop talking when the boss threatened to kill Sam and by continuing to talk, Steve negligently caused Sam’s death. As far as I understand the law, Steve had no such duty and, thus, didn’t breach such duty.

The bad crowd committed several crimes against Steve and Sam. Kidnaping. Criminal Threats. Probably more. But those are enough for our purposes, I say in a blatant attempt to limit the amount of research I have to do. No one has a duty to submit to a crime.

If criminals running a protection racket threaten to bomb a store unless the owner pays them money, the owner has no duty to pay the criminals money. If the owner refuses to pay and the criminals bomb the store killing one of the store’s employees, the owner is not liable to the employee’s family for wrongful death.

The owner had no duty to submit to the criminals’ extortion demands. And, because he had no duty to submit, he did not negligently cause the employee’s death by breaching a duty. One can’t breach a duty one didn’t have in the first place. Indeed, most jurisdictions would call the owner a hero for standing up to the extortionists, not a tortfeasor who caused a wrongful death.

The owner’s refusal to pay protection may have resulted in the employee’s death, but it didn’t cause the employee’s death. The only people who caused the employee’s death were the criminals who committed the superseding, intervening act of intentionally bombing the store. They’re the only ones who should be sued for wrongful death.

In the same way, Steve had no duty to submit to the gang’s threats. So there’s no breach of a duty in his acts. Moreover, Steve’s refusal to submit didn’t cause Sam’s death. The boss, a superceding and intervening cause, caused Sam’s death by intentionally shooting him. The Folgers’ case is weak, on three of the four elements for negligence. Steve didn’t breach any duty to Sam by his actions. Steve’s actions didn’t cause Sam’s death. And any monetary damages Sam’s great-grandnephews may have suffered are, as I said earlier, speculative.

Personally, I can’t imagine why any lawyer agreed to take the case in the first place. I especially can’t see why Matt Murdock agreed to take the case. The world now knows that Matt is Daredevil. Matt was just disbarred in New York for, among other things, agreeing to represent a man who wanted to sue Daredevil despite the massive conflict of interests that’s inherent in suing yourself. I can’t imagine why Matt would set himself up for another potential conflict of interests complaint – not to mention a legal malpractice – by agreeing to sue one of his best friends. That’s hardly, as the Code of Professional Responsibility put it, avoiding the appearance of impropriety.

The story tried to explain why Matt agreed to take the case. It was because Steve asked him to take the case. According to Matt, Steve argued, “if I’d ever been his friend, if I cared about what he’d done as Captain America, then I wouldn’t pull my punches.” I don’t buy it. The explanation, that is. I bought the comic. Don’t go accusing me of shoplifting.

I don’t care if Steve and Matt were BFFs, field trip buddies, and even prom dates, Matt shouldn’t have fallen for Steve’s friendship guilt trip by taking the case. Matt should have told Cap, “I can’t take the case. It’s a violation of my professional ethics. And if you’ve ever been my friend, you wouldn’t put me into this situation by asking me to commit malpractice.”

Well that’s it for Part Two of “The Good Old Days.” I promise I won’t write about She-Hulk V 3 # 9 next week. But as it was only Part Two of “The Good Old Days,” I can’t promise that I won’t write about She-Hulk v 3 # 10 http://marvel.wikia.com/She-Hulk_Vol_3_10 and Part Three of “The Good Old Days” in a few weeks.

Can’t promise? I can practically guarantee it.

Bob Ingersoll: THE LAW IS A ASS #332: SHE-HULK’S SCIENTIFIC METHOD IS TRIALIN’ ERROR

Columns / The Law Is A Ass
October 31, 2014

Sorry, but if your bucket list included “Read a comic book that has an explanation of the dying declaration exception to the hearsay rule on Page One,” you can’t cross it off your list yet. Because, despite what you read in She-Hulk v 3 # 9, you still haven’t read a comic book which has an explanation of the dying declaration on Page One.

She-Hulk v 3 # 9 is the middle chapter of a three-part story about Steve (Captain America) Rogers being sued for wrongful death in Los Angeles over an incident that happened on the L.A. docks in the year 1940. Cap was represented by Jennifer (She-Hulk) Walters and the Foglers, the family suing Cap, were represented by Matt (Daredevil) Murdock. Chapter One in issue 8 was the set-up. In issue 9, the middle chapter, the trial is about to begin.

So there on Page One Matt was giving his opening statement to the jury and defined the dying declaration exception to the hearsay rule for them. He told the jury that ordinarily a person may not testify about “what they heard someone say,” because it’s hearsay. Which isn’t accurate. I mean, come on, Matt used a simple sentence composed of only one- or two-syllable words. When has the law ever expressed anything with a simple sentence using only one- or two-syllable words?

The California Evidence Code defines hearsay in Section 1200 and it’s more complex than Matt let on. California defines hearsay as “a statement that was made other than by the witness while testifying at the hearing and that is offered to prove the truth of the matter stated.” In order for a statement to be hearsay, it must 1) have been made by someone other than the witness, 2) must have been uttered outside of the courtroom, and 3) must be offered into evidence in order to prove the truth of the fact contained in the hearsay.

Let’s see if I can’t translate that into some simple sentences that use words of only one or two syllables for you. First, the statement must be an out-of-court statement. That’s easy, if a witness says something in court than it isn’t hearsay, it’s testimony.

(Damn! “Testimony.” Four syllables. Okay, I can’t use words of only one or two syllables. Some polysyllabic words will sneak into my explanation. But I promise they’ll be simpler polysyllabic words than polysyllabic.)

Second the statement must have been made by someone other than the witness who’s testifying. If Linus is a witness, he can testify as to what he told Lucy even if he said it when he wasn’t in the courtroom, because he’s the witness. But Linus can’t testify as to what Lucy told him.

The reason for this second prong of the hearsay definition is because if the person who actually made the statement isn’t testifying, that person’s demeanor can’t be seen and evaluated by the jury and the person can’t be cross-examined. (By the way, we call the person who made the statement the declarant in the law game and consider ourselves as having been pretty straightforward for using only a three-syllable word.) So, if the witness, Linus, testifies as to what the declarant, Lucy, told him, Lucy, isn’t subject to cross-examination and the statement is excluded as hearsay. But if Linus is testifying as to what he told Lucy, then Linus – the declarant – is available to be cross-examined and the statement isn’t hearsay.

The third and final prong of the hearsay definition is that the statement is being offered for the truth of the matter asserted in the statement. If Lucy and Linus were in a car accident then, later, Charlie was talking to Linus and said he saw the accident and that Lucy ran the red light, Linus could not testify as to what Charlie said in order to prove that Lucy ran the red light. That would be using the statement to prove of the matter asserted; that Lucy ran the red light.

Matt may have given the jury an over-simplified version of hearsay, but that wasn’t the worst of his sins. Matt next told the jury that he was about to offer testimony about a dying declaration, which is admissible because dying declarations are an exception to the hearsay rule.

Okay, that much is true. The hearsay has lots of exceptions. California wrote something like 18 exceptions to the hearsay rule into its evidence code. One of those exceptions, found in Evidence Code § 1242, was the dying declaration exception. Matt was correct when he said that dying declaration is an admissible exception to the hearsay rule. Had he stopped there, all would have been fine. Matt didn’t stop there.

Matt went on to explain that a dying declaration is, “when a person makes a statement believing they are about to die … that testimony is admissible, because of a long-held belief that people cleave to the truth on their deathbeds.” Wrong!

In the aforementioned California Evidence Code § 1242 – Aforementioned is a simpler polysyllable than polysyllabic, isn’t it? – a dying declaration is defined as a statement made by a person who believes he is about to die, “respecting the cause and circumstances of his death.” So not every statement a person makes on his or her death bed is a dying declaration. To be a dying declaration, it must be a statement made about the cause and circumstances of the person’s impending death.

For example, if Linus comes upon Charlie, who’s lying on the ground near death, and Charlie tells him, “I”m dying because Lucy pulled the football out from under me and I broke my neck,” that would be a statement made about the cause and circumstances of Charlie’s impending death. It would be a dying declaration and would be admissible as a hearsay exception.

If, on the other hand, Charlie were to say, “I’m dying, and Lucy’s stupid psychiatric advice wasn’t worth five cents,” it would not be a statement about the cause and circumstances of his impending death and would not be admissible as an exception to the hearsay rule.

This becomes important in our story. In the middle of Matt’s opening statement – after he gave the jury legally incorrect definitions of both hearsay and dying declarations but before he explained to the jury that the case was a wrongful death case – Matt called his first witness.

And I move into a brief aside, before I can move on to what’s “important to our story.” I know of no court which allows a plaintiff’s attorney to call a witness in the middle of his opening statement. The attorneys give their opening statements covering what their case is about and what they expect the evidence will prove and then they present the evidence. I don’t think even the allegedly uber-liberal of Los Angeles County disrupt normal courtroom proceedings by letting witnesses testify in the middle of the opening statements. But that, as I said, was an aside. Let us hie ourselves back to what’s important to our story.

What’s important to our story is that in order to introduce his dying declaration, Matt called police officer McKinley, who was in the hospital at Harold Fogler’s bedside as Harold lay dying. McKinley testified as to what Harold Fogler said from his death bed.

He shouldn’t have been allowed to, but he did. As we saw in She-Hulk v 3 # 8, Harold died sometime in 2014, three weeks before the trial in this story started. She-Hulk v 3 # 8 also informed us that Harold died of old age and natural causes while he was in his nineties. Harold’s deathbed statement was about how his brother Sam died on the docks of Los Angeles sometime in 1940 and how Steve Rogers was responsible for Sam’s death.

Harold’s deathbed statement wasn’t a statement about the cause and circumstances of his impending death, it was a statement about the cause and circumstances of his brother’s death some 74 years earlier. It was not a dying declaration as defined in the California Evidence code, so would not have been admissible as an exception to the hearsay rule.

You’re probably wondering exactly what Officer McKinley did say about Harold Fogler’s statement, how Cap caused the death of Sam Fogler, and why Harold’s grandchildren are suing Cap for the wrongful death of their great-granduncle. I’m afraid you’ll have to wonder a little longer. This column is already long and I’ve only covered what happened on Page One. I’m going to need another column to cover the other 19 pages of the story. But before I leave you in the To-Be-Continued limbo, I did have one more thought.

One more thought: as I explained the last time I wrote about this story, Cap has repeatedly told She-Hulk that he doesn’t want to win on a technicality, so he probably wouldn’t have let She-Hulk object to the not-really-a-dying-declaration-so-not-actually-an-exception-to-the-hearsay-rule on the grounds that Harold’s statement wasn’t a really dying declaration so wasn’t actually an exception to the hearsay rule. Personally, I don’t think that’s a technicality, I think it’s a lawyer doing her job. But what do I know? I’m not the lawyer who wrote the story, I’m just the lawyer who’s trying to make sense of it.

I’ve got the harder job.

The Case For The Mini-Series

ComicMix Quick Picks
October 22, 2014

We’re seeing a lot of titles ending with short runs lately, both at Marvel and its Distinguished Competition. The good news is at least a bunch of new things were tried. DC has tried a lot of really interesting, even risky books in the New 52, and a lot have failed, but at least they’ve tried. And that deserves some credit.

The desire now is to pump out number one issues – the argument is they provide an easy jumping on point for readers, and collectors are drawn to them like Wimpy is drawn to free hamburgers. We see more and more series relaunched with new numbering, we see new spin-off titles, and not a lot of them last. We’ve already heard about two new Spider-titles, and one of the characters hasn’t even appeared yet. There’s no real way to know if a continuing Spider-Gwen book will sell, but here it comes.

It got me thinking… maybe the way things used to be done in comics wasn’t such a bad way.

Back in the day, TV shows didn’t always start as TV shows. They’d do a TV movie as a glorified pilot, to test the water. The Love Boat and Fantasy Island both got several TV movies before they went to series. Even today, popular shows like Sherlock and Doctor Who get a limited number of episodes in a series – 13 episodes a year for Doctor Who, three every so often for Sherlock. No chance for the characters to get tired, the stories are kept tight, no padding needed.

Likewise, comic books used to get new characters tried out in an anthology book like Showcase, and a series would get greenlit after the sales (and the fan letters) were tabulated. In the 80s, we’d see mini-series for those new characters. Robin got, what, three minis before he finally got a title. Lobo got an endless run of minis and one-shots before the regular book. There’s a lot of characters who started with a mini, and went on to long-lived regular titles

The point was, they’d try out new ideas, but in a smaller way, see how the sales did, and then pull the trigger on a regular series. And it gave them the same number of new numbers one issues that they like to put out there.

So I wonder, might a return to testing the water with mini or maxi-series “With an option” be worth a look?

The latest She-Hulk series is ending with issue 12. But say She-Hulk were originally sold as a 6 or 12-issue series instead of a continuing, It’s possible more people might have been enticed to try it, especially if it’s made clear that sales would add weight to making it a regular series. By the time issue six or seven came along, they’d probably have enough data to decide if a continuing series could sell. They could make the announcement in the last issue of the series, get people excited about the continuing, and get a solicitation out shortly after.

Of course, I expect there would be people who’d think “Meh, it’s only a mini-series” and skip it as well.

Heck, perhaps there are some characters who would work better just in minis, albeit a regular number of them. The Great Lakes Avengers worked (IMHO) better in small doses, a single storyline at a time. As much hope they put on Alpha in the Spider-titles, he got a mini-seres, and save for one or two cameos, we’ve not seen anything else. The mini was a good test of the waters.

As much fun as a Squirrel Girl title could be, I’m not 100% sure the title will hold long-term. Like She-Hulk, I fear we’d get maybe 12 issues. But a six-issue mini, maybe one a year? I think it’d work well. I think there’s a lot of characters who could carry a short run with a one-and-done story.

They’re a good opportunity to test out new talent as well. See how long a new penciller needs to get six issues in the can, see how well they could handle a regular series, or if the “when it’s finished” model works better. Some of Joe Quesada’s earliest work was The Ray mini-series at DC.

Who do you think would make a good character for a mini-series, as opposed to a regular run?

BOB INGERSOLL: THE LAW IS A ASS #328 SHE-HULK HAS TO TRIAL LITTLE HARDER

Columns / The Law Is A Ass
October 3, 2014

It was like one of those puzzle pictures we used to read in Highlights Magazine in the dentist’s office waiting room. The “What’s wrong with this picture?” one. But with one major difference. In this case, the picture is She-Hulk v 3 # 8, and the answer to what’s wrong with it is, not much of anything. Still, I want to show I can waste as much of our time writing about how a comic book story got the law right as I can writing about how it got the law wrong. So here goes.

She-Hulk v 3 # 8 started in a Los Angeles hospital where a dying nonagenarian made a death bed confession regarding “something terrible he needed to get off his chest.” No, not his “I heart Snooki” tattoo. Unfortunately, the story immediately cut to three weeks later, so we don’t know to what the dying man confessed.

After said three weeks transition, Steve Rogers, the once and future Captain America – Seriously, does anyone really think Falcon will still be Captain America when the third Cap movie comes out in two years? – visited the law office of Jennifer (She-Hulk) Walters. Cap told Jennifer why he came, but not us readers. Again with the keeping secrets from the readers? All we know is that Cap’s being sued in Los Angeles Superior Court for wrongful death, because of something that happened in Los Angeles in 1940. The rest will be parceled out slowly over the course of this multi-part storyline. It’s enough to make you wish that Lost never got on the air.

Jennifer suggested filing a motion to dismiss the suit on the grounds that Cap died a few years ago and a person can’t be sued post-mortem. Cap nixed the idea. He didn’t want to win the case on a technicality. Which is just as well, as Cap didn’t really die. He had been shot with a gun that caused him to phase in and out of time and space and everyone thought he was dead; but he wasn’t. Filing a motion to dismiss that argued Cap had died when he hadn’t would have been a fraud on the court. Matt Murdock may play so fast and loose with legal ethics that he’d argue a motion based on a fact he knew wasn’t true; I’m not so sure about Jen.

Jen also considered the statute of limitations. Both state and federal jurisdictions have statutes which command that causes of action must begin within a certain number of years after the event which caused the cause of action. If the lawsuit isn’t filed within the statutory limit, it is procedurally barred. Hence the name statute of limitations.

Statutes of limitations exist to protect defendants from the possibility that the evidence necessary to defend themselves has been lost, destroyed, or forgotten in the intervening years. In California, the statute of limitations for wrongful death is set forth in California Code of Civil Procedure § 331.5 and it’s two years. Which means the time to file the wrongful death suit against Cap expired in 1942.

But the suit against Cap asked for equitable tolling of the statute, because the family didn’t learn it even had a wrongful death action until that deathbed confession three weeks earlier. Judges can grant a motion to toll the running of the statute of limitations, if the plaintiffs did not know about the claim until after the statute of limitations had expired. Some judges won’t, because they see it as a way of getting a case off their docket. But they can. Some judges do, because they see it as fair and equitable. But they don’t have to. The judge in our case probably doesn’t even have to worry about it.

Remember Cap already said he didn’t want to win on a technicality. He wanted to try the case and win it on its merits, so that his name would not tarnished in any way. A statute of limitations dismissal would be the type of technicality that Cap would veto.

And Jen would have to accede to Cap’s wishes on this, even though it might not be in his best interests. If a client wants his or her case handled in a certain way, the lawyer representing the client must accede to the client’s wishes, as long as the client’s wishes aren’t illegal or unethical. If a client wanted to put on perjured testimony, a lawyer wouldn’t have to do that; in fact, couldn’t do that. It’s illegal and unethical. But there’s nothing illegal or unethical – merely unwise – about not wanting to file a motion to dismiss and a lawyer couldn’t file one against the client’s wishes.

Someone asked me how Cap can be sued in Los Angeles when he’s a citizen of New York City. That’s easy. Whatever happened in Los Angeles back in 1940, Cap was there when it happened. That gave California and her courts personal jurisdiction over Cap for the case. If you visit L.A. and cause a traffic accident, the other people in the accident can sue you in L.A. That’s where the accident happened and where you were, when you caused it.

The next thing that happened was that Jen had to get some California lawyer to sponsor her appearance in a California court pro hac vice. This is a procedure by which a lawyer who is not licensed to practice in a state gets permission to be admitted to that state’s bar just for the one case; pro hac vice being a Latin term meaning “for this occasion.” It’s done by having a lawyer who is licensed in the state file a pro hac vice motion on behalf of the out-of-state lawyer.

But why, you may wonder, did Jen have to proceed pro hac vice? After all, waaay back in The Savage She-Hulk# 1, Jen lived, and practiced law, in Los Angeles. She was already a member of the California bar. Emphasis on the “was.”

California, like Ohio, has a registration requirement. In order to continue practicing law in California, every three years a lawyer must take enough California continuing legal education classes to meet California’s CLE requirements. Oh, and pay an annual registration fee. Several years ago Jen moved to New York and started practicing there. In addition, for some period of time, Jen was disbarred and worked as a bounty hunter. Although Jen got her license back, between years of practicing in New York and months of being a disbarred bounty hunter, Jen let her California license become inactive.

Yes, she could get her California license reinstated, but only after taking enough CLE classes to satisfy California and paying her registration fee – don’t forget her registration fee, money-strapped California won’t. But that takes time.

The wrongful death suit against Cap was filed no more than three weeks ago and probably later. Jen agreed to represent Cap some about days before it was set to go to trial. Jen didn’t have time to get her California law license reinstated. Hence the pro hac vice request.

Jen called Matt Murdock – who had just resumed practicing law in California after he was disbarred in New York, himself – to help her file a pro hac vice motion. He turned her down. So Jen ended up using Matt Rocks, one of former X-Factor leader Jamie Madrox’s duplicates who had become a successful entertainment lawyer in L.A.

For two days, Jen prepared herself for the trial, until she was confident that she’d be ready for anything the opposing side could throw at her. Which led to the big surprise ending. And to this

SPOILER WARNING!

As in, I’m about to give away the surprise ending of the story and you have been warned not to proceed if you don’t want to know it.

When Jen entered the courtroom, she discovered that opposing counsel was Matt Murdock.

Although, come to think of it, that wasn’t really all that much of a spoiler. If you didn’t see this ending coming the second Matt Murdock turned Jennifer down, you weren’t paying attention when you took Twist Endings 101.

The surprise ending did puzzle me, tough. Why didn’t Matt simply tell Jen he couldn’t help her file a pro hac vice because he was opposing counsel? There is absolutely no reason for him to have kept this information secret other than to be a dick. Still, considering some of the crap Matt has pulled in the past few years, being a dick may have been reason enough for him.

On the other hand, Jen should have known Matt was opposing counsel, anyway. As the attorney of record, Matt would have signed the official court filings in the case; the complaint, motions, requests for discovery, or what have you. Even if some other lawyer prepared the case, filed the complaint and all the other motions, and Matt only just took over the case; Matt would have filed a notice of appearance in the case to alert the court that he was now the attorney of record. Jen should have seen that notice while preparing for the case and known about Matt. If she didn’t, she should really withdraw from the trial, because she’s a poor excuse for a lawyer.

Now I said the story got the law right. Actually, it mostly got the law right. But the story would have us believe a seventy-four-year old wrongful death suit was going to trial only three weeks after the plaintiffs first learned their cause of action existed. I’m sorry, but no.

Neither Jen – three days – nor Matt – three weeks – would have had sufficient time to prepare their cases; what with all that pretrial discovery and deposing witnesses and endless motion practice. Both sides should have moved for a continuance to give themselves adequate time to prepare for a trial that is so important. Even squeaky-clean Cap could have no complaints to Jen’s moving for a continuance so she could have more than three days to prepare for a trial. Winning a trial because your lawyer is prepared is not winning on a technicality. And going to trial with a lawyer that hasn’t had time to prepare is more suicidal then playing Russian Roulette with a fully-loaded revolver.

Also, three weeks? I admit, I’ve never practiced law in California, so I can’t tell you how quickly civil cases move forward out there. But three weeks?

I can tell you that in Cleveland it takes several months – usually several years – for a civil case to come to trial. And Los Angeles County is 7.67 times more populated than the county where Cleveland sits, so probably has lots more civil cases clogging up its dockets. Those cases would be ahead of Jen’s trial and would have been tried first. There is no way a complicated wrongful death suit would ever come to trial in only three weeks.

Trust me, the constitutional right to a speedy trial only applies to criminal trials, not civil trials. Civil trials are about as speedy as Congress moving on immigration reform.

Well, what do you know? This is the longest column I’ve written for ComicMix. Turns out I was wrong before. Seems I can waste even more of our time writing about how a comic book story got the law right than I can writing about how it got the law wrong.

25 Years Ago Today: Criminals Sucked Sidewalk

ComicMix Quick Picks
June 23, 2014

A quarter of a century ago, I went into New York to catch the first showing of a movie starring a certain caped crusader, and then went over to DC Comics to talk with everybody there. I had to do it in that order, because there would be no other topic of discussion in the office that day. Not that there had been much of one in the country before that, as any flat surface in America had a bat-logo pasted on it.

Now there are many retrospectives about the release of [[[Batman]]] out today and how it changed the comics and movie industry forever. But what I want to point out is that in comics, we can’t help but poke fun at our neighbors’s failures and successes. And so it was that Steve Gerber, Bryan Hitch, and Jim Sanders III gave us The Sensational She-Hulk #19 and Nosferata the She-Bat: