This 396-page book provides specific guidance on pre-trial criminal procedure of all sorts, and explains in understandable terms what you can do and what you can't do under 4th Amendment search and seizure law. From traffic checkpoints and forceful felony arrest, from Miranda warnings to inmate and cell searches, it's all covered in this concise reference. In addition, numerous charts and guides are included throughout the book to make this as practical a guide as possible.
In his fourth "Street" mystery, Bill Kent couples his knowledge as a journalist with the skills of a top-notch writer to build a world and a story that captivates the reader. When Andy Cosicki is summoned to the boss's office to describe the murder she discovered, she finds a police lieutenant and Michael McSloan, the paper's lawyer, waiting to hear her story. It requires some effort to not be distracted by McSloan's good looks, even though the scene was unforgettable—attorney Charles Muckler had been trapped in his car while a truckload of wet sand was pumped into it. Good looks are not always matched with good character, however, and it doesn't take Andy long to see beyond McSloan's gorgeous profile. She isn't all that surprised when his body is found at the foot of his high-rise apartment building. He definitely didn't jump; the only question is, which of his many enemies was the one to do the pushing? In trying to put two and two together, Andy gets caught up with her concern for McSloan's disabled young son and for another boy, who wrote to her "Mr. Action" column for help. It takes knowledgeable obituary writer Shep Ladderback to point her down the right path. The oddly matched but delightful pair is just the team to track down a killer with a serious distaste for lawyers.
A righteously satisfying read of a thriller, metaphysical novel, and screwball comedy, from the author of The Bear Comes Home. With the twists, turns, and smash-ups of a thriller, the sudden depths of a metaphysical novel, and the fizz of a screwball comedy, Street Legal is high entertainment and a righteously satisfying read, from the author of the greatest novel ever written about a saxophone-playing bear. Street Legal features an old-time skunk dealer, sniffing the new breezes, wants to open an Old-Time Grass Business Theme Park with rides and a disco. His foot soldier, a strapping, confused kid who might be on the spectrum. A frustrated cop who isn't allowed to collar anyone important because the town needs the business who consoles himself by trying to make a last-chance bust and grab some of the action. A slick, unsettling stranger buying up properties under cover for a major tobacco company but really out for himself. A Tibetan Buddhist lama from New Jersey who sounds like Tony Soprano when discoursing on the dharma who finds his disciple, a wry, reticently sexy earth mother wracked with concern for the wayward young man who is her son.
Not a "simplified" version of the Book of Mormon, but a completely rewritten paraphrase, with a contemporary voice hovering somewhere in the realm of J. D. Salinger, Hunter Thompson, and some generic humanist academic/poet, i.e., me. An affectionate, meditational dramatization and commentary. From the Introduction: "Why 'street-legal'? That's a term we use for souped-up cars—streamlined and powerfully efficient but also decorative, with decals, pinstriping, and tricked-out doodads—that still can be ridden in normal lanes of traffic. They're not cars meant for everyday errands, to be sure. Offroad is their normal habitat. But the only thing they usually lack to be 'normal' is a better muffler. This paraphrase of the Book of Mormon is like that. I've streamlined a lot of passages, put them in terse, up-to-date vernacular, thinking that's what one would have done if one were scratching the book out on metal plates. I've tried to muscle up the prose. But I've also added lots of linguistic decals: digressions, snippets of commentary, queries, and even humor, which the original editor, Mormon, apparently cut."
Toronto prides itself on being “the world’s most diverse city,” and its officials seek to support this diversity through programs and policies designed to promote social inclusion. Yet this progressive vision of law often falls short in practice, limited by problems inherent in the political culture itself. In Everyday Law on the Street, Mariana Valverde brings to light the often unexpected ways that the development and implementation of policies shape everyday urban life. Drawing on four years spent participating in council hearings and civic association meetings and shadowing housing inspectors and law enforcement officials as they went about their day-to-day work, Valverde reveals a telling transformation between law on the books and law on the streets. She finds, for example, that some of the democratic governing mechanisms generally applauded—public meetings, for instance—actually create disadvantages for marginalized groups, whose members are less likely to attend or articulate their concerns. As a result, both officials and citizens fail to see problems outside the point of view of their own needs and neighborhood. Taking issue with Jane Jacobs and many others, Valverde ultimately argues that Toronto and other diverse cities must reevaluate their allegiance to strictly local solutions. If urban diversity is to be truly inclusive—of tenants as well as homeowners, and recent immigrants as well as longtime residents—cities must move beyond micro-local planning and embrace a more expansive, citywide approach to planning and regulation.
Michael was in a hurry. He was scrambling up the ladder at Drake & Sweeney, a giant D. C. firm with 800 lawyers. The money was good and getting better; a partnership was three years away. He was a rising star, with no time to waste, no time to stop, n
This book makes the case for a more legally literate society and then addresses why and how a law school might contribute to achieving that. Moreover examining what public legal education (PLE) is and the forms it can take, the book looks specifically at the ways in which a law school can get involved, including whether that is as part of an academic, credit-bearing, course or as extra-curricular activity. Divided into five main chapters, the book first examines the nature of PLE and why its provision is so central to the functioning of modern society. Models of PLE are then set out ranging from face-to-face tuition to the use of hard-copy material, including the growing importance of e-based technology. One model of PLE that has proven to be very attractive to law schools – Street Law – is described and analysed in detail. The book then turns to look at the considerations for a law school wishing to incorporate PLE into its offerings be that as part of the formal curriculum or not. The subject of evaluation is then raised – how might we find out if what we do by way of PLE is effective and how it might be improved upon? The final chapter reaches conclusions, some penned by the book’s author and others drawn from key figures in the PLE movement. This book provides a thorough examination of PLE in a law school context and contains a set of templates that can be implemented and/or adapted for use as the situation and jurisdiction dictate. An accessible and compelling read, this book will be of interest to law students, legal academics, practising lawyers, community activists and all those interested in PLE.
