Me? I was jailed for 24 hours by Judge Gold one day before I was to start defending myself in his Family Court.  But this senior gentleman, Richard Fine, now starts his 366th day in solitary confinement, where apparently he can't now chew his food, having lost his teeth.

"Sincerity is everything. If you can fake that, you’ve got it made!"

Especially if you can do it better than anyone else.

Last night's airing of her BAFTA Fellowship Award for lifetime achievement, which I saw on BBC America, was quite riveting. Darling Vee, as we called her, was in great form, but in new ways: if you can't lick 'em politically, find other ways, or places, to lick 'em.

Journalist Andrew Anthony writes an interesting in-depth article in the Sunday Observer on her life and times.  As is often the case these days, the comments section is rather more interesting than the article.  Read it here.

Yes, my sister-in-law for 32 years, Vee continues to age gracefully, like a fine old cheese.

He makes this final statement.  It should be read and considered - the least we can do - before passing judgment as to his state of mind. Click here so you can read it too.

"Sincerity is everything. If you can fake that, you’ve got it made!"

Listen to it.

The media's intent to embarrass him has ricocheted to the detriment of big business, the attraction of the public to the game of golf, and the loss of millions of dollars.

Thus, TMZ,  the National Enquirer, Mail online, Page 6, and its ilk, are the ones who should apologize, for they have together damaged the American economy.  The law of unintended consequences?  I know all about that.

Meanwhile, one continues to wonder at this society's appetite for unremitting hypocrisy. The airwaves' No. 1 popular show continues to be 2 1/2 Men, starring Charlie Sheen, which is all about his sexual exploits.

So, Tiger, stay with it and don't feel depressed. Just think of media whore lawyer Gloria Allred sitting with her porn star client, demanding an apology too.  Frankly, I think you should employ a lawyer to demand apologies from these pretty ones, for the crime of shamelessly hawking their wares in front of you, knowing you would fall victim to their charms. I think it's called sexual entrapment.

Funny funny. Says it all, and the humor of it will give you perspective, help you get back on your game, and us LOL. 

The pro se goes to court thinking that the judge will act as a sort of umpire, or referee.  A session in chambers might even settle differences, but the pro se is never invited into the judge's inner sanctuary, while an attorney is.  Court rules only, and you'd better know what you're doing.  The pro se is put under oath, and the opposing attorney is not (in fact, the client may not even be there.)  And if the smart attorney opposite you sneaks in a few hearsay comments on behalf of the non-appearing client, it's assumed by new-comers that the judge will call a foul.  But it doesn't work that way, and if brought to the attention of the court of appeal by way of a writ, it will be ignored. And so the outraged pro se seeks to have the judge replaced, and the same judge looks at the motion and denies it.

The system as it is set up gives judges huge leeway, and one might be forgiven for thinking that there are 2 groups, one consisting of "good, fair-minded" judges, and the other of "bad, corrupt" judges. I have come to believe that they are all the same. If a visionary judge sets out on the path of true justice, it won't be long before the temptations strewn about the office overcome any chance of their continuing on that path. Money is the goal and sole objective, quietly distributed among associated disciplines, and taking place under a cloak of immunity. And what kind of a deal is THAT?

It is my belief that the U.S. system, especially as it applies to Family Court and Probate Court, needs to be fundamentally reformed.  As it now exists, it is open to charges of corruption, even to the point of bearing signs of a RICO ("if it walks like a duck, and talks like a duck..." well, you know).   And if you think that any D.A. in the country is going to investigate, think again.

I now bring you the following dissertation on the subject, and it should be read thoroughly from beginning to end, because it makes its points and provides authorities in a sound and reasonable manner.  It deals with the real world as it is, not the virtual world of our Constitution, which is studiously ignored all the time. It's headed "bad judges", but I think the word "bad" should be removed. And suggestions on improving the judicial appointments system are made.

My site stands for REFORM, and is intended to get people thinking. There's a groundswell of unhappy self-represented near bankrupt litigants, and it is time for them to get out of their chairs, and as Howard Beale said in the movie Network:   "I'M MAD AS HELL, AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANY MORE!"

This will link you to the article here.  Read it and be stunned. And let me hear from you.

I wonder if this is part of Delta pilot training? Is this on a simulator?

Poor old Capt. Benjy, having to struggle with the responsibilty of keeping his sister's, my youngest daughter's, marriage to a Cuban-American (fine with me, by the way, hope he's not a dissident) last August 1st. secret from me, her father.

Swearing the entire family members and their friends to secrecy while dancing at Liam Neeson's farm upstate NY (disguised as "Dance Party of the Century".)  Well, Facebook and the attraction of marriage giftlists, and the internet, means that those things don't stay secret for very long.  Meanwhile, I'd like to think that Annabel might have liked to have had her father present to proudly give her away.  Tradition. Blessing the marriage, that sort of thing.  Guess not.  Too bad for both of us, she'll discover in time.  Meanwhile, for the benefit of passengers, we need to understand that Captains' minds are sometimes in the cockpit of their home lives, but not in the left seat.

MD-80 CHECKLIST, arrival:

TAXI
1. Auto brakes....................................................OFF
2. Spoilers.........................................................RETRD
3. Radar...........................................................OFF
4. Wing heaters...................................................SET
5. Ignition..........................................................OFF
6. Check list completed to apron
7. APU.............................................................AS REQD
8. Flaps & slats....................................................UP & RETRD
9. Checklist completed
PARKING
1. Parking brakes...............................................ON & CHKD
2. Seat belts switch.............................................OFF
3. Ice protection................................................OFF
4. Fuel pumps...................................................SET
5. IRS............................................................SET
6. Anti-collision light...........................................OFF
7. Peneumatic crossfeed.......................................OPEN
8. Air conditioning..............................................SET
9. Lights.........................................................AS REQD
10. Hydraulic pumps...........................................SET
11. Engine oil quantity.........................................CHKD
12. Aircraft log/NOTOC........................................SIGNED/STORED
13. Fuelling info (as required).................................PERFORMED
14. Emergency light switch....................................OFF
15. Checklist completed
GOING HOME ON MOTORBIKE
1.  Eyes on road………………………………......…........…ON & CHKD
2.  Call Mom for orders……..……….....….....…...……AS REQD
3.  Call Step-Dad (Brandon Maggart) for advice...AS REQD
4.  Get orders from wife………….………………......….AS REQD
5.  Check Facebook………………........…….……..……..AS REQD
6.  Check Mom’s killer lawyer Emily Edelman....AS REQD
7.  Check leaks to Dad’s blog……….….……….....…..OPEN
8.  Re-check Facebook wedding pictures.….…….PENDING
9.  Check control of his grandchildren..….…..….WILLCO
10.  Say Hi to Liam………………………….........………..PENDING
11.  Mental logbook.......................................SIGNED/STORED
12.  ?!!%?/#%*&$$$?...(|:>(........................CALL AMBULANCE
 

Those were the days when a youngster, just emerging from the Second World War in England, could venture out to see the world, much of it in disarray. The sense of wonder was overwhelming; the realization that there were other cultures and ethnically based political systems (we were the first ship to put into the new Communist Republic of China) to think about, and that the world's makeup of humanity is and always will be essentially tribal.  Which has led me to view each country's approach with a healthy cynicism.  There is no one answer, except live and let live (with appropriate controls of course, now that we have those unhealthy WMDs.)

Hey Lynn,

I've been reading some of the terrific notices after your opening last night on Broadway.  I saw the play last year in L.A. but now I see that with the aid of your canny director (hi, Joe) you've added references to our 32 year marriage which, you now say, was for you filled with loneliness and lovelessness.  Linda Winer of Newsday says your tales of our marriage teeter uncomfortably close to revenge.

Why didn't you let me know? You misled me all along, it seems. I pulled out a book we put together a few years ago, This Is Living.  I wanted to check the dedication you surprised me with when it went to the publishers. It says "For John.  Who has opened my eyes to myself, has been a part of every good thing that has ever happened to me, and has loved me through fat and through thin."  So you lied? Now I feel uncomfortable, and wish you had saved me from your years of perdition.  I could have gone elsewhere, created my own career, and saved myself from being demonized and alienated by you and our children.

Well, carry on, anything for a successful show, and the critics DID spell my name right. We know that you have the performing talent to make the phone book sound interesting (there's an idea.) 

LATER

Vanity Fair has recorded a clip from your show. Reader fans may want to hear this.

Investigative reporter Lucy Komisar saw it. This is what she has to say about it, click here for her review.

You've made everyone aware Nightingale may be your swan song, and I don't want to rain on your parade (yet. My warehouse, which you stocked, is still full of good family memories, and all I need for my book which keeps me busy. Also my own solo show. which I may call Canary.)

Meanwhile, say hi to my kids for me, wish them a Happy Christmas, and treat yourselves to a read of A Christmas Carol.

It was with the respected Los Angeles Times. What they did to me gives the best example of why the press is not to be trusted, if they have an agenda, which they usually do.  It set the tone for me up until the present time.  With Nightingale, Lynn Redgrave seeks to continue the spin. And she doesn't grant interviews, a normal process in the promotion of a play.  What the lawyers did, some might say was foster criminal fraud behavior, covered up by the courts and the L.A. Times.  So read this, and let's not hear any more of the nonsense in critics' reviews:

Tattletales

Learning lines

I never heard of having a prompter sitting in the first row, and mouthing your lines to you, as apparently Matthew Broderick has availed himself of in the opening performances of Starry Messenger. Or having a tiny speaker in your ear, as apparently Angela Lansbury did during her recent foray into Blithe Spirit.  She says that's to be expected if you're 84.  Poor Mr. Matt Mulhern just got himself fired from the Hartford Stage Company for pasting a few errant lines into his hat, and then referring to them out of dire necessity. Then there's my ex, who has thrown her hands in the air, and just reads the damn thing, in her discourse about her grandmother in Nightingale.

Me, I've always had terrible trouble learning lines. I started out as a BBC radio actor, and reading the script became the normal way to do it.  Even now, I scan the page into my head, and still read it. The scanning process takes a while. During my days of weekly rep, I was fast.  Now, a rate of an ASA of about 6, if I'm lucky.

There's the method approach. First get the character, next the thoughts, the feelings in sync. and the words will undoubtedly come. Maybe.  Maybe not the author's words, but perhaps something even better(?)

But there will always be blocks, words or phrases that refuse to jump into place.  Then trickery is used, links from pictures, initials, numbers, anything that works.

There are some freaks who are blessed with a magic brain, that remembers and hangs on to everything in a flash, no problem. And that's just not fair.

John@johnclarkprose.com

I built Topanga's only Kramer tennis court, a company run by his sons, with the faux grass surface, and electric lights for nightime playing.

I wonder if my fellow DGA director member, one Michael Katleman who somehow acquired my property at a depressed price immediately after 9/11, is enjoying it? I think so.  Last time I looked over my old neighbor's fence, he'd installed a basket ball hoop at the practice board end, and having family picnics on the "lawn". Strawberries and cream I hope. Of the net, no sign.

My 2 sons and 1 daughter were living in New York City, and I hadn't heard from them for a while, and was worried.  Especially for Benjy. He was a co-pilot for Delta, flying East Coast runs. Was he in the air, about to get involved too?  Were they all OK?

I went to the phone, unable to raise anybody at that point, not even Lynn, by now my ex-wife.  Two days went by before I learned that my children were safe.  Of Lynn, no word, because I knew she was filming in London. 2 days later, I took breakfast at 8am, relieved and happy to hear that all three of my children were safe and sound back in Manhattan. A film crew had arrived that morning, about to film 4 pretty girls playing a doubles match on my tennis court.

They unloaded their gear. I would be paid $500 renting out my facilities for the day. The producer was relieved not to have to secure permits for the shoot.  Also, my home was just outside Los Angeles City limits, helpful for the fact that the girls would be cavorting on the court topless.

My gate phone rang. It was the police! The producer was having a coffee with me, and immediately sprang to her feet, ran outside, and gathered her cast and crew together for a fast scramble and getaway.

After a short pause I let the police in, first making sure that all shooting has ceased on the tennis court. I went outside to greet them, with a smile on my face. A short-lived smile as it turned out, when they informed me that they had come for me, and I had precisely 1 hour to pack my things before being escorted off my premises. Court order of Judge Arnold Gold. Time enough only to hitch my pickup truck to my trailer, charge the battery, and leave for destinations unknown.

Later that day, it was 9/13 remember, I returned to retrieve a few things, and particularly one of my cars (I had several). At my gate, I found out why my ex, Lynn Redgrave, had been unreachable. She was not in London.  She was in my driveway, shouting instructions to several hangers-on who were there to make sure I did not re-enter my premises, guided by phone instructions from her lawyer Emily Edelman. Thank God I had my camera. I would record the events as they happened, because otherwise nobody would believe it. I called the police.  And now, read my pictorial of what happened next in the category to the left entitled "MY EVICTION PICTURES."

Terrorists? Yes. From overseas? No. Just members of my family, supported by judges, lawyers, the press, and court-order enforcers (from the Malibu sheriff's office).

Spent the day before the long Labor Day weekend in traffic court. I had received in the mail a picture of me at an intersection at the wheel of my car, from the front and rear, showing the license plate number. There I was, stopped behind the line, as the light had turned red. Next picture was of me making a right hand turn, (from Sunset on to Cahuenga, which was permitted). This was witnessed, and the fine was $436, send it in by (date). The witness? 2, maybe 3, video cameras.

I spent half a day in the line down at the courthouse giving them a check, and a demand that I wanted to go to trial on this. I felt, and continue to feel strongly, that we do not (yet) live in a police state. If it's ok to put its citizens under surveillance, I'm not so sure I wish to continue to live here. 

Not so fast, Mr. Clark!

A crowded courtroom. About a third of the cases were dismissed (the cop witness didn't show up.) Another third had their cases dismissed on the grounds that they had an acceptable reason for the alleged transgression. As for the rest, they were found guilty to a greater or lesser degree, and forfeited their bail, or most of it.

I think the judge, an amiable sort of fellow (the smart ones take training in amiability), left me until last because he knew I'd be the difficult one. Caught the look in my eye, perhaps.

I protested the citation. The complaint was in the wrong form, didn't state a claim, or a cause of action. Disregarded.

I then demanded to confront a witness, to exercise my right of cross-examination. At which point a policeman, I guess an honorable member of the LAPD, stepped up to the plate, and responded to my questions. (No absent policemen for me, to help me out...)

"When, and where did you witness my alleged offense", I asked him.  "Oh, back at the office" he replied.  "Here, I have it on my computer", whereupon the judge produced his own laptop, and together they demonstrated the certainty of my crime. The screen revealed that there was a nano-second between the light turning red, and my car entering the forbidden zone. "How many witnesses do you claim to have", I asked him.  "Oh, hundreds" he replied. "All members of the force are witnesses to this type of crime, they just have to look at the video." I noted that the judge had entered the dispute as a witness too.

I told the judge that I was entitled to cross-examine a live witness who was actually there. Cameras may yet act with artificial intelligence and answer awkward questions, but we're not there yet. I explained that in my opinion, untampered videos might be held to be secondary evidence serving to corroborate primary evidence from a human witness. I explained that I wanted to know if the video allowed for the fact that I, as a safe driver, thought a car might be in back of me, about to crash if I braked hard.  Or saw the body I was dragging under the car, which was hidden from view...

A voice within me whispered the biggest no-no in American courts.  "DON'T PISS OFF THE JUDGE!" I know, or I'll be dead.  Well, I was dead anyway.  The judge wound proceedings up by proclaiming "This court finds that defendant breached..." etc. etc.  (My emphasis). There was no "next case" because I was the last. We all went on our way, bail forfeited, and I am determined to figure out my next step.  I do, after all, owe it to my faithful readers, all of whom I am sure are capable of being stopped by the cops.

Be prepared. Doing 38 in a 35 mph zone? Video'd, guilty. Cut a corner slightly? Video'd, guilty. Threw an apple core out the window? Video'd, guilty.  Wandered outside your lane? Video'd, guilty. Forgot to secure your seatbelt? Video'd, guilty. Crossed the road in the middle of the block at 3 in the morning? Video'd, guilty.

I followed my wife who was driving her car, in my car. I wanted to check her driving skills. She made 10 errors within 2 hours, any one of which transgressed the Highway Code. Assuming $436 for each offense, that equals $4,360 for the day. 250 work-days in a year? That's $1,090,000. And that's just one driver!

Is it any consolation knowing that we are helping Mr. Schwarzenegger out of a hole, taking on the liability of salary payments to the LAPD?  No.  But why stop there?  On a higher plane, we could help President Obama fix the National Debt! Bring on surveillance!