judge ito


The entirety of Beast+’s DVD Covers, in which Shingo Adachi age-reversed Netto and crew and made them too cutesy and adorable to fill an entire half-hour, so they had to cut the show down to under 15 minutes!

As short as it was, and in many ways it felt like a sad way for the anime to go out, there were some wonderful animation scenes, fun stories, and characters like Zero and Cache who thankfully got a little screen time before it was all said and done. Everyone could see the writing on the wall with the series ending and Ryuusei coming out. But man, it was such a disappointment when we all learned the show was being cut down like that!

Scanned from: My Rockman.EXE DVD Collection

Today, Tsuchida-san and Masami Papa came (to see the show)

Ah~… I’m so happy

So, the voice actors of Sena Izumi and Suoh Tsukasa–Ito Masami and Tsuchida Reiou came to see Ansute JoK. As for Masami, it was to “observe” his “youngest son”. And it actually ended up with Masami calling himself Shouta’s “Papa”. So because little Izumi worked so hard, Izumi Papa gave his son a pat on the head.


[Ficlet] Alphabet Couple:single parent x  teacher AU

Happy birthday, Andreau Francis Valerio Cortez!

Big deal para kay Andreau Cortez ang birthdays. Isa siya sa mga naniniwala na dapat palaging masaya at bongga ang birthday celebrations lalo na kapag bata pa. Ganoon kasi siya pinalaki ng parents niya noong nasa California pa sila almost 30 years ago: laging may birthday party, presents.. the whole nine yards. Kaya nang nagkaroon siya ng anak, pinangako niya na magkakaroon din ito ng childhood na kagaya sa kanya, at hihigitan pa niya.

But that’s easier said than done. Being a single dad and an actor-director, nahihirapan din siyang magbalanse ng oras niya, lalo na ngayon na nasa kalagitnaan siya ng shooting ng kanyang latest indie film project (he’s starring and directing, not a new thing for him). Sumabay kasi sa hectic filming schedule ang 7th birthday ng kanyang only boy na si Tristan. Ayaw niyang madisappoint ang anak niya sa birthday nito.

Since last year pa kasi nila pinlano ang 7th birthday bash nito (namana rin ni Tristan ang pagiging choleric niya) at hindi na matahimik si Tristan sa sobrang excitement. Sa school niya gusting icelebrate ang birthday niya, which surprised Andreau. Unlike him na gusto ang engrandeng birthday parties, his son wanted a small and intimate one, basta meron lang burgers at malaking choco-hazelnut cake. Ilang beses din niyang pinilit na sa ibang venue na lang sila magcelebrate, kaso pinagpilitan ni Tristan na gusto niyang kasama ang teachers and classmates niya sa mismong birthday niya. (Apparently Tristan inherited his stubbornness, too.)

Kahit busy siya sa filming, hindi siya nagkulang ng atensyon sa pag-oorganize ng birthday party ng anak niya. He got all the help he needed. Sumobra pa nga sa hinihingi niya eh. Bukod sa staff niya, sa best friend niyang si Roldan at road manager na si Mars, maraming single moms ang nagprisinta na tumulong sa pag-oorganize ng party. Kesh, the owner of the school and Roldan’s fiancée, laughed at this predicament. Ever since kasi pumasok si Tristan sa school niya, dumoble ang bilang ng mga nag-enroll sa kanila. Karamihan kasi sa parents (specifically moms) ng mga bata ay kaedad lang nila, at napanood ang teen TV series na pinagbidahan ni Andreau almost 12 years ago.

Yumayaman kami ni Kesh sa fangirls mo, Dreau, laging pang-asar sa kanya ni Roldan kapag pumupunta si Andreau sa PTA meetings. Wala na lang siyang sinasabi tungkol doon. Almost half of his life ay artista siya, at sanay na siya sa fangirls. Kahit nga na hindi na siya ganoon ka-active on screen (three years na siya behind the scenes as a director), ang dami pa rin niyang fangirls. Naiinis lang siya minsan na ginagawang grand fans day ng ilang nanay ang monthly PTA meetings.

Muntikan na siyang tumigil sa pagpunta until one fateful PTA meeting a year ago nang makilala niya ang teacher ni Tristan na si Zade Pascual.


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The Prosecution Objects (To Me)

Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I had jury duty.

Before going in they advised that I watch the orientation video online so that I wouldn’t have to come in early to watch it at the court.

The orientation videos were full of helpful/completely obvious information like:

- Dress appropriately.  No tank tops, shorts, crop tops or hats.  Don’t wear baggy pants and a T-shirt that says GUILTY.  (That one is a direct quote, which means I guess my I’M WITH A MURDERER —> shirt is out of the question.)

- If someone calls your house and says they’re from the court and they need your social security number DON’T GIVE IT TO THEM. THEY ARE LIARS.

- While in the courthouse don’t post pictures or status updates to myspace, flickr or four square.  (Also don’t go back in time to 2006 when those sites were actually popular.)

- If you are one of the FORTUNATE jurors selected (they really stressed the word “fortunate”, they almost convinced me there) you will receive up to $15 per day for compensation, and whatever is behind door #2 (spoiler: it’s .35cents per mile you drove one way).

- You are not allowed to investigate the crime on your own outside of the court.  In particular, do not try to visit the scene of the crime and look for clues.  (BUT THEN HOW AM I GOING TO TURN THIS INTO A RIVETING THRILLER MOVIE STARRING RACHEL MCCADAMS AND BEN AFFLECK?!?!)

- Then a woman came on giving a testimonial in which she said:  "Yeah, I was scared at first, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.  But then I bought a book on the importance of jury service and now I’m excited to do my duty to my country.“  It almost made me go out and get a book on the importance of jury service, then I decide I’d just wait for the movie adaptation instead.

Yesterday morning I arrived bright and early at the courthouse in downtown LA.  After joining hundreds of other jurors in a non-air-conditioned room to wait, I was lucky to be assigned to the very first trial that came up.

I’m not sure how much I can say about the actual trial, so I’ll be vague.  I was given a number that put me in the top 16 jurors, which, I later realized, meant that I would be put on the jury, unless either the defense or prosecution vetoed me as a candidate.

The judge spent the first two hours giving a history lesson on US government and the court system.  He seemed like a nice guy, but also something of a talker.  Then we broke for lunch.

After an unpleasant experience in the "snack shop”, which resembled a dirty, dingy gas station snack shop, I vowed not to eat lunch in the cafeteria.  We had an hour and a half, so I walked down to Grand Central Market, a recently somewhat upscaled building full of food vendors.


“I have plenty of time,” I told myself, as I strolled the floor, checking out the options.  I chose a pupusa stand and after waiting in a long line to order, and then waiting another interminably long time for my food, I realized I only had fifteen minutes left in which to eat and get back to the court.  I ran back, scarfed my food down in a tiny park, and hurried into the courthouse.

In my rush I turned the wrong way down a hallway and barged into the wrong courtroom.  I had forgotten the name of the judge on my trial, but he was Japanese and I could see that the nameplate of this judge read Judge Ito, so I thought I was in the right place, until I looked around and realized I didn’t recognize a single one of the jurors.  I rushed out and hurried down to the other end of the hall, where I found the correct courtroom.

After we reconvened, our judge made a joke about sidebars.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be taking sidebars every five minutes, like in the OJ trial.  Not that there was anything wrong with that.  Lance Ito was my mentor, actually.  He still works right down the hall.”

Which means… I was in Lance Ito’s courtroom!  I hadn’t seen him, but I had seen his nameplate.  I had been in his place of judgement.  It was like a brush with incredibly strange celebrity.

The juror selection continued and I easily picked out several people that would be vetoed from the jury.  There was a woman who had a lot of history as a defendant in trials and said being in the courtroom was giving her a panic attack.  There was a pregnant woman who started crying at the mention of photos of a dead body.  (This came after one of the prosecution’s stranger questions to the jurors “Would anyone here consider themselves a huge fan of CSI?”)  There was a woman who claimed not to speak english, while speaking it very well, and the woman next to me, who’s english was so bad she could barely understand the question.  There was a lawyer, and a boy in police officer training.  There was a man who continuously argued with the judge that if the defendant pleaded the fifth he was definitely guilty.  All of these losers have got to go, I thought to myself.  They’d make horrible jurors.

I was convinced, however, that I would be put on the jury.  Who would veto me?  What cause would they have?  I would make an excellent juror.  I would be fair minded, non judgmental, and unbiased.  I would listen to all the evidence and weigh all the facts before making a decision.

Keep in mind, I didn’t want to be chosen for the jury.  No one wants to be chosen for a jury.  The judge even told us this trial would take at least two weeks, and if the judge’s two hour lecture on the American government was any indication, it would be a horrendously boring two weeks.

Still, I was proud that I was going to be chosen.  I was also curious about the case, since the small bits of information that were released made it sound like a doozy.

The juror interview portion came to a close and the judge said it was time to determine if they could assemble a jury from the first 30 people chosen.  The defense and prosecution would take turns vetoing candidates.  I was familiar from this process from the book/movie A Time to Kill, so I was ready to get started.

The first few were pretty obvious.  All of the people I’ve mentioned were let go, along with two women who seemed like complainers.  I knew that if anyone was to veto me it would be the defense.  I was wearing glasses, my hair was in a ponytail, I had admitted that I had been mugged before.  I looked like someone who would be a hard ass on crime.  So when the defense finally said “we accept this jury” I was already considering which food stand I would choose to eat lunch at tomorrow.

It was time for the prosecution to either accept the jury or make their final veto.  "We accept this…  No, wait.  Actually, can we have a minute to discuss?“

"Of course,” said not Judge Ito.

They discussed for a bit, pointing at a bunch of post-it notes laid out to mimic the jurors seating arrangement.  After a few moments they turned back to the jury box.

“We would like to release juror number (well I can’t tell you the number… but it was me!  They were releasing me!)”

I looked around at all the selected jurors and my first thought was WHAT DO THESE JURORS HAVE THAT I DON’T HAVE???  There was a girl whose brother had been arrested for gang violence and a guy who was clearly somewhere on the autism spectrum and had announced that he had a hard time paying attention to or retaining information.  There was a woman with those gross dangly earlobes you get when you wear ear gauges for years.  For God’s sake, had they really chosen her over me?

I returned to the juror waiting room where I met up with all of the other possible jurors who had been released from my trial.  When I walked into the room they clapped and said things like “Congrats”  "Good for you" and “We got out of it!”  But I didn’t really feel like celebrating.  It felt like when you’re talking to a guy and you both know you’re clearly out of his league but there’s something about him you like so you’re flirting with him anyway, and then HE REJECTS YOU.  That’s it, I felt rejected.

“Vetoed by the defense, right?” the rejected lawyer asked me.

“Yeah…” I muttered, not really listening to the question.

“Makes sense.  It was clear they didn’t have a very strong case, and I think they were also getting rid of anyone from the west side.”

“I’m sorry, did you say the defense?  I misheard you.  I was vetoed by the prosecution.”

“Oh, hmmm.”

“Why do you think they vetoed me?”

“I don’t know.”


“I don’t know, maybe they just really wanted whoever was going to take your place.”

“But they could have vetoed the gang sister, or the autistic guy or ear gauge girl!  Why me?”

“I don’t know!”  At that point I’d freaked him out so much that he decided to take the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator with the rest of us.

On the uphill hike back to the parking lot I continued to remind myself that it as a good thing.  If I had been chosen I would have to make this hike again tomorrow, and then the day after, and the day after, for at least two weeks.  It didn’t really make me feel any better though.

I fought the law and the law dumped me for someone hotter.