All right, that headline might have been a slight exaggeration.
In fact, according to Neelu Berry’s latest Facebook live-stream video, the Application for Committal against Mr Ellis ended yesterday, not with the banging of a cell door, but with a whimper—a three-month sentence, suspended for 12, and the threat of prison time if he violates a restraining order. Neelu wasn’t clear about what that order entailed.
We assigned our junior Gentleman of the Tea Trolley, Max, to try to make sense of Neelu’s latest, and here’s what he sent us:
Neelu says she didn’t attend yesterday’s hearing, because at Wednesday’s she managed to distinguish herself by standing up in the public gallery until the judge noticed her. Apparently she took offence at something the prosecuting barrister said about her, although why they were discussing her I do not know.
Anyhoo, the barrister, Eardley I think it was, said that before Mr Ellis came along, Ms Berry didn’t know anything about the law, and didn’t know what the consequences of perverting the course of justice could be. At this point, Ms Berry stood up and tried to catch the eye of the judge, who told her to sit down.
Instead, Ms Berry said, she informed the court that she’d been using that phrase in the documents since the 1990s when she first started taking corruption cases to court. [I find this amazing, as this means she’s been pulling these stunts since before I was born! Why has she never gone to jail? —Max]
Ms Berry told the court that she was a very specialized super-qualified pharmacist with experience in mental health, and that she knew how discharge patients into the community, and a bunch of other stuff which I didn’t quite get…and then she said that she proved some hospital had victimised her, that that they’d conspired to do so, which proves that she DOES TOO know what conspiracy to pervert the course of justice means, so there, nyah nyah.
She says she had an “outburst” and then she and 11 of her friends were removed by the guards.
Then she talked about having had two fathers, one African and one Indian. [Is that even possible? —Max]
Oh, here’s something interesting. Both her fathers were equity lawyers, just like Mr Ellis! Isn’t that an amazing coincidence?
She says that equity law isn’t taught in the universities, and it isn’t in any of the law books or the legislation, but it means “natural law, common law, divine law, jurisprudence of the philosophy of law, and how people use the law when they have differences. And it’s meant to be with a jury”.
[Question: if it’s not in legislation, or law books, or universities, how does anyone know how to do it, or even what it is? Maybe this explains why there are only three known equity lawyers, and two of them are dead? Should Mr Ellis perhaps be in a zoo, as a unique specimen? Just some thoughts. —Max]
Oh, I think Ms Berry just answered one of my questions: she says the reason they want to stop Mr Ellis is because he is one the last equity lawyers. Well, technically I’d say he is the last, wouldn’t you?
Ms Berry said that Mr Ellis has “basically come to the conclusion that the justice system is unfit for purpose, so therefore we don’t require its services”. [This is just my guess, but could this be why he was in court in the first place? —Max]
Sirs, I have to confess that at a certain point my mind started to wander, so I don’t know that I got everything she said, but I did pick up something about how the judge was not impartial and kept interrupting Mr Ellis. I will be honest: if Mr Ellis talks as much as Ms Berry does, I would have been interrupting him too.
Oh, hang on, here’s an interesting bit: she says that if Mr Ellis breaches his restraining order he’ll spend three months in jail, but of course he’s planning to appeal that, but the state wants him in jail because he’s too successful at assisting these 40 victims of state terrorism who’ve been fighting justice corruption for decades. [Question: If he’s been so successful, why do none of his clients ever seem to win? —Max]
Well done, Max. You’ll find 10 quid under the box of jammy dodgers in the morning, assuming someone gets to the office before you do.