by KRISTIAN GRAVENOR

Every event you witness is a result of a magical chemical process. The perception becomes a memory and gets filed in the cold grey blob between your ears alongside a gang of bad influences. Once in your head, sentimentality comes knocking and wines and dines that helpless memory. Pride then takes it to an afterhours club and by the time self-justification gets through with it, the memory is about as reliable as a coked-out floozy after a three-day bender.

The problem is that our corrupted memories form the flimsy foundation for reality. They govern history, self-image and where you put your keys. But most importantly, these busted-up perceptions also rule the justice system and ultimately the entire foundation of the rule of law.

Every day, witnesses stand in front of juries and judges and recount radically differing versions of the same event and the justice system is helpless to differentiate truth from bullshit. To illustrate, here are examples taken from complaints filed at the police ethics committee. You be the judge.

On 15 September 1998, in LaSalle, Rosalind Burrowes was loudly objecting as bailiffs bolted a Denver boot on her wheel. She felt that they shouldn't be doing it because her boyfriend Claude Fournier had racked up the tickets, and it wasn't his car. According to her testimony, police officer Eric Pelletier told her to "Shut your fucking mouth, nigger. You stupid bitch, why are you in Quebec? You can't speak French." She says the officer then asked if she'd be raising money to pay her $135 disturbing-the-peace ticket through, um, selling oral sex. Pelletier's partner, a woman named Constable Cyr, admitted speaking "very little English" but said her partner hadn't said any of those things. The committee dismissed the complaint.

Here's an easier case. At 7 a.m. on August 19, 1999, a mysterious bicyclist pursued Zdzislaw Gnyp through Verdun yelling, "I'm going to kill you." Gnyp fled and evaded her. Or so he says. The woman, it turns out, was Mélanie Cauvier, a dog inspector who wanted to see his dog licence. In Cauvier's account, Gnyp grabbed her by the throat and threatened to kill her. Cops tossed him in jail as he allegedly muttered about a conspiracy against him by the Nazis and the Polish government. He complained of his treatment to the committee, who ruled against him, except to note that cops left him in his jail cell too long.

When Daniel Perez was pulled over in Kahnawake on March 5, 2000, he unfortunately shared a name with a murder suspect. This - plus possibly some displeasure at being pulled over - led to some rather rough treatment for him and his car. "All witnesses confirm that Officer Albert Stalk attempted to break one of the windows of the sport vehicle with a club and punctured one or both of the back tires with a knife," says the committee report. The committee deemed the action justified, because Stalk's account portrayed Perez as the aggressor. "Officer Albert Stalk was clear and concise in his testimony before the Committee and there was no other evidence presented which would raise doubts on his credibility." The committee refused to condemn the officer, which probably didn't help the $121,000 lawsuit Perez tried to launch against the force.

So what happens to those who don't practice prevarication or slick-talking version of events? Ask Laval cop Ronald Johnson, accused by motorist Francine Boudreau of inappropriate commentary on August 15, 2002. Johnson allegedly empathized with her. "If it was just me, maybe I could have done something, but the boss is there, even though you're pretty." Boudreau, for some reason, complained about the flattery. Rather than deny the account like the others cops, Johnson said he couldn't remember. Unlike the other cops, Johnson was reprimanded by the committee.

So who's telling the truth and who's the slithering perjurer in these and countless other cases? Until we start taping our lives on video, we'll never know for sure.

Comments? kgravy@openface.ca