Aaron Lee Fineman for The New York Times Christopher X. Brodeur in 2001. On the eighth floor of the Brooklyn Criminal Courthouse - a place where misdemeanors are adjudicated and court proceedings consist mostly of brief appearances in front of a judge - the bizarre trial of Christopher X. Brodeur is now entering its third week.
On Friday, Mr. Brodeur, 45, called himself to the witness stand and began questioning himself in a format that took full comedic advantage of the absurdist situation.
“Mr. Brodeur, would you explain,†he would say, as a preface to a typical question.
“Well, I’d love to,†he would respond to himself, and then launch into a lengthy answer.
Mr. Brodeur is charged with violating a restraining order by sending an e-mail to an acquaintance, Harry Stuckey, who became Mr. Brodeur’s nemesis after a failed attempt to open an artists’ collective in Williamsburg.
Similarly, Mr. Brodeur was convicted in December on a criminal contempt charge in connection with violating a restraining order by sending an e-mail to Rachel Trachtenburg, a 19-year-old model and a member of the girl band Supercute.
Mr. Brodeur, a musician, artist and political activist, has spent the past 13 months in Rikers Island - partly because he cannot come up with the $15,000 bail set by the court.
Mr. Brodeur, has run twice for mayor of New York City, winning 4 percent of the vote in the Democratic primary for mayor in 2005. But he became best known for making headlines after his numerous arrests for harassing government or elected officials - most notably Rudolph Giuliani, whose radio show Mr. Brodeur would regularly call into, with taunts.
Mr. Brodeur is known for sending out mass e-mails to friends, enemies, reporters and government officials alike, often with obscene rants about the dishonesty of certain elected officials.
As usual, Mr. Brodeur is representing himself in the current trial, but the judge has insisted that a court-appointed lawyer, Steven Hubert, be present as a legal adviser.
So Mr. Brodeur is brought into court each day in handcuffs and wearing an outfit of layered T-shirts and sweatshirts. He has a beard and long hair and he remains handcuffed to his chair. He is cheery and sharp of mind, and ever loquacious in his relentless, meandering questioning of witnesses - most of whom are his various friends and former friends.
The legal crux of the trial â€" Mr. Brodeur’s e-mails - has largely been overshadowed by his domination of the proceedings by questioning witnesses about the minutiae of how he was wronged in various ways.
Isn’t Christopher honest, he keeps asking witnesses. Isn’t he a famous political activist, a whistle-blower. Isn’t he talented.
His meandering questions prompt constant objections from the prosecutor, Jessica Wilson, which then prompt mini-law lessons from Judge Michael Yavinsky.
Mr. Brodeur has been prickly with the prosecution, signing court documents with names including Liberace, Judy Garland and Thomas Jefferson.
The Brooklyn district attorney, Charles Hynes, who has been the target of many of Mr. Brodeur’s obscenity-laced e-mail screeds, is up for re-election this fall, and is afraid that Mr. Brodeur will challenge him, Mr. Brodeur claims.
Mr. Hynes is prosecuting him as “political payback,†Mr. Brodeur said, adding, “We’re here because Charles Hynes is fighting for his political career.â€
The judge has been highly tolerant of - and alternately entertained and flustered by - Mr. Brodeur’s courtroom antics. The charge carries 90 days maximum jail time, and the judge will deliver the verdict. He has helped out as Mr. Brodeur has stumbled on questioning formats, and has kindly corralled the defendant in, as his questioning strayed.
Last week, Mr. Brodeur called to the stand Thomas Ritchford, a computer programmer and former Google employee who was friendly with Mr. Brodeur during the formation of the artists’ collective.
Mr. Ritchford testified that Mr. Stuckey took money from himself and Mr. Brodeur.
