I'm not sure I want to live in a neighborhood with so much gunfire that police set up special equipment to track the source of the gunfire:

A NEW WAY TO TRACE A GUNSHOT TO ITS SOURCE
The sound of gunshots has become such a routine part of the urban cacophony here that the police say many residents do not even bother to call them anymore.

But starting next week, members of the East Orange Police Department will be able to "hear" the gunshots themselves through a network of high-tech acoustic detectors placed on utility poles and lampposts throughout the city. The system, which cost $300,000, can triangulate the location of gunfire within three to five seconds and relay the information to officers.

"We will be able to respond so much faster to gun violence, in some cases by several minutes," said Jose M. Cordero, the police director. "We needed to find new ways of policing. If we do not change, we are not going to win against crime."

The sensors, which have been used by the military since 1996 to pinpoint the location of snipers but have become available commercially only in the last year, may conjure up Orwellian visions of Big Brother eavesdropping on street-corner conversations. But Mr. Cordero said that the sensors can pick up only "specific acoustic vibrations" associated with gunfire and can distinguish between gunshots and firecrackers.

Who wants to take bets as to how long it takes before the acoustic sensors become the next target of choice for firearms practice?

Maybe the information gleaned from the acoustic sensors will be less controversial in court, when establishing probable cause for example, than the analysis of the Kennedy assassination police dispatch tapes that tried to figure out how many shots were fired that day in Dallas.

Don't worry, Greg. I saw them do this on an episode of CSI-Miami. There wasn't any problem, and they caught the bad guy by the end of the hour.

Thank goodness for CSI keeping America safe, and all in the space of an hour (including commercials).

I had a pathologist on the stand yesterday that said she used to tell juries that her job was not at all like Quincey and now she has to tell them its a lot more like Quincey than CSI.

Wow, what a great idea. Of course, I am looking forward to them posting them in my neighborhood. I don't think it's needed for the gun shots, as I haven't heard any. I'm just hoping that they can tweak the acoustic range and pick up the sound of the crack baggies crinkle as they are exchanged just one street over.

At the local big box store tonight, in the toy section, I saw two new toys, the "CSI" fingerprint kit, and the CSI Forensic Facial reconstruction kit. They had them on display on the aisle end, so they must expect to sell a few.

Question: How long before some citizen (well meaning or otherwise) with absolutely no law enforcement training or aptitude, picks up one of these babies and does a little of their own investigating?

One more reason to repeal the exclusionary rule as applied to citizens.

This is a little off-topic, but all of the talk about the CSI TV shows reminded me of this:

This summer, my 10 year old daughter attended a day camp at Texas Tech called "Caprock: CSI." The kiddos spent a week investigating a crime scene and learning about the science of investigation. When I picked my daughter up after the first day, I asked (as parents often do), "How was your day?" She said (in that condescending tone that is genetic in 10 year olds), "OK...I guess. This whole thing is so fake." "What were you expecting," I asked, "real blood and a body?" "Well...the blood's all just paint. And they don't even have a body...just a dummy." "Well," I said, encouragingly (as parents often do...unseccessfully), "I am sure you will still learn some neat stuff." "But Dad," she said, maintaining her condescending tone, "I looked at the crime scene and some of the blood was on top of the crime scene tape." It took me a minute. Because I am old and slow.

She still had a great time. They got some fingerprint powder...which she brought home. That was a big hit with my wife.