I Hate Crappy Weather, Except When it Totally Works in My Favor

I hate snow. I hate snow so bad I'd like to spend an afternoon taking every single snowflake in existence and stabbing it with a trident. It makes driving, one of my favorite pasttimes, a complete hassle. Moreover, driving is such a necessity for me - I drive everywhere, all the time, and when it snows, driving becomes nearly impossible for me. My car literally can't make it up a small, unplowed incline. When I sit at a poorly plowed intersection, I can't just accelerate into my lane. I sit there and spin my wheels, then realize I have to wait for the next round of cars to pass before I can go. 10 minute drives become 30 minute drives, and 30 minute drives become fuckin' eternity. I hate snow.

So I was supposed to do some work today, then grab PH and jump in the car and drive 3 hours through the stupid snow to go to Aurora, Illinois to see PH's family for Christmas Eve. Of course, 3 hours in the snow would become 4 hours pretty quickly, and my patience would run out probably 15 minutes into the drive, and that would be that. Instead, since the stupid snow made even attempting the drive a near impossibility, I got to spend the day doing a little final Christmas shopping, buying myself some comic books, working on the 2nd draft of my book, having dinner with PH at our apartment, watching 5 episodes of 30 Rock on dvd, drinking wine, exchanging presents, eating ice cream, and NOT having to drive 4 hours through the snow.

No offense whatsoever to PH's family, because I would have loved to see them. But still.

God, I love the snow.

Quote of the Day

"But really, I'm fed up with the entire warlock community bitching about how fucked we are right now."

Tarknin: the New Quidditch

I had many dreams last night, some frustrating, some resulting in my death, some just oddly amusing. But there was one that was completely badass. Allow me to present the next great American past time:

Tarknin.

Tarknin is essentially a cross between hockey and lumberjacking. There is a circular arena with three teams and three large goals. There are no goalies. There are also no balls or pucks of any kind. No, Tarknin uses timber. I'm talking actual tree logs, varying in size. There are several logs on the arena at any given time. Each player has a staff or other object, and we use these staffs to corral the logs and propel them towards the goal. Every goal is worth two points.

In my dream, I got to play this game with and against friends for maybe ten minutes, and let me tell you, it was fan-fucking-tastic. And not just because I scored, launching a fifteen foot log across the arena and into our goal. The whole thing was just plain fun.

And more than that, after the game we all devised a sort of program for our Tarknin league. And when I say "we," I pretty much mean Mr. Utah designed the program. Accordingly, each player had a picture in the guide resembling themselves in the style of a World of Warcraft character. We each had badass nicknames, and some of us were depicted riding three of the four horses of the apocalypse. Only, one of them was a actually flaming orange firebear named "Hell."

Bottom line: football is for pussies.

Health Food

Made the trip back to O-Town for Thanksgiving with my family. I've got a pretty small family, and many of them are in Florida this time of year, but there were more relatives in attendance than I had expected. That was a pleasant surprise.

My favorite part of Thanksgiving with my family may have been baking cookies. Dad had the great idea of having me, the fiancee, and my parents spend a couple hours after dinner making Christmas cookies. It was a nice activity, good chance to talk about wedding plans and everything else. But the cookies themselves left a bit to be desired. Being an avid cookie dough fiend, I sampled a little piece during the construction, and detected a distinct lack of sweetness. Now, I'm also a raging sugarholic, so lack of sugar to me is a pretty meaningless concept. So I didn't mention it to my parents, and continued on with the rolling and cutting. The dough was being a bit problemmatic in that regard, but eventually we got several trays of cookies done and into the oven.

But then the cookies came out of the oven, and one got eaten. Turns out I was right. Not a single cookie had even a smidge of sugar. Even slathering them with radioactive frosting couldn't save them.

Ultimately the entire batch made its way into the garbage. Only the frosting survived.

So you learn something new every day. I, for instance, now know how to make sugar-free Christmas cookies.

Acts of War

Just when you thought the ceaseless, seemingly never-ending cycle of war and violence was about to end, Axl Rose comes along and launches an all-out assault on China.

The blame lies with all of us, really. The signs were all there, but we just too naive. I mean, the reports have been coming out for over seventeen years. Everyone said Axl Rose was working on something devastating, and China would be the target. I, for one, didn't believe it. I thought it was a myth. He had been underground for so long. Every once in awhile, a new report of progress came out. I figured he was just blustering, like all those other world powers who retire and fade into the sunset, but fire off some jingoistic comments every now and then to keep their rep alive. Axl Rose didn't have that kind of power anymore, I was sure of it.

Boy, was I wrong. Out of nowhere, Axl finally launched "Chinese Democracy." And the effects have been devastating. China has denounced it has a "venemous attack," claiming that Guns 'N Roses had "turned its spear point on China," and that this was part of a plot to "grasp and control the world."

As of 7:00 eastern standard time, nearly 45 million Chinese have been killed and another 760 million wounded as a result of this shameless and unprovoked attack.

Return of a Classic

Saturday Night Live has always been one of my favorite television shows. As I've mentioned, the show inspired me to spend endless hours of high school and undergrad writing, acting and producing my own amateur version of SNL with my friends, and eventually go on to do the same in the Law Revue show at law school. The show has been on since the mid-70's and the quality has always varied dramatically from year to year, even episode to episode. Every once in awhile, a new cast of new up-and-coming comedians breathed fresh life into the show. Inevitably those stars left for bigger and better things, and the show stagnated. For every John Belushi and Chris Farley and Will Ferrell there was an Anthony Michael Hall and Chris Elliott and Chris Kattan. And since the depatures of Ferrell and Tina Fey, the show's ebb and flow has pretty much just ebbed.

However, I'm extremely pleased to say that the past couple of seasons have brought a bit of a renaissance, with fresh actors, fresh writing, and genuinely funny sketches. Sure, the 2008 election was a huge boon to the show, as Fey returned to do a viciously funny Sarah Palin, and the other actors playing the major political players (Hillary, McCain, Obama, and Biden) were all pretty spot-on. The joint press conference with Palin and Hillary, where Palin aw-shucksed her way into the contention for the white house, while Hillary practically frothed at the mouth over her oblivious counterpart taking her spotlight, was particularly hilarious.

But it's more than that. Not only have the political sketches been sparking lately, but the rest of the sketches have been pretty damn funny too. For instance, Christopher Walken's latest appearance provided a slew of quality sketches, including the gardener who was very scared of plants, as well as the Walken family reunion. The cast, though comprised of relatively unknowns, is pretty well-rounded with funny performers. Jason Sudekis, Bill Hader (a key player in the Judd Apatow comedies), Kristen Wiig, and Will Forte have all made great additions to the cast. The latest episode (first one post-election) was hosted by Paul Rudd, and the results were still pretty funny. With this type of format, there's always going to be a few great sketches, a few terrible sketches, and the majority in the middle as hit-or-miss. But even those hit-or-miss sketches have been more hit than miss lately.

Among my favorites -

Kristen Wiig's "Judy Grimes" travel-writer character who appears on Weekend Update, who speaks in a nervous, rapid-fire way, repeatedly adding "just kidding" to every statement, which ends up being a lot funnier than it sounds.

Beyonce attempts to shoot a music video to "Single Girls," but is extremely creeped out by her new back-up dancers, played by Justin Timberlake, Andy Samberg, and Bobby Moynihan - three dudes (obviously) wearing little black dresses and high heels.

An untitled series of sketches with four guys who reminisce about an old song, then talk about how it reminds them of some absurdly perverse memory, then they all go on singing as though it's perfectly normal. My favorite exchange:

Will: Well... I'll tell you who this song reminds me of.
Amie: Amie!
Bill: No -- Courtney.
Buddies: Aw, come on!
Bill: Did you finally ask her out?
Will: I did. I remember this song was playing that night. and I finally worked up the nerve to talk to her, and she just stonewalled me. And I said, "What's wrong?" and she said she could never go out with me. I asked why, and she said, "I found out you're a pedophile." And I was, like, "A pedophile? A pedophile?! That's a pretty big word for a ten year-old!"

Who knows how long the upswing will last, of course, but for now I'm digging me some SNL for the first time in a long time.

In Defense of the Thong Song

I've got a bone to pick with Charlie's Worst Song in the World competition. The competition pitted Tiny Tim's "Tiptoe through the Tulips" against Sisqo's "Thong Song," for the unenviable title of worst song ever. The link I provided has clips for each to help you decide. I can't find any information on this competition, other than these two songs squared off for #1 in terms of pure audio feces. I don't know if there were other songs in competition and these two made it to the finals, or if the station took a poll, or if someone just picked these two.

Whatever their methods, it appears that "Tiptoe" has pulled into a commanding lead, 67-33. Rightfully so, in my opinion. After listening to that song for the first time, I had to shut it off almost immediately because I could feel my internal organs on the verge of shredding themselves in protest. I literally felt nauseous for the next 10 minutes. I don't think I've ever had such a strong physical reaction to music before. I've read a series of fantasy books where a composer stumbled upon music that could be arranged in a way so as to kill all of the listeners, and I'm pretty sure that was based on this song.

By contrast, and I know I'll draw some heat for this, but "Thong Song" doesn't even remotely qualify as the worst song ever. Sure, the topic is ridiculous and banal. Sure the lyrics are simplistic and repetitive. I'll be the first to admit, "Dumps like a truck, truck, truck, Thighs like what, what, what" is straight up fucking retarded. And yes, the overall result is annoying beyond reproach, especially considering how overplayed it was for a dark period in history.

But I believe it has at least some positive attributes, which is more than can be said for songs like "Tulips" and a few others that come to mind. For example, strip away all of the lyrics and singing, and the song has a decent Timbaland-esque arrangement to it. In particular, I can appreciate the use of the violin melody, because at least it is a break from some of the painfully monotonous and uninspired beats that plagues modern R&B and hip hop. Most of the shit today has little more than a drum beat and a terrible rapper and/or singer. This has a flippin' violin. I have to give props for that.

Also, Sisqo has some pipes. Forgot the drivel that he's saying for a moment, listen to his voice. Especially compared to today's flavor-of-the-month R&B singers. You'll notice a stark difference: he doesn't sound like a robot chipmunk (I'm looking at you, T-Pain and Ne-Yo. For a related note, see this amusing video about the relationship between T-Pain and his vocoder.) Sisqo actually sounds like a person when he sings. More than that, he's a good-ass singer.

Well...that about exhausts the list of positive attributes for this song. Still, it's way out of the "Tulips" league, and definitely not the 2nd worst song ever.

No, my friends, the 2nd worst song ever is Federline's ode to d-baggery, "Popozao." This transcends even the "awesomely bad" label (see "Ice Ice Baby" or "Rock Lobster") and moves straight into terribly, horribly, atrociously bad territory.

Still, it's no "Tip Toe through the Tulips," and that's saying a lot.

NOANSWERS

As I was telling Ismael the other day, I really think the slogan "NOBAMA" is pretty much the quintessence of the McCain campaign, and a good indication of why he will and should lose the election. I've been following the election pretty closely, from the primaries to the conventions to the final weeks. I've seen countless advertisements, read hundreds of articles and polls, and watched all the debates (except the VP debate, since only one side chose to engage in actual debate). Having witnessed all of this, "NOBAMA" is the best that McCain can come up with to answer the question of why he should be president. And I think that's pretty sad.

Some amount of negative campaigning is always to be expected at this level. Some of the attacks are bound to be nasty and personal. The campaigns, and the candidates in particular, can't always be held at fault for the things that get said. But to a greater extent, campaigns should be about why one candidate should be elected, and not why the other candidate shouldn't. Before you can start tearing down your opponent, you need a clear, resounding answer to why you should be president. McCain started that way, touting his experience, and rightfully so. The man has undeniably impressive credentials.

But as soon as Obama began his meteoric rise on the winds of "Change," suddenly McCain co-opted the theme, and proclaimed himself the candidate of change. Okay, that's a little murkier, considering McCain largely supports the same agenda as Bush did. But McCain does have some notable policy differences from Bush the Lesser, so voters could let that one slide. The title of "Maverick" was well-earned over McCain's many years in public service, so I was willing to cut him a little slack on that, despite his recent forays into far-right rather than center-right. The man's got to appeal to his base, so some of that was to be expected.

And at first glance, the selection of Palin as his running mate seemed to bolster that idea pretty handily. If there is one thing she's accomplished in her short career in public service (there is -- I've counted. Exactly one thing, in fact...), then it's bucking the establishment. Of course, calling them "The Original Mavericks" was a pretty ridiculous stretch, considering Maverick from Top Gun was around a hell of a lot longer than Palin, but whatever. All in all, McCain made a pretty successful attempt at taking the change mantle from his opponent.

Then reality set in. Palin proved to be grossly underqualified. McCain's (new) true colors began to bleed through, particularly in the debates. While Obama began to convince independants that he had the chops and the knowledge necessary to be commander-in-chief, McCain did little to distinguish himself from Bush. Truth be told, other than McCain's respect for the constitution, there weren't many.

And over the past month, the campaign has shifted toward a ratification of Obama rather than a choice between two equally adept candidates. The question has become whether Obama is ready rather than who would make a better president. And since Obama's performance has been uniformly steady if not spectacular, McCain can't win like that.

Since he can't rise above Obama, he's got to try to tear him down with fear tactics. Ooh look - he's got questionable associations. He knows a guy who was a domestic terrorist thirty years ago. He must be a terrorist too. He went to a church where the pastor recently made some pretty incendiary anti-America remarks. He must feel the same way. His middle name is "Hussein," just like that dictator from Iraq. He must be a Muslim extremist.

Or the McCain supporters will just ridicule Obama's accomplishments. The mocking comments by Guliani and Palin regarding Obama's past as a community organizer were breathtakingly disrespectful, not just to Obama but to the thousands and thousands of Americans who hold similar positions and try to make positive differences in their communities. It's a sad day when major political candidates go on national TV and mock the public service efforts of their opponents. Notice that after Palin's blithely idiotic remarks, you didn't see anyone close to Biden or Obama getting up and mocking Palin for being mayor of a town of 8 people and governer of a state with 12 people. The comedy shows in the tank for Obama may have done that, but certainly not the candidate or any public servants that support him.

So when I'm driving around and see signs that say "NOBAMA," I'm both saddened at what the McCain campaign has devolved into, and heartened by the fact that none of these attacks are working. And well they shouldn't. McCain's campaign has effectively limited him to being the "not Obama" candidate. That's a bit like being "anyone but Bush," a phrase I heard a lot from democrats during the 2004 campaign. Unfortunately for McCain, that strategy doesn't work when your opponent is actually popular, much less wildly popular as Obama has become.

So go on, keep telling us about how you're not Obama. That just underscores why most of the country won't be voting for you.

Look Up at the Sky - Not a Bird, Not a Plane, It's...Ew.

Picture this, if you will. You're hard at work studying, with your nose buried in a book, and your mind on the upcoming exam. Completely oblivious to the world around you, you suddenly realize that something just touched your hand. You didn't see where it came from -- there's no one around. It's not a fly or a bug. Instead, when you look at your hand, you see a little drop of liquid. It's not raining or snowing -- you're indoors. You can't imagine where there would be water coming from. But it looks transparent like water. Not completely transparent, though. There's just a hint of white. Almost a creamy...

Oh shit.

A sinking feeling hits you. It can't be...

That's right. You just got phantom splooged.

What's hysterical about this is that the facility manager says they've had a history of such behavior and they're worried about a resurgence. Really? You've got a history of mischievious people on the upper floors shooting their wads onto unsuspecting students?

Times sure have changed since I was in school.

Implosion

Apparently Wisconsin's football teams have begun their slow descent into hell. First the Packers lost to the Cowboys. Then the Badgers went up big before blowing it against Michigan. Then the Packers sucked it up against the Buccaneers. Then the Badgers blew it against Ohio State. Then the Packers blew goats against the Falcons. Then the Badgers got forcibly raped by Penn State.

What's next - the Packers get beat by 150 against Seattle? The Badgers lose to a Pop Warner football team?

Christ, guys. Pull it together.

"Don't Bring Enough Unless You're Going to Share With The Thing..."

It's official. Going to see Electric Six again. Awesome.

FYI, the title of this post comes from Mr. Ismael's comment to Mr. RPM after RPM bought a ticket, but had the audacity not to purchase everyone else's tickets as well.

Make sense of it if you can...

Sometimes You Win Two

Fresh off my unmitigated victory in a reconfinement hearing, last week I won my first revocation hearing ever. It was a pretty solid win for me, considering (a) the guy committed a new crime and admitted to it, (b) he had already been given a second chance (ATR) and screwed up again, (c) I didn't even have a viable alternative to revocation available, and (d) if revoked, the guy would have automatically gone back to prison for a year and a half.

Apparently I found the only ALJ who listens to reason and common sense. Also, one who buys into the "Come on..." argument.

For my next trick? Maybe I'll watch Heroes and chill for a bit.

Engage!

This will undoubtedly come as a complete shock those of you who know me, but Ms. Purple Haze and I are now engaged. I produced the one ring on Thursday, October 2, and she graciously accepted.

For those of you dying to know (ie none of you), the proposal occurred at the San Diego Zoo, in front of the hippo tank. If that sounds random to you, it means a lot to us. For one thing, hippos are blood brothers with ninjas until the end of space and time. And these particular hippos live in a sweet tank, one that doesn't even leak.

Bottom line - your old pal Vice has a fiancee, and couldn't be happier. Look upon the ring at your own peril, as you may be blinded by the side diamonds.

Sometimes You Win One

When I tell people I work in criminal defense, one question I often get is "How many cases have you won?" I have a hard time trying to explain that in this line of work, "winning" is a relative term. It can refer to the number of trials won, or the number of times a case has been outright dismissed - no deals, no negotiating, just a clean win. If you count just those two categories, than the answer is very, very few. Throw in the number of times I get a result that the client is happy with, the number goes up. Count the ones where I at least get a better result for the client than if they went without counsel, the number goes even higher.

Overall, however, it's a losing fight. And it should be, of course, because it's criminal defense, and the vast majority of people are guilty and don't have a defense. Still, getting to know these people, getting to understand why they do what they do, fighting for them - it's a rough business because no matter what you do, you're probably going to lose.

Nowhere is this more true than in the probation/parole revocation situation. You've got a person who has already been convicted and placed on probation, and is now accused of doing something else, so the Department of Corrections want to lock them up. The revocation context is almost impossible to deal with because these people don't get the same rights anymore. Revocation hearings are not trials. Evidence not normally admissible at trial because it would violate the client's rights is suddenly fair game. The burden of proof is much lower. The judge is not a judge, but an "administrative law judge," which is code for an attorney who doesn't like your guy and has no interest in what you have to say on your guy's behalf. I've had about 8 of these things, and I haven't won a single one.

Reconfinement hearings are even worse. This is where the probationer or parolee has already been revoked, and the only question is how long to lock them up for. They're going to jail or prison. That's it. There is no "winning" here. It's damn depressing.

So the other day I had a reconfinement hearing with a guy who I really felt for. He was on supervision, and he absconded. In other words, he completely left the state, for over a year, without telling his parole agent. Usually they take off because either (a) they broke the law and don't want to get caught, (b) they get stressed out because they don't have money because they don't get a job because...etc, etc., or (c) they got drunk/high and wandered off.

This guy, on the other hand, took off because he got shot in the head, and then he got jumped by the same people a little later. So I've got him asking me to have the judge let him out, because he took off for fear of his own life. I've got his family literally screaming at me because they don't think I'm doing my job well enough. I've got a DA and a probation agent who want to lock him up for at least another year. And the judge?

Well, the State set out its argument, the Agent gave his side of things, and then I made my argument. The judge, believe it or not, went for it. He actually agreed that absconding from supervision due to fear of getting murdered isn't the worst idea that ever happened. And he let the guy out, just like that.

Suddenly I'm the hero. Suddenly my client goes free, his family loves the shit out of me, and I actually won something.

Today I spoke to the agent on the phone, and he said "Wow, that was quite a victory for you the other day." I'm like "That's right, chump. One and counting. Slowly."

I didn't say that. But I should have.

Feels good to win once in awhile.

I'm Not A Religious Scholar, But...

Someone needs to do some editing on the "Islam" page at Wikipedia. I'm fairly certain the first paragraph is not supposed to read as follows:

"Islam (Arabic: الإسلام; al-'islām (help·info); pronounFuck you Shahab is a monotheistic Abrahamic religion originating with..."

Think I'm joking? See for yourself.

Proportional Response (Updated)

As avid readers of this blog (all four of you), you know I've had my share of struggles with Best Buy in the past. For example, the new-disc drive-not-attached-to-anything incident, which seemed to be resolved when they gave me a new computer, leading me to declare an armistice on today's date (9/11, interestingly enough) two years ago. Then, however, came the give-me-back-my-data-you-miserable-fuckers incident, which led to it being entirely back on, and the vicious murder of the entire east side Geek Squad.

Since then, things have settled down, for the most part. Moved out to the west side, where things are laid back, and the Geek Squad over here doesn't seem entirely cretinous. I've occasionally had issues with the new (circa fall 2006) computer Best Buy gave me, such as a malfunctioning display (which required a total hard drive wipe), a loose plug, a new power cord, and a "complete functioning stop" incident (which required a total hard drive wipe). Annoying, but again, I'm still under warranty, so at least I don't have to pay anything to get it fixed.

Most recently, my battery stopped holding a charge for more than 45 minutes. Simple enough, just have them send me a new one, right? So that's what I did. Tried it out last night. Doesn't what one would call "fit" in my computer, meaning it doesn't so much "work" as "lay there like a worthless piece of excrement." Now, this bothers me enough, because if there's one thing I can't stand, it's robots. If there are two things I can't stand, it's malfunctioning technology. I love technology - cars, phones, computers, batcycles - but I lose my shit when it stops working, because I rely so heavily on the convenience. In fact, 98% of all the yelling and 76% of all the cursing I have ever done in my life has been at broken technology. So I did a little shit flipping this morning, then cooled down, because I still have the other battery, and I can still plug it in AC (Slater)-style. Right?

Except the fucking plug wasn't working this morning, so I couldn't run it on AC power. My new battery wasn't working because it's a filthy whore. And my old battery wasn't working because - get this - I tried to charge the new and incorrectly fitting battery last night (to no avail) so my old battery decided to just hang out and die. Why not just put the old one back in and charge it? Because the FUCKING PLUG WASN'T WORKING, SO I COULDN'T CHARGE SHIT.

Take it to Best Buy. She looks, sees the plug isn't working. Says we'll have to send the computer out, it'll come back to me within 8-10 business days. I didn't kill her. I wanted to, but I didn't. I should have, of course. Because what she was leaving out was that (a) the computer would actually come back to me in 23 business days, (b) it would no longer function, and (c) once it got returned to me, I would have to send it back so they could "fix" (read: let a kid with Down's Syndrome beat on it with a hammer) it, then "rush" it back to me within "5" business days (read: 24 business days) in a slightly more functioning yet still non-functional manner.

And, oh yeah, she helpfully added that she could charge me for a data backup. Of course, if you'll recall, Best Buy only gives you your data on a disc where the files are all in .nfgh format. (For those of you not up on the current techno jive, ".nfgh" format refers to "not fucking gonna happen.") I said thanks, but (step closer and I will murder you) no thanks.

Then I thought, instead of having my computer sent out, how about Best Buy just ship me a new battery that actually fits? She said sure, they can do that. Then I realized that the new battery, if indeed it would fit (ha!), would still not be charged when it arrived. Meaning I would have to charge it using my computer and its non-functioning AC plug. Right.

Then I asked if there was any way the store could charge my flippin' crappy battery at least, so I could get my 45 minutes off of it to save some data and do some business. She's like "no, we'd have to find the exact model computer here in the store, and that's unlikely" (read: Apparently you haven't been paying attention. We don't help people here. We frustrate them. We fuck them over. We take their computers and see how many gallons of maple syrup we can pour over their motherboards before they stop functioning. If that's what you're looking for, then you've come to the right place.") So, instead of having my computer sent out and my data backed up, both never to return functioning again, I left the store enraged.

Luckily for Best Buy, I just watched the West Wing episode "A Proportional Response," where President Bartlett has to authorize his first military attack. The Syrians had shot down an American plane that was carrying doctors to a teaching hospital, one of whom was Jed's personal doctor, who just had a newborn baby girl. The President took the attack personally, initially wanting to wipe Syria off the face of the earth, but Leo and the Joint Chiefs talked him down, after a long, hard effort. Eventually, Bartlett chose a more proportional attack that didn't risk civilian casualties.

So, in an effort to be more Bartlett-esque, I have decided not to raze Best Buy from the earth. Instead, I went home and plugged in my AC adaptor. Lo and behold, I was actually able to get a charge. Seems if I don't jiggle the thing too much, I can make it work. Then I calmly dialed up Best Buy's "help" line, and had a new battery sent. The call was promising, because the girl on the phone actually wanted to know my computer's model number, so as to find a matching battery. She said that will get here in 3-5 business days. So I'll see that in a couple weeks.

Between then and now, I'll muddle through, hoping I can continue to jerryrig this power cord to keep getting a charge, and making sure all of my work and writing are backed up.

But a word of caution to the west side Best Buy - as of this moment, consider yourselves Iran. So much as look at me funny, your ass is next.

UPDATE: The new battery they sent me? The good news: unlike the last one they sent me, this actually fits into my computer. The bad news: much like the last one they sent me, it doesn't work. Apparently it is entirely charge-resistant. I left it plugged in for an entire night, then woke up and tried to use it. Nothing. When the battery was in, it wouldn't even register that the AC adaptor was plugged in. Then I switched back to my old battery, which, of course, was dead. I got that re-charged, and it worked. But the "new" one still doesn't do jack shit. Grrr...

UPDATE 2: So I've been hanging on for dear life with my old battery. It can now function without the aid of AC power for about 25 minutes.

That sound you hear is a nuclear arsenal going live. Time for a little shopping trip...

Novel

After nearly two years of work, I have finally completed the first draft of a book. I had been going at a pretty good pace until this pesky job started to take off, now I have to work during my week days. But I've plugged along, and as of Monday I finished it. Though I don't know what the correct spacing and margins should be, right now the finished product is 701 pages.

As far as the contents, you've got a basic assortment of vampires, zombies, and other badassedry. As to the quality, I can't speak to that. It's not Shakespeare, it's not Hemingway, it's not Tolkien. But I like it. Then again, I liked The Chronicles of Riddick.

Now for the editing process. I don't really know what I'm going to do with it, ultimately. But I know it's only the first of a six book series. Maybe I'll try to get published. Maybe I'll just keep it for myself.

But what's important is that I've come this far, and I can finally put that bit from Family Guy out of my mind, the one where Stewie teases Brian about his alleged novel in an increasingly high-pitched voice, just to mock him:

Stewie: How you uh, how you comin' on that novel you're working on? Huh? Gotta a big, uh, big stack of papers there? Gotta, gotta nice litte story you're working on there? Your big novel you've been working on for 3 years? Huh? Gotta, gotta compelling protaganist? Yeah? Gotta obstacle for him to overcome? Huh? Gotta story brewing there? Working on, working on that for quite some time? Huh? (voice getting higher pitched) Yea, talking about that 3 years ago. Been working on that the whole time? Nice little narrative? Beginning, middle, and end? Some friends become enemies, some enemies become friends? At the end your main character is richer from the experience? Yeah? Yeah? (voice returns to normal) No, no, you deserve some time off."

The End is Nigh

This week's signs that the apocalypse is upon us:

- Taco Bell, and their new "Volcano Taco."

Leave it to T-Bell to start marketing a pink taco. So many jokes come to mind...brings a new meaning to playing with your food....etc, etc. Also puts a new spin on their slogans. "Thinking outside the bun," indeed. Or, a new way to "Make a run for the border." How about the old "You can munch it!" A new way to "Spice up the night." Also, when they originally came out with the phrase "Fourth meal," I thought they meant food, not vagina. But this version is better. If nothing else, should contain fewer rat droppings.

And don't even get me started on the "lava sauce."

Sign # dos:

- The following sign absolutely exists on a church in Oshkosh:

This, for those of you Wisconsinites who had forsaken believing in Jesus Christ as your lord and savior in favor of the second coming, Brett Favre. In this state, we take our churching almost as serious as our Packers.

Tha Shizknight

I haven't done a comprehensive movie review in awhile. Now, however, I feel compelled, having seen the best goddamned movie ever made on two occasions. That movie, of course, is

The Dark Knight

WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD.

Don't read if you haven't seen the movie yet.

(In fact, go see the movie now. I'll wait.)

Alright, so maybe not the best movie ever made. I'm not really fit to judge that, I suppose. But I can say without question that The Dark Knight has surpassed all other movies to become my favorite of all time. As someone who loves both superhero movies and morality tales, this just blew everything out of the water for me. I went into this movie with such high hopes, it was difficult trying to convince myself not to expect the greatest movie ever. And yet, this movie met every expectation I had and surpassed them all.

Admittedly, in terms of sheer quality, the Lord of the Rings trilogy is probably better. Even taken individually, each of those movies is possibly better overall. But that's about it. I'm still in love with The Matrix and The Matrix Reloaded, but this was better. And compared to any other superhero movie, there's nothing that even comes close. That's not even a slight exaggeration. After watching TDK for the first time, I re-watched Spiderman 2 again, which I had previously considered to be the best superhero movie, edging out X-Men 2. But it wasn't even close. I mean, Spiderman 2 was, and still is (in my opinion) an awesome movie, with a tremendous story arc for its titular character and spectactular action sequences. But TDK is so epic, so sprawling, so complex, it made Spiderman 2 look like a campy kids movie. It was really kind of astounding.

So what's so great about it? Well, let's start with the obvious. The action and stunts are simply spectacular. But really, any action movie can deliver that. And sure, the cinematography is amazing, particularly the wide shots of Chicago-as-Gotham. But again, any movie can have beautiful design. The acting is solid all around - Christian Bale makes a terrific Batman/Bruce Wayne, once again. Morgan Freeman and Michael Caine add tremendous class to their roles. Maggie Gyllenhall is a step up from Katie Holmes as Rachel Dawes. And, of course, ...

You want to know where the movie really shines? With the villains, of course. As previously mentioned, I love me a good-ass villain. With this movie, you've got the Joker. Now, I thought the previous series of Batman movies started off pretty well with Tim Burton's Batman and Batman Returns. I particularly liked Jack Nicholson's Joker. I mean, come on. "Wait'll they get a load of me." Right? Classic. Kinda creepy, kinda menacing, pretty cool. Then you've got Heath Ledger. Seemed kind of like a strange choice to me. But his Joker? Fucking phenomenal. All the raving you've heard about his performance, it's all true. And what amazed me was how completely different his Joker was from Jack's rendition. Instead of the veritable Clown Prince of Crime, you've got a terrorist, in every sense of the word. I mean, he's fucking terrifying. And made all the more terrifying by the fact that the writers gave him no backstory, no real motivations other than to "watch the world burn." His introduction to the crime lords of Gotham is priceless. And his showdown with Batman in the police station is pretty heady stuff. The ultimate battle between Order and Chaos.

Then you've got Harvey Dent, aka "Two-Face." Now, his story seems almost a bit rushed, or tacked-on here. I, like many others, thought he was going to be set up to be the main villain of the potential third movie. And there's still a chance he'll reappear, I suppose. But here you really got to see his full transition from crusading good guy to monstrous villain. Harvey embodied the major theme of the movie - how the good and pure can become corrupted. At the outset, Harvey, commissioner Jim Gordan, and Batman form a tripartite alliance to bring down the major forces of corruption in Gotham. These three are supposed to be incorruptible. But early on, the Joker points out a major problem with Batman as part of this alliance - he works outside of the law. While he is trying to impose order, he is also a vigilante. While Batman Begins showed how sometimes extralegal measures are necessary when the forces within the justice system have themselves become corrupted, this movie partially explores the other side of that coin. To his credit, Batman realizes the problem, which becomes clear when other masked copycat vigilantes start roaming the streets with automatic weapons. As a result, Batman nearly gives up his cape to pass the mantle to Harvey, because Harvey represents the type of hero that Batman can never be.

In a way, this is similar to Spiderman 2, except that Bruce Wayne's decision to give up being Batman is made even more compelling than Peter Parker's decision to give up being Spiderman. While Peter does it for largely selfish (though completely understandable) reasons, Bruce nearly does it because of largely principled reasons, because a vigilante represents nearly the polar opposite of order, and when the justice system is functioning, there is no need for vigilantes. (Of course, his motives are partillay selfish as well, as he believes giving up the cape will allow him to be with Rachel. )

But it all falls apart when the Joker attempts to bring both Harvey and Batman down to his level. By destroying everything Harvey cares about, the Joker turns him into a monster like him. And he attempts to do the same to Batman, pushing him to his limit, trying to force him to break his own moral code. To top it off, the Joker attempts to show Batman (and humanity at large) that when the chips are down, all of them are corruptible by forcing them to chose between their own lives and the lives of others. And even after that crisis is resolved, Batman still has to pick up the pieces from Harvey's transformation to a monster.

As a result of all of this death and mayhem, many saw this movie as an entirely nihilistic tale, but they really missed the point. I mean, besides the obvious nod to the goodness of humanity when neither group decides to pull the trigger on the other, Batman's ultimate decision to let himself take the blame for all of Harvey's destruction while allowing Harvey to become sanctified really seals the deal. We are not a wholly debased species, even at the worst of times. Joker himself admits it during the climax, telling Batman "You truly are incorruptible." Harvey fell from grace; Batman did not. In the eyes of Gotham he did, but Jim Gordan knows the truth. His family knows the truth. Batman never broke his one rule, he never killed, he never became the thing he was fighting against. And in the end, he allowed himself to be seen as the villain rather than let the people of Gotham lose faith in Harvey Dent, their white knight.

TDK was not without its flaws. It really was LONG. Thought its really hard to say that anything should have been cut, the long runtime was certainly noticeable. And again, the apparent resolution to Harvey Dent's arc seemed kinda short shrift and abrupt. It fit in perfectly with the themes of the movie, but still, Aaron Eckhart's Two Face could have carried a whole movie as a villain (at least thematically....but it would have been really hard looking at that face for much longer). But part of that is Nolan's efforts to leave nothing left on the field. Too often you see stories that don't really cover much ground, part of which is to ensure more story remains to be told in the sequels. Here, you don't really need much more. I mean, this thing was fucking epic, whether you think of it as a superhero movie or a crime drama. In fact, one wonders how Nolan could ever hope to top this, if in fact he does make a sequel.

And it will be a shame if this movie doesn't get serious Oscar consideration due to its superhero nature. Because it's so much more than a superhero movie. It's my favorite superhero movie ever. It's my favorite crime drama ever. It's my favorite action movie ever. It's my favorite movie, ever. Period.

My score: A+
Recommendation: Just watch it. I dare you not to be blown away.

Ah, Maturity

Called a client today, left a voicemail. His voice message proclaimed it to be the inbox for one Mr. "Howie Feltersnatch."

Call me skeptical, but I do not believe that was his actual name.

Find Out Why They Call Him "Captain Hammer"

For those of you who have any interest in Joss Whedon, or Neil Patrick Harris, or Mal from Firefly/Serenity, or like comic book villains, or enjoy laughing, I strongly encourange you to check out "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog." This internet series, made by Whedon, the creator of Buffy, Angel, and Firefly, came in response to the writer's strike, and network executives who gasped at the idea of giving writers any royalties for the media they created for the internets. Remember the whole "We don't even know what the internets are, much less how anyone could possibly use them for entertainment purposes" crap they tried to pull? Well, Joss made a low-budget, relatively high quality product and made it available for FREE. So go to the link, and check it.

When you're watching, keep a look out for the Evil League of Evil, Fake Thomas Jefferson, and Captain Hammer's less-than-subtle explanation of where his title came from. Classic.

Blessed Are the Righteous

For those of you who hadn't heard, there was a shooting in a Tennessee church a couple days ago. At 10:00 am, while children of the church's congregation were putting on a production of "Annie," Jim Adkisson walked in with a 12-gauge and started firing off rounds, killing two people. When asked why he did it, Adkisson cited the church's outspoken support for liberal policies, such as support for equal treatment of homosexuals, women and minoirities. In fact, Mr. Adkisson drafted a 4-page manifesto discussing how the church was a "bastion of liberalism," and how liberals had been taking jobs he should have had. Apparently, this church's socially liberal agenda entitled Mr. Adkisson to start indiscriminately killing members of its congregation.

I guess I'm just flabbergasted by the thought process that must have gone on in this man's head. So God hates gays, right? He must also hate the people who help the gays. By contrast, Mr. Adkisson is a God-fearing white man with Christian values and Christian beliefs. These people were perverting a house of God. So, as an instrument of God's wrath, it was his responsibility to execute divine justice. Right?

I just can never fathom how these people buy into their own bullshit, the ones that think they have the responsibility to kill others who believe something other than what they believe. Especially when these people call themselves Christians. I mean, am I reading the wrong book? In my book, it says, "Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God; for it is written, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord." In my book it says, "But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you."

I almost forgot. In my book, it also says, "THOU SHALT NOT KILL."

What book have you been reading?

The Verdict Is In...

GUILTY.

I can't fucking believe it. Reasonable doubt my ass.

At Last

Another soccer game, another injury. Vice has a tendancy to play balls-to-the-wall soccer, which usually results in a nasty new injury each week. (My right big toenail has been blue and purple for like 4 weeks now, with no signs that the shit will go away any time soon.) Well, I'm happy to report my latest injury - something fucked up my ankle, leaving me gimping around the apartment.

The plus side to all of this? I finally have an excuse to use my Dragon Cane. Bad-ass.

Facism at Home

Thought I'd alert all of you unsuspecting moviegoers to a sinister plot to ruin the moviegoing experience. If you're thinking about seeing a movie at the Star Cinemas theater on PD, don't. Apparently Star has been bought out by the some unknown company with a "K" in its logo, which I assume can only be a branch of the Ministry of Love. Last night was the first time in a while that I had seen a movie at that theater, so I'm not sure exactly when this K monstrosity took over. But I can tell you about their "improvements," which seemed much akin to the UW's improvement in the transcripts department (e.g. making the transcripts $8 each rather than free, moving the registrar's office to a less convenient location, generally making them more difficult to obtain, etc.).

What improvements have the K-holes made, you ask? Well, for starters, the prices for the snacks are no longer listed with tax. So, instead of listing $6.25 for a tub of popcorn, they list $5.93, or some shit. A minor annoyance, perhaps. (Also, I believe they raised the prices. Last I recall, a large popcorn was $5.75. Maybe I'm wrong, so I'll leave that one alone.)

You want a real complaint? How about this - they will no longer give you little plastic cups for your water. Instead, they now give you conical paper cups. Flimsy, crappy paper cups that don't even fit into the cup holders! The bottoms of the cup holders have a piece of plastic that prevents the cups from sitting level. No matter how you arrange it, the cup will not sit right. So if you fill the cup, it will spill all over the floor, and onto your feet.

This, I assume, is an attempt to force people to buy the over-priced bottles of water (what do they cost now, $18 a piece?) rather than the last bastion of reasonable priced movie theater edibles - free, refreshing water. It's a complete dick move, and it made Ismael's abrupt tossing of his water cone (full of water at the time) at the garbage can and storming off a reasonable move. (Less reasonable was his later request for me to go get him another water cone.)

Further proof of the K-hole facist regime that has infiltrated Star Cinemas? They now offer only one kind of salt for your popcorn. And it's not regular salt. It's some sort of processed butter salt. What kind of horseshit is that? Butter salt isn't even the standard type of salt, so to limit our options to only that is fucktarded. Also, they no longer offer various types of flavored salts (garlic salt, ranch salt, cheddar cheese flavoring, etc) which I didn't use, but I'm sure others did. Now all we have is butter salt. Ultimately, it's still pretty good in the taste department, but that's no excuse.

Finally, and most creepily, was the admonishment that the audience receives by the movie screen just prior to the start of the film. Basically it says we needed to be on our best behavior, because there were people watching us, and would throw us out of their facist theater if we didn't obey their facist code. The crux of it was that there was a separate surveillance camera pointed at every single moviegoer in the theater, and one false move would mean our demise.

So, in conclusion, I urge you all to boycott the new K-hole Cinemas in a concerted effort to counter such assholery. Unless, of course, you want to see something on the IMAX. Or if it's right next to your house. Or if it shows a movie you want to see that isn't being shown by another theater. Or, you know, if you like facism.


SIDE NOTE - Prince Caspian is a pretty damn good movie. I have no idea if it was remotely like the book, but it was a solid piece of entertainment. I'd highly recommend it.

I Have Seen the Future, and It Is Awesome

Forget your fancy sports cars, your hybrids, your battle tanks, and your Batmobiles. (Well, maybe not your Batmobiles...) I have seen the future of automobilery, and it is much better than any of that. No need for hydraulics. No need for shocks. No need for tires.

Everybody, get your hovercrafts!!

That's right. They're finally here, real live hovercrafts. And they're awesome.

Check this video, and turn the sound way up. It's the promotional video for the first commercially viable hovercraft. Check it.

I love the future.

This One's For You, Ismael

As we crossed the road to get back to our apartment complex, PH and I were accosted by a vehicle full of women. Upon driving past us, one leaned out the window and shouted the following phrase:

"It's my money, and I want it now!"

It's Alive!

Good God almighty, our satellite TV is back on line. After three weeks of being reduced to network programming, we finally got our TV back up and online. The recent drought almost made me want Charter back (shudder, gasp). It only took one competent person three hours messing around with our satellite, in the middle of a thunderstorm and pouring rain, no less, to fix the problem. Poor guy. He was a champ.

Anyway, now I can finally get back to several pointless hours of channel surfing each day. More importantly, the return of the Daily Show and Colbert, so I can catch up on current events.

Way to Represent Your Gender

"Women's emotions are controlled by their vaginas. Vaginas interfere with the ability of women to reason. Vaginas make women moody and irrational. Women in power would make rash, illogical, emotion-based decisions. This is why they are not qualified to hold public office, and why they should not be allowed to participate in the political sphere."

This, in a nutshell, has been a dominant strain of thought regarding the role of women in politics, dating back pretty much forever. Accordingly, government has always been the dominion of men. And to a large extent, it still is, despite the tremendous advancements made by women over the past couple centuries. Look no further than American government for proof. In America, women have only had national suffrage since 1920. The vast majority of seats in the House and Senate are occupied by men - women make up just over 16% of Congress, as opposed to over half of the general population. We have never had a female president.

The question, of course, is why. I mean, really. I suppose the situation in Congress is as much the problem of incumbency as it is residual chauvanism. Members of congress just don't get defeated, whether male or female. That's why we get senators who are over 100 years old, or members of the house on their 30th term. In this system, change happens slowly, if at all.

That doesn't account for the presidency, of course, as presidents have term limits. We've had 42 presidents (not double-counting Cleveland, who was #22 and 24), and none have been women. We haven't even had a woman as a major party nominee yet. The closest was Geraldine Ferraro, Walter Mondale's running mate in 1984 for the Democratic Party. We have more and more women running in primaries, but to date, no female nominees.

Of course, this year we almost had Hillary Clinton. You'll hear the phrase "groundbreaking" liberally applied to her campain, and it was - she was a major-party frontrunner for over 10 months, and barely missed out on the nomination. As we all know, she was defeated by the equally groundbreaking campaign of Barack Obama, the first African American to be a major party's nominee for president. We've all heard how these two candidates have energized women and African Americans, respectively. And I guess that's only natural. If I was a woman or an African American, and I was a student of history and current affairs who understood the centuries of political oppression, and was frustrated by the continuing lack of proportional numbers of women or African Americans in power, I would probably also be very excited about these two candidates. (In fact, despite the fact that I'm a white male, I was very excited about both. Admittedly, I supported Obama over Hillary, and I generally think that she's a bad person. But I think both would be excellent as president, and if things had gone the other way, I would have voted for Hillary in a heartbeat.)

But then, that also brings up the problem of "symbolic" or "descriptive" representation. Basically, it's a question of whether the gender or race of a candidate actually matters. On the one hand, taking the view that we're all created equal, it shouldn't matter. A man should be able to represent women just as well as he represents men, and vice versa. Whites should be able to represent blacks just as well as they represent whites, and vice versa. With this ideal in mind, the race and gender of a candidate should make no difference to voters.

This is why I've always been pissed off when someone asks the question, "Hypothetically, would you ever vote for a woman as president?" The question only gauges whether or not I'm a sexist. All I know about this hypothetical candidate is that she's a woman. I know nothing of her positions on the issues. I know nothing of her character. Ultimately, I know nothing about her. All I can tell you is that the fact that this candidate possesses a vagina doesn't disqualify her from office in my book. Same with race, same sexuality, same with any other superficial characteristic you can come up with.

Of course, not all voters think this way. Some voters harbor gender or racial biases. They care about these superficial characteristics. A lot. Some truly believe that a woman will better represent women, or that an African American will better represent African Americans. And they may not be wrong, because politics often doesn't follow the ideal I mentioned. That's just the reality of the situation. And, in my opinion, it means that people who vote based primarly on race or gender are not foolish simply because they base their votes on these supposedly superficial characteristics.

But then there are others who I won't hesitate to judge as being foolish. Take, for example, this woman. An ardent Hillary supporter, Billie Bromer says that she is highly unlikely to vote for Obama in November now that Hillary has been defeated in the race for the Democratic nominee, despite the fact that Bromer is a Democrat. Bromer's not alone - a substantial portion of Hillary's supporters are considering either not voting, or possibly voting for Republican nominee John McCain. Now, I won't outright call these people stupid. If McCain's positions on the issues are more in line with yours than Obama's are, fine. But the voters - particularly women - who won't vote for Obama because their beloved female candidate got defeated are idiots. Just listen to this statement by Bromer, as part of her explanation of why she won't vote for Obama:

"We are homeless now and we are desperately seeking a home. We feel we have been ''abused'' by the Obama campaign and by the Democratic party.

Why would we go back to our abusers, especially when they continue to minimize our thoughts and feelings? The feminist in some of us certainly trumps any party loyalty we may have had and actually trumps any views we may have on Roe v. Wade or Iraq."

The last line is what really makes me angry. This woman is essentially voting squarely based on the vagina. The "feminist" in her trumps all other issues? Then she probably shouldn't be allowed to vote. Hillary Clinton stood for a whole lot more than simple possession of a vagina. I guarantee you she wasn't running to put a woman in the White House - she was running to push her issues, such as...for instance...Roe v. Wade, or Iraq.

Sure, why not vote for McCain? Except that his positions are pretty much diametrically opposed to those of Hillary. Sure, why not stay home on election day, let your non-vote be a boycott for your candidate getting defeated? Except that by not voting, you're not engaging in the political process. By not voting, you're making it a little more likely that the candidate who opposes your candidate's positions on every issue will get elected.

It seems to me that this woman is betraying the very principals her candidate stood for. It seems like her stance is completely irrational. It seems like she's acting out of spite and emotion rather than reason and logic. It seems like she's doing a complete disservice to herself, her candidate, and her gender.

Then again, I'm just a man. What do I know?

Motion Practice

As a lawyer, a lot of what I do is paperwork. As a defense attorney, a lot of what I do is filing motions. Most are just procedural necessities; others have real meaning. Some are pointless. Some are bound to fail. Some are bound to piss people off.

But there are others that I just love. Two in particular. I love the act of writing them, knowing their significance. But even more satisfying is the act of filing them. Whenever I hand one to the clerk, I just get that feeling. The clerks never realize the significance of the particular motion to me, but I kinda wish they did. I keep waiting for one who's in the know, one who looks down at it, then she's like, "For realz?" And I'm like "Fuckin' right." Then we high-five. It's awesome. Or, it's awesome for me, anyway.

So what are these motions, specifically?

1. Motion to Dismiss, on behalf of a client I like

2. Motion to Withdraw, on behalf of a client I hate

It's hard to decide which I enjoy more. All in all, I'd say number 1, but not by much.

Imaginationland

On Thursday, in a speech given in the pivotal electoral battleground state of Ohio, Republican frontrunner John McCain unveiled his vision of the future following four years of a McCain presidency. As a response to all of those who worry that a McCain presidency would simply be a continuation of what many consider to be the disastrous policies of the current administration, McCain envisions a golden age of relative peace and prosperity for America, where our current problems have long since been solved, and the uncertainty and disillusionment of 2008 will seem like mere bad dreams. I think you'll agree that McCain's vision demonstrates without a doubt why he should be elected. If you are ready, I would be honored to take you on a whirlwind tour of McCain's America, circa January 2013:

- The Iraq war has been won. Iraq will be a functioning democracy, and most of our troops will have returned to us. The few remaining divisions will only be staying behind to act as collection agencies, who spend their days counting the money that the newly democratic people of Iraq have graciously begun to donate to the United States to express their undying gratitude for bringing peace and freedom to their land.

- The international community will have convinced Iran and North Korea to abandon their nuclear aspirations. More specifically, Iran and North Korea will be convinced to abandon these aspirations by an international coalition of freedom-loving robots that will invade these nations, killing every single living person in sight, including Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and North Korean leader Kim Jong-il. The robots that seize power and establish their respective constitutional robocracies will have no interest in developing nuclear weapons, instead setting their sights on enslaving the surrounding nations and bending them to their merciless robotic will.

- Osama bin Laden will have been captured and killed. McCain himself will lead the expedition, hunting through the caves of northern Pakistan, and will battle Osama in a fight to the death. The fight will end when McCain distracts bin Laden by pointing behind him and getting him to turn around, at which point McCain will exclaim "Yippie ky-aye, motherfucker!" and punch a hole through bin Laden's face. Luckily, these events will be captured on film, and turned into the final installment of the Die Hard franchise, entitled Die Hard 5: Die Already.

- There will still not have been a major terrorist attack on the United States since September 11, 2001. The tide will turn for good in December of 2010, when the terrorists accidentally set off a bomb in Paris. On that day, the terrorists will finally decide to change their ways after witnessing firsthand the true consequences of terrorism, when hundreds of innocent civilians are killed. Following this shocking tragedy, terrorist leaders will band together to institute a policy of pacifist terrorism only.

- Domestically, the United States economy will be seeing an unprecedented surge. All the jobs that had been lost to developing foreign countries will return through President McCain's sweeping Employment Repatriation Act of 2009. Every industry will be seeing record growth, particularly the candy manufacturing industry. Under a McCain presidency, the American people will begin constructing life-sized gingerbread houses covered in candy canes and gumdrops. They will drive licorice cars down roads made out of peanut brittle, through forests made of lollipops and over rivers filled with sugar plums and cotton candy. The impending oil crisis will be averted when a rancher discovers a massive and untapped oil reservoir beneath Jellybean Mountain, and the price of gas will plummet to 0.85 chocolate coins / gallon by 2011.

- Siberians will stop bitching about how fucking cold it is over there.

- The problems of global warming and illegal immigration will be solved simultaneously through McCain's strategic use of Giant Brick Walls around the border. These GBW's will be approximately 1.5 miles high, will surround every American border and oceanfront, and will be made out of special Mexican-resistent and greenhouse gas-resistent bricks.

- Flying cars will have finally been invented, and will be affordable enough for civilian use. Unfortunately, they will have been invented by the robots, and will only be used by the robots to fly over foreign nations and kidnap their women.

As you can see, McCain's America is a strong, successful America, on the verge of becoming a complete utopia. But the only way to make this dream a reality is to vote for John McCain. Think about it - five years from now the Iraq war will be over, almost. Osama bin Laden will be an afterthought. Americans will no longer have to worry about terrorism, oil shortages, rising gas prices, unemployment, global warming, bitching Siberians, or illegal immigration. Really, the only remaining threat will be the robots. And honestly, you can't blame John McCain for all of our robot-related problems. Sure, some stick-in-the-mud liberocrats will point out the fact that the only reason McCain will be alive in 2013 is because of his newly designed robot exoskeleton, and the fact that McCain will be the democratically elected Supreme Chancellor of Robotica.

But, I mean, come on, people. He's just one man. (Well, technically, half-man, half machine. But you get the idea.)

Vote McCain!

McCain looks into his magical, floating crystal ball.

U(nidentified) F(atass) O(bject)s

Almost forgot to mention this. As I was walking toward the Dane County Courthouse the other day, guess who I saw? To narrow it down, let's do it twenty questions style:

20. Yes, it is a human being, barely.

19. Yes, this person is male.

18. Yes, he is an attorney.

17. No, this person does not have a soul, except for the ones he stole.

16. Yes, he does leave a trail of slime behind him as he walks.

15. No, he has never met a bag of pork rinds het didn't like.

14. Yes, he has litigated many cases in federal court.

13. No, he does not like to brag about it, he just can't help it.

12. Yes, he is much better than you, and would like to thank you for acknowledging it.

11. No, he does not like kittens, except in a stew.

10. Yes, he did recently escape being chained to a lake of fire in hell.

9. No, he didn't mind it there, except for the disappointing shortage of evilness in his peers.

8. Yes, he went to "law school" at Marquette.

7. Yes, he does teach legal writing at UW.

6. No, his grading scale does not extend past an 84.

5. Yes, he does ooze bacon fat from his pores.

4. No, he will not sign autographs.

3. Yes, he does buy his hair from KMart.

2. Yes, every time he smiles, a small child dies of heart failure.

1. No, he is not the greatest trial attorney in America. He is the greatest trial attorney in the history of the galaxy.


Who is this mystery man?

If you guessed Bob Fuckin' Kasieta, you're absolutely right.

Award yourself the number of points corresponding with the point at which you guessed correctly, and may God have mercy on your souls.

Finally, a Movie Named After My Penis

Starting the summer off right, I bring you (official) movie review numero 10:

Iron Man

Comic book superhero movies have always been pretty hit or miss. Anyone remember Superman 4 or Batman and Robin? Me neither. Then the 2000's saw a re-emergence in quality superhero movies, led by the first two Spiderman movies, the first two X-Men installments, and a reset of the Batman franchise in Batman Begins. However, as the genre became more lucrative, everyone started jumping on the bandwagon. All comics became fodder for movies, whether worthy or not. Ghostrider happened, and the death toll is still rising. The Fantastic Four and Incredible Hulk franchises seem to be in a deadlocked race to see which offering blows the most goats. Even the third installments of Spiderman and X-Men were noticeably weaker than their predecessors. And to top it all off, Lex Luthor tried his hand at yet another real estate scheme.

But there seems to be no end in sight to the superhero movie trend, as every third rate superhero is still getting his or her own movie. 2008 seems to be no different, with new Incredible Hulk, The Punisher and Hellboy offerings on the way. July will bring us The Dark Knight, which should provide the Batman franchise's pinnacle if Spiderman 2 and X-Men 2 are any indication.

Then there's Ironman. I never read this comic. I never read anything about this character. The concept is pretty self-explanatory, and kinda silly - man wears suit of metal, blows shit up. Hey, worked for Robocop, right? Except, at this point, we demand a lot more of our superheroes than simple mindless destruction and badassery. Some skepticism here was clearly warranted.

The trailers gave me hope, however. Robert Downey Jr. was cast as the lead. Not the typical buffed up pretty boy, by any stretch. Downey's got some read comedic chops, when he's not languishing in a gutter strung out on crack. To me, comedy is an essential element of any superhero movie. I mean, we're watching some completely unrealistic shit, often involving a cape and tights clad wackjob running around trying to stop the end of the world. Without some serious levity, there's only going to be laughter for the wrong reasons. (See, e.g., Attack of the Clones. "Oh Amidala, last time I saw you I was like 8 years old and you were much older, but ever since then my loins have throbbed for you. Look at how serious my expression is! Our love is so epic!" And scene.) Thankfully, Iron Man has comedy to spare. It comes at all the right moments. The first attempts at flight are particularly laugh-out-loud hysterical.

Then you've got characters. Iron Man, aka Tony Stark, is an incredibly arrogant and equally brilliant billionaire playboy who designs and glibly markets military weaponry without stopping to consider the consequences. His transformation toward having a conscience and concern for stopping the global bodycount is fairly believable, and he remains the same likeable jackass from beginning to end. Plus, the plot offers a valid criticism toward today's profiteering off of warmongering, while never actually getting preachy. A tough balancing act, but this movie pulled it off pretty well.

The action is generally pretty strong, if not spectacular. The final battle is pretty much what you'd expect, but avoids descending into outright lameness, which was a definite possibility given the setup. Overall, a rock solid effort all around, considering it's a guy in a metal suit.

And the best part - I didn't even realize there was a comic book superhero named after my penis. You see, on my first and only trip to Washington D.C. I attended a sort of young leader's conference. The students were all arranged into groups of 25, and as an introductory game we all gave our names and our favorite hobby. One member of our group, who would later become one of my best friends in the history of the universe, informed us that, as a rule, each man's penis should have a nickname based off of his hobby. The only names I can remember are "Rocky," for a rock climber friend of mine, and my own member's name - "Iron Man," based on my love of golf. I thought it fairly appropriate. And I knew Ozzy did a pretty badass tribute song back in the day, which was used to good effect in both the movie trailer and the movie itself. But now I've got a whole movie I can point at -- a damn good movie, no less -- and say, "My schlong inspired that phenomenal piece of filmmaking."

Although, to be fair, as far as tributes go, I'll always be partial to the People's Republic of China and their aptly named "Dragon Tower."

My score: A-
Recommendation: Hellz fuckin' yeah.

Attacked!

High above in its mountainous fortress, the Beast watched and plotted. Little did I know it had me it its sights, stalking me, awaiting only the right moment to spring its trap. I had ventured into its domain, a slight the Beast would not abide.

Too late I heard it move; too late did I sense the attack. I raised my hands in defense, but the Beast coiled and struck true, its talons clawing deeply into the exposed flesh of my face.

Then, victorious in its conquest, the Beast slinked away, to wait and plot its next attack.

But my scars remain, and may never heal. Forever they shall attest to the fated night when I became the hunted.

TRANSLATION: I was watching TV on the lower bunk of the bunkbed in the office of our apartment. The cats normally call the top bunk home, and occasionally jump to the lower bunk to get down. K2, aka Maggie, aka Fatpants, decided to jump down. I heard her rustling up above, and shifted slightly in my place. The son-of-a-bitch misjudged her landing and ended up landing claws-first directly on the left side of my face.

So yes, I've got some pretty sweet scars. If anyone asks, I got attacked by a jungle cat.

Sucks For You!

One of those moments happened at lunch today. You know, the kind where it's so incredibly awkward and embarassing for someone, the kind that we never ever want to happen to ourselves? Thankfully, it didn't happen to me. And it didn't happen to Ismael, or PH, who were also present. It didn't even happen to the esteemed Mr. Utah, oddly enough, though it seemed exactly the type of thing that would happen to him. On a regular basis.

The scene - myself, Ismael, PH, and another law school acquaintance were eating lunch at a downtown restaurant. All of us are criminal defense lawyers, to some extent. So, naturally, the topic of conversation came around to DA's whom we just can't stand. Our acquaintance began a rant about a particular DA that he'd had problems with recently, going so far as to call him an "asshole." That was the point where I looked up.

Lo and behold, that very same DA was sitting just a few tables away.

"He's here!" I gasped, as subtly as I could. The conversation didn't quite stop, but soon everyone realized that not only was the DA right there, but that he had probably heard a good portion of the rant directed at him.

As a young criminal defense attorney trying desperately to get treated with respect by the local DA's, I can't think of a much more horrifying thing to happen.

Except, perhaps, if it was a judge.

Oh well. At least it didn't happen to me.

I've Gotta Have More Googly Eyes

The legendary Christopher Walken hosted Saturday Night Live for the 100th time last weekend. As usual, he managed to make it funny. Here's my favorite sketch, entitled "Indoor Gardening Tips from a Man Who's Very Scared of Plants":

Geek Out

I attended the Oddyssey Convention ("OddCon ")this weekend in Madison, a three day event at the Radisson where geeks united to discuss super-geeky shit. Much of it was geared towards writers - novelists, screenwriters, poets, etc., while the rest was for fans of the sci fi/fantasy media. Being an both an aspiring writer and a big fan, I found plenty to enjoy.

The main reason I went is that my favorite author, George R.R. Martin, was the headlining guest. For those of you who've never heard of him, George is the author of the "A Song of Ice and Fire" series. Simply put, it's fucking awesome. Basically historical/fantasy fiction along the lines of Tolkien but with a decidedly humanistic approach, rather than the standard elves, dwarves, and wizards that most Tolkien-esque writers have adopted in his wake. There is some magic involved, but mostly at the fringes. Martin's books are wonderfully complex, especially if you enjoy a good amount of political intrigue, as well as copious amounts of blood, sex, death, cursing, and glory. They are quite long and increasingly bloated, but the most engaging and compelling story I've read in awhile. So getting to see him up close and personal was pretty cool.

Beyond that, I was once again faced with the (comforting) knowledge that I will never reach the astronomical levels of geekdom reached by a select few. For instance, to be a supergeek, as a man I would have to either (a) stop shaving and grow a Santa Claus-esque beard, (b) stop getting my hair cut, allowing myself a long, flowing ponytail, and (c) gain approximately 300 lbs. To become a supergeek woman, one would follow step (c), never comb her hair, ever again, obtain a set of face-swallowing, 7 inch thick bifocals, and possibly step (a), at your discretion.

Also, while I generally don't condone taking certain people and holding them up for public ridicule, there was one woman there who was so beyond geeky, so fantastically nauseating, so blissfully obnoxious that I can't not mention her. She had it all - the frizzed-out tuft of hair, the 7 inch thick bifocals, and the 200 lbs of extra blubber. She also wore the same outfit all three days. But more than that, she always sat right in the front (occasionally on the floor rather than chairs), spoke very slowly and in a nasal voice approximating that of Towelie, and constantly blurted out ridiculously stupid comments and questions. And since she was right in the front, she kept interrupting the panelists. By the second day, both fans and panelists alike cringed when they saw her enter the room. At one point, when she asked a blatantly stupid question, a panelist appropriately replied, "That's a stupid question." One of the other panelists tried to soften it, backpedaling for the guy, but he insisted, "No. It's stupid. I'm not going to answer it." Then, on the final day, she gave an absolutely perfect comment to close out the weekend. A panel was talking about multi-book storytelling, and one author referred to something as being "like juggling alligators." Then this woman opined, in her disturbingly shrill voice, "The thing about alligators is, you never know if...you've got them the way...um, wait, if they've got you...um..." And then the awkward trail-off into the oblivion of retardedness.

Perhaps she was mentally ill, and if so, I apologize. But if not, she owed everyone else at the convention an apology for inflicting her presence on what was otherwise a pretty fun weekend.

Still, enduring the atrocious hairstyles, facial hair and outfits was worth it, if only to indulge my inner geek for a little while.

How About a Little Less Insulting My Profession, A Little More "Shut the Hell Up"

Wisconsinites are retarded. Gableman? A justice of the Wisconsin Supreme Court?

You've got to be fucking kidding me.

I grew up in this state. I know the population is comprised mostly of rural, conservative people. I've always tried to be open-minded. My friends in high school were mostly of this ilk. On many a Friday night I found myself attending county fairs, stock car races, and smoke-filled local taverns because that's what my friends were into. I didn't hunt, I didn't fish, I didn't drive a pickup truck, I didn't listen to either country or heavy metal music, I didn't smoke, and I didn't drink. Needless to say, I didn't fit in at all.

But the people who did do all of those things were my friends and their friends and their families and my family. They are good, intelligent people.

Yet I know they're the same idiots who just elected Mike Fucking Gableman to the supreme court.

I've already tried not to feel better than these people. I've always been a couple steps ahead academically, but I tried to check my arrogant, elitist nature at the door when thinking about my home town and its inhabitants.

But no. Fuck that. I'm better than them. If only because I know better than to vote for Mike Gableman.

Forget the fact that he's just another bag of hot air who avoids the tough questions by pivoting back to his talking points. Forget the fact that he doesn't have nearly the requisite intellectual chops to be qualified for the SUPREME COURT. No, what galls me about this fucker is the fear-mongering tactics he used to win, specifically by dragging my profession through the mud. Criminal defense attorneys are not criminals. In the criminal justice system, we play just as important a role as the prosecutors who pronounce themselves "protectors of the public." See, we're the ones defending the down-trodden. Gableman's attacks (and don't even start with the fact that most of the ads came from independant groups, because you know he sanctioned them) equated criminals with evildoers and defense attorneys as agents of the Beast. Cocksucker.

I just love when he goes on and on about how he's not some "judicial activist" like Butler, that he would "uphold the plain language of the law." Then, at the same time, he rants about how Butler used to set criminals free by using "technicalities." Ooooh, technicalities. You know what a technicality is? In this context, a technicality is when a defense attorney asserts a defendant's constitutional right, like the right of every citizen to be free from an unreasonable search and seizure, or the right to confront one's accusers in court, or the right against self-incrimination. A "technicality" is the equivalent of "upholding the plain language of the law" when applied to criminal defendants. Gasp, shudder.

The sad thing is, it's not Gableman's fault. It's the fault of the citizens of Wisconsin who fall for such tactics. More likely than not, it's the fault of my old friends, their friends, their families, and my family. So, as our constitutional rights get increasingly eroded by justices who claim to "uphold the plain language of the law," all the while advancing one political agenda, I know whom to thank.

The Importance of Grammar

Today I observed the following bumper sticker on a car window:

"Bad-ass boys ride bad ass toys!"

At first glance, this may seem like a perfectly innocuous attempt at male bravado. However, upon closer inspection, a serious flaw becomes apparent.

Now, by no means am I a grammar Nazi. Being part-black myself, I understand the occasional need to completely eviscerate the English language. Still, I have to take issue with this particular statement. Let me break it down for you:

"Bad-ass" is an excellent word, by all accounts. Often used to describe the kung fu stylings of Chuck Norris, the latest Vin Diesel movie, and Acts of Favre. However, to be used as intended in the above bumper sticker, it NEEDS a hyphen. When the hyphen is omitted, the original intent of the sentence can be completely subverted.

For example, let's examine the phrase "bad ass toys." In this context, "bad" acts as an adjective. Without the hyphen, the word "ass" is not connected to "bad;" instead, it becomes part of the object of the sentence - "ass toys."

For a man, association in any way with "ass toys" is generally not helpful when attempting to construct a macho image. Even worse, the adjective "bad" implies that not only is an ass toy in use, but the toy itself is of poor quality or craftsmanship.

And use of the verb "ride" indicates that not only does the man possess a shoddy butt plug, but confirms that he rides it.

Proper pronunciation of the phrase thus changes from what the man intended:

"Bad-ass boys ride bad-ass toys!"
to
"Bad-ass boys ride bad ass toys!"


This, my friends, is the importance of grammar.



Also, the car was a piece of shit.

Let Them Watch Horrifically Boring Crap

Let's get right to this bitch, shall we? Movie review the whateverth:

Marie Antoinette

First of all, yes, I did watch Marie Antoinette. Yes, I still have a penis. And no, it hasn't withered and died as a result of watching this movie. It did, however, give me some funny looks during the show, as if to say, "Dude, really?" I just kinda shrugged, and that was that.

Second of all, there will be no spoilers in this review. Not because I want to spare those of you who wish to see it from discovering what happens, but because nothing actually happens. I mean, I'd love to give away all the plot twists, except there is no plot. Not even one straight line of plot. Not even the slightest hint of a plot.

Now, for those of you who might someday have even the slightest desire to watch this movie, here's what I suggest you do instead. Take your average piece of toilet paper. One-ply, two-ply, quilted, doesn't matter, just rip off a square. Now, take a piece of tape, and tape that sucker to your wall. Get a nice, comfy chair, and pull it about five feet from that square of toilet paper. Now, settle in for the next two hours, and stare at that piece of toilet paper. If you happen to notice anything about it, anything at all, you will have far surpassed the viewing experience of watching Marie Antoinette.

You think I'm kidding? Right then. I will now describe for you the entire movie, frame by frame:

- Girl in dress
- Girl in carriage
- Girl meets Patches O'Houlihan (aka Louix XIV). For some reason, Patches doesn't throw any wrenches at her. He mostly stands there, terribly miscast
- Girl meets Molly Fucking Shannon in a powdered wig
- Girl goes to France
- Girl meets her husband, Max Fischer (aka Louis XVI). Max makes no attempt at acting
- Girl marries Max Fischer, becomes princess
- Girl dances
- Girl gets new dresses
- ....nothing
- Girl eats dinner
- Girl looks forlorn
- Max is terribly awkward
- Patches gets it on with Yelena from XXX
- Idle gossip
- Max is too lame to have sex with Girl
- Patches croaks
- Girl looks forlorn
- Girl gets new dresses
- Girl eats many pastries
- Idle gossip
- Girl builds peasant village
- France has an army?
- Girl contemplates buying oak trees
- Girl does it with soldier
- Girl looks forlorn
- Soldier has completely non sequitur scene atop a hill with explosions in background
- Max Fischer mumbles a bit
- Peasants surround Versailles
- Empty room
Fin.

I kept watching, waiting for something to happen. Occasionally there would be some bizarre and terribly stupid line that would hook my interest again. My girl hit it right on the head - a kind of morbid curiousity kept us both watching. Normally I'm not one to slow down for car wrecks, but with this I kind of felt like I needed the full experience to properly appreciate it. So I watched it all, in all its car wreck glory. Kind of a slow-motion, 122 minute car wreck where none of the cars actually collide with anything, and in fact there are not even any cars present.

And that about covers it.

My Score: D
Recommendation: Only if you like pretty dresses and hate the needless distractions of plotting, characterization, drama, humor, themes, events, and things that happen

Trifecta, Part II

That sound you hear is the crowd, still cheering. In my head, of course, because no one actually comes to watch my soccer games. But whatever. Point is, Monday night I got my second straight hat trick. We played a pretty decent team, who scored the first goal. We didn't have any of our usual scorers (except me, apparently). I proceeded to score the next THREE goals of the game. It was fucking ridiculous. Not to mention our goalie, "Spiderman," who was blocking goals Matrix-style at the back. Absolutely monstrous.

We ended up winning 6-1, but I prefer this statistic: I outscored the other team 3-1.

Sometimes pimpin' is easy.

For Realz

Walking down King Street today, saw an object lying on the sidewalk. Red, cylindrical, maybe 8 inches long by one inch wide. Got a little closer. Took another look.

It was a fucking vibrator.

Swear to God.

Trifecta

I'm not what one would call a "talented" soccer player. Simply put, I don't have skillz. I never have. Soccer has been my main sport for awhile now, since sophomore year of high school, when I first started playing. Prior to that I had tried just about every sport, with varying degrees of success. Basically, I was pretty athletic, though not particularly skilled at anything. Soccer ended up being a good fit, because I could run fast and wasn't afraid to be aggressive. So I became a defensive specialist, where my job was mostly to stop the other team's offense. And I was good at it. I became team captain, and even went all-conference my senior year.

After high school, I played on some summer recreational leagues, and tried indoor soccer a couple times. Indoor wasn't my thing, because there were fewer players on the field at a time, which meant everyone had to play offense and defense. So I played, and even scored a couple times from sheer luck. But sooner or later I lost interest.

However, I started playing again this past year in an effort to get in better shape (and as an outlet for aggression/competitiveness). As I said, I still wasn't very 'skilled,' which limited my effectiveness. But I've gotten better with each game, and more comfortable trying to play offense. My teams often struggled due to a lack of players, making us play 5-on-6 (or worse) a lot of the time. We had some pretty good players, but having to play all 50 minutes with no substitutes really wears on you, no matter how good you are. For this session, however, our team suddenly has more people. We also imported one player who appears to be the equivalent of Superman, who can score from anywhere on anyone. So things have really picked up. We won our first two games against pretty good teams.

Last night we had our third game. It started out horribly. The other team had a guy (#13, for future reference) that was like the Anti-Superman, with all the powers of Superman, only using his powers for evil, since he played for the other team. For the first half, none of us played all that well, and #13 led them to a 4-1 lead. In particular, I blew some serious goats, including shanking a wide open shot from a couple feet away on a beautiful pass from Superman. That was a great feeling. Again, I felt like my complete lack of technical proficiency had come back to haunt me.

But the second half was another story. When I entered the game, we were down 4-2. Our goalie, hereafter known as Spiderman (due to his quickness, sticky fingers, and general spider-like mutations) was keeping us in the game with some pretty ridiculous saves. He had directed us to gang up on #13, which I made a point to do in the second half. But first, I got down toward the goal, and Superman set me up for another shot. This time I blasted it right into the goalie's face. Frankly, I was surprised they didn't call me for a dangerous ball, because it really was. But the shot, which careened off the goalie's face and into the goal, counted, bringing us to within one goal. Then, about a minute later, I stole the ball from someone, dribbled it the length of the field (pitch, if you're a purist), beat their last defender and drilled another goal to tie the game.

Let me tell you, scoring is an awesome feeling. The whole game stops, the defeated goalie has to retrieve the ball, and you get to do a victory trot back to your half of the pitch. I don't often get to enjoy that feeling, but getting it twice in a minute was amazing. Not to mention shocking.

I left the game shortly afterward, and soon we were losing again. We had one player who, through seeming frustration, would not leave the game, no matter how tired he became. #13 went on a spree, and soon they were up 7-4. Then Superman returned to the game and got us another goal to bring it to 7-5. I returned to the game, and once again made it my mission to shut down #13. I got my chance pretty quickly, when he got the ball at mid-field, one-on-one against me. If he beat me, then he would have had an open run against Spiderman, who, though awesome, would have been hard-pressed to stop #13 without any assistance. Fortunately, I ate that fucker up. I stole the ball, passed it off, and someone else passed to another person who scored.

Not long after, I had another opportunity. Someone kicked it toward #13, but a little past him, so he would have to run to it. I beat him there, drilled the ball away, and once again someone dished it off to someone else who scored. And just like that, we were tied again, and we had all the momentum.

If I remember correctly, the next thing to happen was our tiebreaker. We had a bunch of people on offense trying to make something happen, and I was one of them. Someone passed me the ball, and I had a fairly decent opening, so I fired another shot. The goalie charged at it, but the ball ricocheted off one of the other opponents' shoulder, dropped over the goalie's head, and into the goal.

That's right -- three goals for the Viceman. I don't know how to explain that. But it happened, I swear to God.

We had the lead until somebody slipped past and hit a really tricky shot to tie it up again. But our defense held them, and I'm pretty sure Superman hit the next goal, making it 9-8. I came out soon after that, and in the final minutes someone got another goal to ice the game. We won 10-8. It was fucking fantastic. To know that we beat a good team by coming from three goals down - not once, but twice - and to know that I helped lead the charge each time (despite my staggering incompetence in the first half) was an amazing feeling.

Really, who needs actual skills when you've got luck?