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.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
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":
Sunday, April 06, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
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.
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.
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