Treason This! (Points to Genitals)

So every state has its share of anachronistic laws. Most the legislature just forgets about, then never makes an effort to change. For example, this state must have had a big problem with people stealing (or at least claiming title to) sunken logs on submerged state lands. How else to explain Wis. Stat. section 170.12? Or how about Wis. Stat. section 172.08, an entire section dedicated to the procedure for dealing with rams that escape their enclosures between July 15 and December 1 of the same year. And if you're interested, the owner of the stray ram has to forfeit $10 for every time that slippery bastard gets away and taken up by someone else. By the way, it's perfectly cool to take up an unclaimed ram, provided you post notice with the town clerk. The owner of the ram can then pay his $10 plus a hefty $0.50 (that's right, fifty cents) for the clerk's fees to get the bugger back.

With that in mind, I'm keeping an open eye for any other old school statutes. And on a hot tip from a hot lady, I checked out Wisconsin's treason statute. Yeah, you heard me, Wisconsin has its own treason statute. It reads as follows:

946.01 Treason.
(1) Any person owing allegiance to this state who does any of the following is guilty of a Class A felony:
(a) Levies war against this state; or
(b) Adheres to the enemies of this state, giving them aid and comfort.
(2) No person may be convicted of treason except on the testimony of 2 witnesses to the same overt act, or on the person's confession in open court.

So many questions.....let's start with these:

1. How do we know when we "owe allegiance" to this state? Do you have to be born here, or just move here, or have relatives here? What if you have none of the above, but you still root for the Bager?
2. Can individuals declare war against their own state? For that matter, can we declare war on other states? For instance, what if I wanted to send the calvary north west to sweep through and conquer Minnesota, while sumultaneously sailing my fleet across Lake Michigan and wiping those fuckers out?
3. What constitutes "war" for this statute? Can I bust out the nerf guns and paper airplanes, or do I need a real arsenal? Or will a war of words count?
4. What do they mean by "adheres to?" Like, physically sticks to? Like those shows where somebody gets propelled by a catapult and flung against a wall coated with some weird sticky substance? Because that's the image I'm getting.
5. Who constitutes "enemies" of the state of Wisconsin? Simply based on collegiate and professional athletics, at a minimum the Axis of Evil would include Michigan (UM), Ohio (Ohio State), Minnesota (Vikings), Illinois (Bears), Texas (Cowboys), and K-Fed. What about specific groups or specific people?
6. What does "giving them comfort" mean? It sounds kinda dirty. Like "Hey Minnesota, you look like you've had a hard day, what with Wisconsin consistently kicking your ass in everything, including number of lakes, sports competitions, and having fewer Minnesotans. Why don't you rest your head on my shoulder, and I'll make you feel good..."

Also, if you check this statute out, note that the Legislature updated it in 1993. That's right, this is the text approved by the legislature as recently as 14 years ago. So what did they change? The language in 946.01(2) which used to read "on his confession in open court," so that it is now gender neutral.

Huh. Seems like the statute has bigger problems than gender confusion. Such as the very fact of its existence. This is why I want to go into politics. So that one day I can say "Sure, this bill is nonsensical, anachronistic, and abundantly retarded, but at least it's politically correct."

Prior to that day, however, I declare war on the State of Wisconsin. Why? Well, uh...it's going to snow at some point, that pisses me off. Plus, the Boston Market on the West side closed, and the nearest one is now in fuckin' Brookfield. What kind of state leaves you at an hour's drive from the nearest BM? Assholes.

So that's it. The guantlet's been thrown. Come and get me.

Business As Usual

Suddenly I've got a bunch of new clients, as well as the potential for clients that would actually be paying me directly. Now I've got to think about the whole business aspect of things, like fee retainers, malpractice insurance, letterhead.....

Anyone want to go into business with me? First step is to start a company. I'm thinking something along the lines of "Chuck Norris Law Offices," or "Justice, Ltd."

Holy Cliched Claptrap, Batman!

Do not, do not, do NOT let anyone force you into watching High School Musical. I watched it last night with KH and little sister, and going in I kind of wanted to see it. I remember enjoying TV shows and movies about high school, and even now I can enjoy them, to an extent. And I can appreciate a good musical. So I thought that based on this show's popularity, it must be something witty and fresh and insightful.

Um, no.

It's from the Disney Channel. I did not know that beforehand. I also didn't realize how patently stupid it could be. I mean, I'll take this with a grain of salt -- it's aimed at people probably 10 years younger than me. But 10 years ago, I would still have found this insulting to my intelligence. Sure, high schools have cliques, and stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason. But I've never seen such a ridiculously stereotyped view of high school. Ever.

Basically this story is about a bunch of one-dimensional characters desperate to prevent other characters from becoming two-dimensional. There's a whole theme of being who you are, but the portrayal is unrealistic to the point of laughable. Every character is assigned one trait. At more than one point in the show, the male lead actually laments, "I don't want to just be basketball guy." Seriously. In other shows, you get stereotypical labels, and the defining characteristics that go along with that label. Not here. All you get is what you do. Jocks play sports. Grunge kids dress like grunge kids. Smart kids participate in science competitions. And that about covers it.

So when basketball guy and science girl decide they want to try singing, the whole school flips out. Other people start to develop a second character trait. Random Jock also likes to bake. Grunge Kid #1 plays the viola. Fat chick likes hip hop dancing. Oooh...but that's all they do. It's like the writers thought they needed to boil this concept down to the most simple terms possible for their target audience to understand. Did kids get a whole lot stupider in the past decade or so? Judging by the rampant popularity of this movie (and its sequel), I'd have to say yes.

I'd love to sit and pick out the individual points I thought were really maddening, but I'd be here all day. I've already wasted too much time on this post. I really intended just to make it three lines long, but I felt it needed context. Anyway, don't watch the movie.

Once Again It's On

I applied to you once before. It was a position that I was more qualified for than any I've applied for. I was told the interview process would be simple, that anyone who's not a total idiot makes it past the first screening interview. I went to the screening interview, and it was probably the best interview I've ever had. Then I got a letter saying you were sorry, that I would not be getting another interview. Huh.

That was a pretty strong kick in the nuts, considering I know some of the people you've hired in the past, and, while there are some notably badass exceptions, more than a few are completely incompetent. I never found out for sure why I didn't get another interview; I was too bitter to call and find out.

Now you've begun accepting applications again. Best believe you can expect to see me. For real, this time.

Three Down

This just in - Attorney General Alberto "I Have No Respect For the Constitution" Gonzales has just resigned, adding to the list of key players in the Bush regime who have resigned this year, which includes former Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld, and former Puppetmaster General Karl Rove. Let's look back at the highlights of Gonzales's tenure as chief prosecutor for the United States:

a. Warrantless wiretapping and eavesdropping = okay.

b. Lying to the House and Senate Judiciary Committees = okay.

c. Civil rights for detainees of Guantanamo Bay = not okay.

d. Firing U.S. Attorneys for purely political reasons = okay.

e. Trying to manipulate a hospitalized and barely coherent former AG into reauthorizing the wiretapping bill over the acting AG's orders = okay.

f. The right of habeus corpus = nonexistent.

So why resign now? I guess if you take all your orders from Karl Rove and Rove resigns his post, there just isn't much left for you to do. Or maybe Gonzales figured his assault on the rule of law just wasn't working as well as he had hoped.

Anyway, to you Mr. Gonzales, farewell and good riddance.

What Are You Still Doing Here?

At this point, complaining about President Bush's screwups has become pretty pointless. There will be no impeachment; driving around with an "Impeach Bush/Cheney" bumper sticker is akin to driving around with an "elect Dukakis/Bentsen in '88" sticker. In other words, get over it -- it's not happening. Even with election season just around the corner, the hard reality is that we've still got 14 more months of him (19 if you count the two months until the newly elected president gets sworn in and Bush officially leaves). So we've got a solid year left of Bush continuously one-upping himself in making the worst decisions possible. Every time I hear the latest Bush policy, I think to myself "That's the worst idea I've ever heard," but then he always does himself one worse the next time. So it's hard to complain about each one, because you know the next will be that much worse.

Today, however, I find the need to say something. This isn't the worst thing ever, but it's pretty damn insulting. I'm referring to a recent Bush speech where he argued that we ought to stay in Iraq, and as his support, reasoned that we should have stayed longer in Vietnam. No wait, there's more. He gave this speech in front of the Veterans of Foreign Wars.

There are several ways you can interpret those statements, no doubt. But personally, if I had been one of the veterans at that speech, I probably would have interpreted it thusly: "If only we had stayed in Vietnam.....more of you fine folks would be dead right now."

I'm not sure I've ever witnessed such a brashly selective view of history. First, he ignored practically every lesson to be learned from Vietnam (such as don't engage in foreign wars based on political ideology rather than an actual security threat), downplayed the whole "quagmire" possibility and charged into an ill-prepared and ill-designed war. Then, once the whole thing goes to shit, when we're stuck without any real solution, when hundreds of thousands of lives have already been lost - THEN he looks at Vietnam. I'll be damned.

I'll admit, the American withdrawal from Vietnam was poorly executed, and resulted in some pretty serious problems such as destabilization and countless refugees that needed to flee the area. And yes, it does have a strong paralell to what is happening in Iraq today. And by no means am I saying we ought to be high-tailing it out of Iraq, because I have no idea what the best solution is. But for the love of Christ, is he really that ballsy to bring Vietnam out NOW and throw it in our faces as a reason to support him, after we've practically shouted VIET-FUCKING-NAM at him for years and years? Apparently, yes.

Maybe it doesn't matter at this point. Maybe, like the article says, it's just a last ditch gambit for a president with nothing to lose. I guess there's no such thing as negative-credibility. But still... I never ceased to be amazed at the depths this man is willing to sink to.

A Reason To Watch Heroes Again

Last year's abysmal season finale of Heroes left many of us contemplating whether we would even watch the next season, or at least left us looking forward to the season with a disinterest bordering on complete apathy. For one thing, they were rumored to not be starting the season until January or February like many other serialized shows (Lost, Battlestar Galactica, 24, Your Mom's a Horcrux, etc.). Apparently that's changed, and they will be starting up this fall again, but still....I, for one, was losing interest real fast.


Now, however, I have a reason to watch. Heroes has announced that they have just added Kristen Bell to the cast as an enigmatic new character. For those of you unaware, Kristen Bell was the titular star of the recently cancelled series Veronica Mars. She also happens to be my favorite actress on television. Or possibly anywhere, for that matter. For starters, she has serious acting ability, and can be play anguished and dramatic equally well as hilarious and goofballish. She's got mad sarcasm skillz, and is damn cute to boot.

So, you can bet I'll be watching when Heroes picks back up for Season 2. Let's just hope they give Bell a character worth playing, and the viewers an apology for spitting on us during the finale.

Wanted: Experienced Lyger Trainer

Cruising the job bank today, I found a posting by the Department of Corrections for an Administrative Specialist. Now, this is a non-legal position so I figured I wouldn't apply, but I decided to at least look at it since it is tangentially related to criminal law. The posting is pretty standard, until you get to the listing of job knowledge and abilities they want. At this point, you find out that whoever drafted this posting is a big Napoleon Dynamite fan. The following is an excerpt from the requirements:

"Job Knowledge, Skills and Abilities:

Extensive skills in using and maintaining confidential information.*
Extensive telephonic skills.*
Skills in oral communication sufficient to relate to professionals, managers and the general public.*
Conflict resolution skills.*
Organizational skills.*
Skills in written communications to prepare well organized and coherent correspondence.*
Skills in using automated information systems.*
Skills in hunting centaurs.*
Skills in using software, including Microsoft Word and Excel.*
Skills in using data to prepare reports.*
Record keeping skills.*
Computer hacking skills.*
Problem solving skills.*
Time management skills."

Okay, so I threw in a couple extra there, and sure, they didn't spell "skills" with a 'z.' But I love the fact that, rather than just giving a general "Job Skills" heading and listing X, Y, and Z, they give a general "Job Skills" heading and still make sure to include the word "skills" in every requirement. So either the DoC places a premium on redundancy or the poster had a little fun on this one.

For the Record

If you notice a fairly large bruise under my chin, the giant bandage on my knee, and the band-aids on my palm and finger, to be clear, these injuries were all sustained in a recent ninja attack. I did not receive them while rollerblading way too fast down a hill, spinning around and smashing my jaw into the concrete in an astonishing display of rollerblading ineptitude. Any reports you here to the contrary are lies, all lies.

Forward

Having read Mr. Ismael's reflections on moving, I have to agree, the process is awful. Sorting through your old stuff, wondering why on earth you have most of that crap, deciding what needs to be kept, boxing it up and throwing out the rest, cleaning out the disgustingness, loading the boxes into a moving contraption, then unloading and unpacking everything you just boxed up - I can hardly think of a bigger pain in the ass. You're basically being forced to uproot your whole existence and move on in search for a better place. It's kinda like being a Native American, except without all the drinking.

The upside? I no longer live in a place I'm ashamed of, that I don't care what it looks like, and that I dread having to show to anyone. I now live in a place that I'm proud of, that I actually want to clean and keep nice, and that I'd love to have people over to see. Most of it is due to my girl's interior design mad skillz (for instance, getting things that match other things -- genius), which tend to make the apartment look pretty sweet. We're still lacking some furniture and other minor touches, but it is coming together nicely.

Even cooler -- everything works. Other than my parents house, I've lived in three dorms and two tiny apartments. (Plus KH's old apartment, which I frequented like a common squatter for awhile, before quasi- moving in, which I don't really count in my analysis.) I would always be lacking things, or things would break, just the basic modern conveniances, and it would be frustrating as hell. Even at KH's place, the lack of a dishwasher was maddening, and the shower was either haunted or just vindictive with the consistently freezing or scalding water temperature. Now, however, we have pretty much everything we need, except an in-home washer and dryer. But we've got plenty other amenities to make up for it, like the unbelievably handy patio door, and the fact that I can accidentally (and repeatedly) leave the car or apartment doors unlocked without worry of having it stolen/transientized.

So yeah, moving is exhausting, and it casts a depressing light on part of your life that is ending, but there is plenty to look forward to once the move is completed. Not just with the apartment, but with life in general. Just think of it this way -- you're leaving behind the parts of you that are unnecessary, carrying the best parts of you forward, and hopefully moving to a better place.

I Think I Need a Wheeliebag

So the strap on my computer case broke today. This makes five computer cases I've had, and on each one, either the clip holding the strap broke, or the clip physically ripped out of the lining of the case, making it impossible to use the strap. At this rate, I go through computer cases almost as fast as your mom goes through horsecock.

(Normally I would point out how badly I just burned your mom right now, but from what I hear, she's already burning.)

Apparently computer cases aren't meant to hold anything in addition to the laptop. Which is a problem for me, because I need it to hold several files, random papers, additional notebooks, some Rolos, my keys and wallet, and other things from time to time. Now, it may be my fault for putting all of this stuff in the case, but if I don't, where else will I put it? I need these things with me. I'm not going to carry a backpack in addition to my computer case. I've tried that, and its just awkward. As far as I'm concerned, I shouldn't have to haul multiple bags around when one should suffice.

I guess I'll just go back to carrying my laptop in my backpack, if I can clear some room. That, or I'll become part of the problem. I'll get a wheeliebag. No problems with straps breaking off there. I could even get like two or three bowling balls and drag them suckers around, smashing into people's legs, rolling over people's feet, and making sure to disrupt the flow of all pedestrian traffic in my wake.

Of course, I'd have to keep my guard up, because wheeliebags are a gateway drug to greater assholery. First wheeliebags, then I start spoiling the ends of movies, then I stop shaving and start ordering people not to eat meat, and next thing you know its pink shirts all over the place.

Ah yes. The path to the dark side takes one step at a time.

Read a Book, N*gga!

As an avid fan of hip hop, I'd be the first to admit that rap has really hit the skids lately. And by lately, I mean the past several years. To be perfectly honest, I've never really cared that much for the genre's lyrics -- the production is what hooks me. This is why I've never gotten much into the underground scene; the lyrics may be much more intelligent, but the production is comparatively lacking. I'll admit that I mostly listen to the mainstream -- Jay-Z, Snoop Dogg, Ice Cube, etc., and although I think my favorites are better than the vast majority of mainstream rap, they're still mainstream, which equals a general lack of substance and often dumbed-down lyrics. So I tend to take the blatant violence, misogyny, criminal references, drug references, and straight-up stupidity with a grain of salt. If the beat knocks, I can generally overlook quite a bit of asinine lyrics.

For me, rap is all about the attitude -- confidence, charisma, defiance. Everyone's got an internal rhythm, and mine happens to be set to the beats of Dr. Dre, Timbaland, and Just Blaze. I don't know why; maybe it stems from a subconscious rebellion against the music of the area I grew up in (country) and the music of the people I grew up with (alternative and metal, primarily); or maybe its something deeper. I don't know. It's just a part of me.

Over the past couple of years, I've branched out a bit in my tastes and listen to a broader selection than I used to. However, I still tend to refrain from participating in discussions of music with my friends, primarily because (a) I don't know what music they're talking about, or (b) I don't understand it in the same way they do. Same way with my music - I don't talk to other people about it for those reasons. I also shy away from playing it around them for this reason, but another reason is that, as I've explained, most rap sounds stupid. If people don't feel the beats the same way I do, they'll just listen to the idiotic lyrics and dismiss it as terrible music. Which, of course, they have every right to do.

Still, I've got a recommendation for everyone. Check out the song "Read a Book" by Bomani "D'Mite" Armah. Better yet, check out the video for it on YouTube. At first glance, you'd swear this is by Lil Jon, and I had thought it was until this morning when I did a little digging. It's actually a parody of Lil Jon, or at least a parody of the Chappelle Show's take on Lil Jon.

So what's the song? Fucking brilliant, that's what. Rather than following the usual rap stereotypes, talking about dealing drugs, buying expensive cars, and having sex with as many women as possible, this song advises its listeners, among other things, to read a book, buy some land, raise your kids, and wear deoderant. Simple, certainly, but a positive message for once. Basically, the song is meant to be a satire of how terrible rap has become.

More importantly, the style of the song is brilliant. He does it in exactly Lil Jon's style - short, repetitive, and obscene lyrics. He even throws in the trademarked "Okaaaay!" at a choice moment. Plus, the song is set to a really cool orchestral arrangement. It's got these clashing elements of positive messages and orchestral backdrops versus seemingly dumbed-down and repetitive lyrics filled with obscenities. It's amazing.

I won't tell you the lines here; out of context it wouldn't be as funny, plus I wouldn't want to ruin the effect for if and when you hear it. But please, everyone, check it out.

World News Update

ISLAMABAD, Pakistan (AP) — On Friday, Pakistan criticized the U.S. government for the continued funding of NASA's Phoenix Mission, a Mars lander that is headed to the red planet to look for water and carbon compounds that could signify life on Mars. Top Pakistan officials said continued support of this program was irresponsible and will likely lead to invasions from hostile alien nations.

"It's a very irresponsible action, that's all I can say," Pakistan's Foreign Minister Khusheed Kasuri told AP Television News. "As global terrorism becomes an increasing threat to all nations, this is no time to be meddling in the affairs of extra terrestrial life forms. Suicide bombers will seem like a minor threat compared to weaponized space lasers that any invading race will likely possess."

In protest to the Phoenix Mission, 1,000 tribesmen rallied in Miran Shah, the main town in North Waziristan tribal area, condemning the American government by burning an American flag and chanting slogans against the United States. "Down with America! Down with outer space! Death to all space invaders!" local cleric Maulvi Mohammed Roman cheered, spurring on the rally.

After this demonstration, the Taico Corporation of Japan asked whether the protestors intended

to condemn the video game "Space Invaders" and its isometric depictions of death-ray wielding alien life forms, originally developed for the arcade and Atari gaming platforms.

In response, protestors reassembled in Miran Shah on Monday and burned another American flag.

A confused spokesman for Taico then issued a statement asking for clarification on what exactly the American flag had to do with whether Pakistan condemns the "Space Invaders" game.

When reached for comment, Pakistani Foreign Minister replied, "Because." He later added, "Death to America!!"

Question

So what do you do when you know your client is the victim, but everyone involved in the incident, including the five people that jumped her, the "friend" that set up the encounter, the neighbors who saw it happening and opted to steal from her purse rather than stop the fight, and the cops who came in at the last second and only saw her fighting back, will say that she was the one who committed a crime?

High Tech

Apparently my RAZR's got powers beyond anything mentioned in the sales pitch, specifically the ability to call people of its own accord. Yesterday I went to pick up my girl after she was done with work, and I left my phone at home. As I was pulling in, she was on the phone checking a missed call. The missed call had come from me, only moments before. When I got home, I checked my phone -- true indeed, my phone placed a call to hers that lasted 1:41 long. It usually takes about 3-5 minutes to get from my apartment to her work, depending on traffic, and last night was no different. Therefore, it appears that, after I left the apartment, my phone decided to call hers. My only conclusion can be that my phone is trying to hit on my girl behind my back.

The other thing is, now every time I set my phone down for a bit, I have to check it again to make sure it's not making calls in my absence. So if anyone tries calling me in the near future and my phone seems to be turned off at an unusually early hour, assume its because I don't want my phone to stay up making calls all night.

An American Hero

CNN talk show host Glenn Beck ought to get an award for his show last night. Commenting on the steam pipe explosion that occurred this week in New York City, Beck first chided the witnesses, most of whom panicked when it happened. Then he suggested this shows a greater problem, that we are all completely unprepared for the next terrorist attack. Then he and a couple of guys discussed how to be prepared for such an attack.

If I may be so bold, on behalf of the citizens of New York, I say thank you, Glenn Beck. Where would we be without people like you? By "people like you," I of course mean "fat, rich television pundits who sit behind their cushy news desks hurling criticism down the mountain at people who actually experience these events first hand." Thank you, Mr. Beck, for pointing out exactly who among us is letting the terrorists win.

First of all, some massive explosion occurs in the middle of Lexington Avenue in downtown Manhattan, and the first thing people do is panic? What the hell is the matter with them? Are these people so easily frightened that all it takes to upset them is a massive explosion? Do they think they're doing a service to anyone by running for their lives and ensuring their own safety? What cowards. If Glenn Beck had been standing there that day and a steam geyser shot up higher than the 77 story Chrysler Building, creating a deafening roar as it rained soot and chunks of concrete down on bystanders, and putting a giant crater in the middle of the street, you know he would have stood firm and looked to rescue other people.

Second, this just goes to show that when you don't spend every minute of every day waiting for a terrorist attack to occur, the minute one actually does, you're probably screwed. The next big attack could come at any moment; it could kill hundreds, thousands even. It could happen anywhere, by any means, from anyone. And if that isn't enough to make you afraid, and if you don't spend every day living in fear, then clearly, you may as well be a terrorist yourself. For shame, America. For shame.

Finally, everyone should go out an get themselves a "Go Pack" for when the next strike happens. Sure, go out and get a backpack, and fill it with a flashlight, a first-aid kit, some rope, some basic food supplies, a blanket, and you'll be the most prepared citizen in case of an attack. That way, if you're standing on the street and a building next to you explodes, surrounding you in a firestorm complete with shattered glass, ruptured concrete, and twisted steel, you'll be able to...um...eat an energy bar, and clean up some minor cuts and bruises. Just hope you don't have a massive slab of concrete smash down on your skull, because then you'll be just as unprepared as anyone else.

So here's to Glenn Beck, a real American hero, for pointing out the faults and inadequacies of others in a crisis, while not ever having to face a real crisis himself.

Score!

So while the State is working on its appeal of the dismissal in that big case I've mentioned, I took a moment to look at some of the other charges, which seemed pretty much indefensible. Lo and behold, I found a little problem with one -- a fairly subtle twist on one of the elements, because the case law actually narrowed the statutory language quite a bit. To the point where our client didn't actually do what the statute was designed to prohibit.

Last week I knocked out a motion to dismiss, and this week we found out the State moved to dismiss the charge without a fight.

Boo-yah, bitches! (Oh yes, I'm taking boo-yah back.)

For those of you keeping score at home, that's 3 out of 6 charges dismissed.

Yes, Mom. Yes They Do.

I was having lunch with my parents the other day, trying yet again to explain the difference between my taking appointments for the SPD and trying to get an actual SPD job, as well as what other opportunities are out there for me. The conversation moved in the direction of personal injury law, because I had said that there aren't really any big criminal law firms to my knowledge, mostly smaller firms, and I was asked about Habush Habush and Rottier, which I said dealt more with PI cases. My mom said that she read in a John Grisham novel that you don't want to be a tort lawyer, and I replied that is pretty much what personal injury lawyers work on - tort cases. Mom asked if that was like the term "ambulance chasers," and I said yeah, they would be personal injury lawyers.

Then, God's honest truth, my mom asked me, "So how the firms get those cases? Do they just send someone down to the hospital to look around?"

How Do I Get That Job?

Next to being His L-Ness, playing World of Warcraft, Online poker, and doing just about whatever he feels like at any given time, I'd have to say the second best job might have to be working at the Division of Juvenile Corrections. Their office is only staffed weekdays from 8:30-11:30 am (15 hours a week). I've called there before around 11:15 am and got no answer. Today I called at 10:20 am, and also got no answer. So, when your office is open only 15 hours a week and no one's there to answer the phones, what the hell are they actually doing? And how can I get in on that racket?

Damn It Feels Good To Be A Lawyer

This is a time of transition, of graduation, of moving on to bigger and better things. All my law friends are somewhere on this spectrum -- all have graduated, some have jobs, some do not, some are studying for the bar, some are not, some are practicing, and some are not yet. But we've all accomplished a great deal, and I think it's worth taking a moment to celebrate that achievement. We're lawyers now, or close enough. And having experienced a taste of what it's really like, I'd say it has been worth the effort.

So, to celebrate what comes next, I thought I would share a ceremonial song, a rite-of-passage, if you will. To the tune of "Damn it feels good to be a gangsta" by the Geto Boys - you all know how it goes:

Verse 1

Damn it feels good to be a lawyer
Cuz real lawyer-ass niggas never lose
A real lawyer-ass nigga always runs his fuckin mouth
Cuz real lawyer-ass niggas talk smooth
And real lawyers always rock the fly suits
Pimped out like a straight-up gangsta mack
Like a real lawyer I don’t gotta brag much
Though I’ve got a chair made out of money stacks
And everythings cool in the mind of a lawyer
Cuz lawyer-ass niggas think deep
Working 24/7 ‘til our loans paid
Then we’ll only work three days a week

And all I gotta say to you
Wannabe, gonnabe, law students livin’ that torture
When you finally get admitted it be worth the fuckin’ wait
Damn it feels good to be a lawyer

Verse 2

Damn it feels good to be a lawyer
Getting clients, charging up the massive bills
I used to spend my days in a classroom
But now I’m in the courtroom makin deals
Damn it feels good to be a lawyer
I mean one that everybody know
Ridin around town with my rimz not spinnin
Hittin corners in my Ford Escort
Now real-ass lawyers come in all shapes and colors
Workin’ business law, real estate, and crim
Litigators, public interest, I-to-tha-P
Livin’ lavish ‘cause our pockets never slim

Now all I gotta say to you
Wannabe, gonnabe, 1Ls who wish you’d never entered
Those three years of bullshit will pass by quick
And then damn it feels good to be a lawyer

Verse 3

Damn it feels good to be a lawyer
A real lawyer-ass nigga gets respect
You can call my secretary, set up an appointment
Cuz ain’t nobody that speaks to me direct
And we never have to worry bout the little things
Cuz a real lawyer makes his own rules
We just hire peeps to do our shit for us
And then we never have to tie our own shoes
And the laws of the world don’t apply to us
Because a real-ass lawyer’s above the law
Drive a hundred miles an hour, dead hookers on the roof
Then chase a cop away with a chain saw
And that’s just another day in the life of a lawyer
Cuz real lawyer-ass niggas got it made
And real lawyers never got to worry bout cash
Cuz real lawyer niggas always get paid

Now when you see me you had better get the name right
I’m the motherfuckin court room destroyer
And now I got the world swingin from my nuts
Damn it feels good to be a lawyer.

Date with Destiny

Upon venturing forth to Wendys yesterday, I encountered a sign bearing a portrait of the next great Sandwhich I must acquaint myself with 'ere too long: The Baconator. Now, this Baconator (or "Nator," as its oft referred) contains two beef patties, two slices of cheese, SIX slices of bacon, what appears to be mayonnaise, and a sesame seed bun.

But ho - you may say Vice, ye of the puny stomach and terrible chest pains, how can you expect to tame such a behemoth? 'Tis true, my powers of burger rangling have diminished greatly from my youth, when I regularly conquered Monster Burgers and Ultimate Bacon Double Cheeseburgers with ease. Now I oft recoil from such a feat, as even ruminating upon a burger of this stature can render my pitiful stomach into a quivering, useless wretch.

But to this I say "No more." I shan't cower from the Baconator; this is my solemn vow. And, when the day is passed, and the Baconator is no more, all who witnessed this feat shall say, "Behold, there goes a man in severe chest pain. Alas, he should have listened to reason, and gotten the 5 piece chicken nuggets and small fries."

By the Seat of My Ass

Here you go - Vice's tips to prepare for a successful court hearing:

1. Incorrectly assume that the date of the hearing is two days from now, rather than today

2. Put on some shorts and a t-shirt, wander up to the school to do a little preparation

3. Before you can start preparing, get a phone call from your supervising attorney asking if you're going to show up for the hearing, which starts pretty much right now

4. Grab the case files, sprint from the school to your car

5. Speed over to your apartment, and haphazardly throw on a suit and tie

6. Run over to the courthouse and head up to the floor, now dripping with sweat

7. WIN THE HEARING, in total badass fashion.

Newswhore

I could never lower myself to work in broadcast journalism. Know why? I couldn't ever be successful at it. People would come at me with stories, and I'd say no -- we're not covering that. That's not news. Of course, no one would watch my show, because I wouldn't cover the things that most people want to read.

Case in point - Paris Hilton gets out of jail today. I know this because CNN was on at the SERF while I was running yesterday. They advertised today as "Paris's Day of Freedom!!!" I'm not kidding - I saw the headline and thought there would be two exclamation points to convey just how exciting it was -- turns out I underestimated CNN. So Paris gets out of jail after serving her relatively innocuous sentence. Now she's free, and every single news source in the US will be clamouring outside of the jailhouse doors to cover this. They've already fought over who will have her first exclusive interview upon release, and that (dubious) honor goes to Larry King.

Judging by the news coverage, you'd think she was fuckin' Nelson Mandela, finally getting out of prison after the end of apartheid. But no -- she's just a dilitante of reality TV and amateur porn fame. (And, of course, Smashing Pumpkins single cover fame.)

I don't get it. I just don't get it. How is this news? How is this newsworthy? Say what you will about bad things happening to bad people, but I can't see why on earth I (or anyone else) should possibly care about this.

But we do. Clearly we do, otherwise the news wouldn't cover it, because it wouldn't be profitable. So the question is, whose fault is that?

Pop Quiz, Hotshot

What was the weirdest thing I saw yesterday?

(a) Old man doing what looked like jumping jacks on Regent St. yesterday, although he was barely moving his legs, and appeared to be doing them less for exercise purposes and more for "I don't remember my own name or where I am, dear God somebody help me" purposes

(b) The ambiguously gendered figure walking down the Square wearing purple pants, neon green socks, and a blue and white polka dot shirt

(c) The drunken girl that nearly stumbled to the floor on her way to the elevator of the courthouse, then incoherently slurred which floor she wanted to get off at and laughed like it was the funniest thing ever

Answer: Probably (a), although (c) was probably the stupidest. Seriously people, going drunk to court never ends well.

Look Out Below...

Your old pal Vice has a State Bar number, bitches!

I shall not reveal it here, for the dark power contained within those seven digits would blind even the most malevolent eyes. Soon will be the day the minstrels sing of this number, which will go down in infamy as "The number that would be Mr. Vice's State Bar number, bitches!"

Milestones

Tomorrow I get sworn in. Know what that means? It means that when people ask what I do, I can say "I'm an attorney" as opposed to "I'm a law student." That's pretty badass.

Although, the next question, "Where do you work?" is still giving me some problems.

The Glory of Stupidity

As far as satisfying moments go, there just isn't one quite like when you do something you know is stupid and it turns out beautifully. I'm talking about when you make a plan, realize that its a really terrible idea that could go wrong in hundreds of ways, then implement it nonetheless. It's kind of a "Wow...for some reason, this isn't going nearly as bad as I expected it to. I am awesome!" type of feeling.

Today I had one of those moments. I was cleaning out my old apartment, transporting the few things I have worth saving to a storage shed, when I came up against the futon. The decision had been made to keep the futon and put it in the office/guest bedroom of our new apartment. The problem for me was a) taking the frame apart, as I'm not exactly a handy man, or particulary handy, and b) transporting it to the storage shed with my 2001 Ford Escort. At my apartment I have one (1) screwdriver with several different attachments. I have zero (0) wrenches. Beyond that, I have a futon machete, if worse comes to worse. There are other tools at my disposal as well, as (oddly enough) my girl owns a pretty tricked out tool set. She's even got saws and shit. She doesn't really use them much, but still, it's kinda hot.

Anyway, I initially planned to take the futon apart, and hope the pieces (some approximately 6 feet long) would fit inside my little car. I don't know anyone within 90 miles of here who owns a pickup truck or van that could lend assistance, so that's out. So I look at the futon's frame, think about how I put it together in the first place, get frustrated and impatient because it didn't disassemble itself under the heat of my angry glare.

Then a thought occurred to me - maybe I could just drag the whole frame down, still assembled, and stick it to the roof of my car. Monumentally stupid idea. What happens when it slips out of my makeshift ropes and falls off mid-transport, then either a) gets run over by another car and smashed up, or b) gets run over by another car, gets smashed up, and causes an accident that is entirely my fault. Sounds like a winner to me. I found a few pieces of rope and extension cords, and hauled the bitch downstairs. I was able to lift it up and set it on the roof without a problem. I tied it down through the windows, then rolled up the windows to make sure the ropes and cords held tight.

And with that, I set out to the storage shed. Mid way through, it hadn't fallen off yet, and I started to get the feeling that maybe it would actually work. I ultimately arrived at the storage shed without incident and plopped the sucker in the shed, still assembled. Now, maybe I'll still have to disassemble it when we move, but maybe not. Maybe I saved myself a bunch of work through a pretty dumb idea.

I feel pretty good about that.

Assholes Don't Die, They Just Become Old Assholes

For those of you currently entertaining thoughts of "Now that law school is over, I won't ever have to see (insert random douchebag here) again for the rest of my life," here is a sad wakeup call. You may not have to see that particular douchebag, but rest assured, you will have to see plenty of others. Law school may have been the sun of our d-bag solar system, but venture out into space a bit, I guarantee you run up against, at the very least, satellite douchebags, and at worst, a whole douchebag meteor shower.

Take today for instance. Public Defender's Office has a training seminar. Our speaker has gone on five minutes past her allotted time, and the next period was supposed to be our break, which was supposed to give us fifteen minutes respite from all the mind-numbing "learning." When she stops, and most of us are just about to bolt for the door, Old Asshole raises his hand to ask a question. Speaker lady provides a thorough, 5 minute time suck of an answer. Anyone else? Old Asshole raises his hand, asking another pointless question. And these questions weren't even directed toward anything she had said - just anecdotes about the different failures in his career, and how one might go about avoiding those problems. I don't know what kind of answer that one got, because I stood up and left the room.

Just goes to show you, assholes never really leave for good, they just linger and became crotchety old assholes. Until you escape this profession, you will never escape the d-bag solar system.


*And for those of you who inserted your old pal Vice into the "random douchebag here" blank, you're right -- you won't see me. Not even when I creep out of the shadows, sneak up behind you, and decapitate you with a whale machete. Take comfort in that.

Forfeit

If a criminal defendant fails to appear at court, the judge issues a warrant for his or her arrest.

On the other hand, if the district attorney fails to appear at court, we fucking sit there and wait, and wait, and wait, and wait, until some other DA who just got handed the file strolls in (45 min late) and says she won't concede the motion, even though the expungement statute is supposed to be self-executing, because blah blah frickety blah blah. So then we have to talk to the judge, who says we need to order a transcript, and now we're setting the stupid motion off another month or so.....

I say fuck that in its lopsided ass. This is street ball rules. You don't show up, you forfeit.

One Down, Infinity To Go

KH and I celebrated one year together this week - the actual date was Thursday, May 31, but due to a bit of memory lapse on my part, we did the celebrating Friday night. I more than made up for it though, I'd say. I got my princess all princessed up, and we went out on the town.

Note the tiara, the pretty pink dress, and the necklace.

I also rented a white tux, and we had an amazing dinner at L'Etoile. The only disappointing thing about the whole evening was the lack of ludicrous french accents by our servers.

And for my present, KH commemorated the past year by giving me a scrapbook with every picture of us ever taken, and little messages that recapped all of our favorite moments. By far the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me.

So here's to one incredible year with my princess, and many, many more.

I Want To Go Camping, God Damn It

I've been wanting to go camping again at Devil's Lake for awhile now. Hiking those hella steep trails is one of my favorite things to do. The last time KH and I went camping, we had an awesome time on Saturday, swimming, hiking, and cake eating. However, that night we got rained out, and it continued raining all night and the next morning, forcing us to pack the tent up in the pouring rain and come home way too early on Sunday.

This time we wanted the full camping experience. We planned on going Wednesday and Thursday, as she is starting work full time on Monday. But the weather looked like ass - scattered thunderstorms all day Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. Fearing another wash out like last time, we pushed camping off until the weekend, hoping at least that Saturday would be decent, and Sunday would be nice. Naturally, Wednesday and Thursday were pretty much fine. There was some rain, and plenty of cloud cover, but mostly it was nice out.

Fine - screw you, Mother Nature. Let's see what the weekend brings. So we got up yesterday morning, checked the radar, and found a massive stormfront covering pretty much all of everywhere, and the forecast now put thunderstorms on Sunday too. Not wanting to hike the treacherous bluffs in the rain, we said fuck it, and decided to try next weekend instead. It rained briefly yesterday, and then it was perfectly fine out. And today seems absolutely beautiful.

At this point, I assume the forecast will put next weekend at sunny and mild, until it gets here, and we drive to Devil's Lake, only to get hit by an effin' typhoon.

Hunting

Apparently Vice isn't the only one who's been apartment hunting lately. Last week Thursday KH and I purused another pretty nice place, and checked out the various layouts of their rooms. After looking at one particularly nice apartment, she noticed someone else scoping out the same apartment from the balcony - a giant falcon.

That's right - among the many amenities of this place, giant falcons come standard. He was just sitting on the railing, staring in at us like "I dare you to come out here, motherfucker. I double-dare you." Don't get me wrong, normally I wouldn't hesitate to roundhouse some greedy-ass animal standing on my potential balcony looking at my potential apartment, especially since normally that animal would be a racoon.

But this was no coon. This was probably two feet tall, with talons longer than my fingers. It sat there with no fear whatsoever and stared us down. It may as well have had a sign hung around its neck advising "Not to be fucked with."

So, by the looks of it, I'm gonna have to take up falconry if I want to live there. That, or get my eyes pecked out.

Test of Time

This week I rewatched the movie that really spurred my interest in law - A Few Good Men. It came out in 1992, when I was ten years old, and at the time I thought it was the coolest thing ever. So many big stars, so much awesomeness. But I wondered, after fifteen years have passed, including three years of studying political science and another three years of learning and practicing the actual law, would this movie hold up? Or would it be exposed as just another naive, contrived attempt at legal and political drama?

After rewatching it, I'm glad to say this movie still kicks ass. For someone who loves political theory and the ethical considerations that go into public service and the use of power, this movie has it all. It made me want to do criminal defense, because everyone deserves the protections and procedural safeguards of the law, even the guilty. It made me want to expose corruption, to give those who believe themselves above the law their comeuppance, and to serve my country and protect its ideals. The same values I saw back in the day were present now, and even moreso because I understood it more. This movie teaches that everyone's rights must be observed, even the weak among us. No, scratch that, especially the weak. It states that protecting democracy means protecting everyone in the democracy. Most importantly, it states that when the leaders of this country start making decisions that trample on the rights of the few under color of protecting the many, those decisions ought to be subject to review, and those leaders subject to removal where appropriate. No one is above the law, neither those that enforce it nor those that write it.

If I had read the credits closely beforehand, I should have known that this movie would stand the test of time, without even needing to see it again. Why? It was originally written as a play by Aaron Sorkin, and he wrote the screenplay based on his play. Sorkin, of course, brought us the brilliant political drama The West Wing, one of my personal favorites. To me, that show defined what public service was all about. No wonder, then, that A Few Good Men provides a similarly shining example, even fifteen years after its creation.

How to Stop an Exploding Man in the Stupidest Way Possible

With all apologies to Mr. Ismael, I am not intending this to be a full review of last night's Heroes episode. I was just so thoroughly disappointed by the finale last night that I had to say something. There were so many things wrong with it, most notably:

(CAUTION: SPOILERS)

1. Defusing Peter. I'll admit, the actual moment where Nathan flew down and decided to fly Peter into the atmosphere to detonate was pretty powerful. The fact that he and Peter were both willing to sacrifice themselves (though one or both is probably not dead) for their city was amazing. But when you stop to think about it, there were so many other ways to deal with the problem where they wouldn't have had to resort to that. First, Peter could have flown himself into the atmosphere, rather than Nathan needing to do it for him. Maybe Peter couldn't do this because all his efforts were geared toward controlling the radioactivity. Fine, then use the Claire (or anyone else) shooting Peter before he could explode plan. Where was the big flaw in that? Claire shoots him. Peter dies, and does not explode. Peter regenerates using the invulnerability power he got from Claire. Or, if he couldn't do that on his own, Claire helps him rengenerate like she did previously. There was no reason to go the route they did, other than the "let's be noble/macho and sacrifice ourselves for no fucking reason" principle. Bravo, writers.

2. Peter v. Sylar II. Right up until it "happened," this battle was set up to be awesome. They filmed it like it would be an epic showdown. And we had every reason to believe it would be, after the sheer awesomeness of the first match at the apartment. Two badasses with an extensive collection of powers, including telekinesis, which pretty much allows them to do whatever the fuck they want. Sylar levitated Peter - okay. Sylar flung a parking meter at Peter. Okay, we're building to something. Then Jessica/Niki intervenes. Then she leaves. Suddenly, the battle becomes a fist fight. What the hell? Does Peter have super punching powers previously unknown to the viewer? Um, no. So why punch him? TELEKINESIS, dude! My best guess at what the hell went wrong was that Jessica/Niki infected this battle with her presence, just like she infected every episode and scene in the majority of the season. Either she ruined this, or the writers just gave up. No excuse for that fight.

3. Sylar v. Hiro. In the midst of the Sylar/Peter showdown, Hiro shows up, five feet away. "You," Sylar cleverly announces. Then Hiro runs up and stabs him. I feel like turning the tv off. He runs up and stabs Sylar? Sylar, the guy who can stop bullets and fling them back at Parkman? Sylar, the guy who can stop an armored car and flip it over by waving a finger? He clearly had enough time to see Hiro coming, because he stopped and uttered that amazing witticism. The man stops bullets and, well, EVERYTHING, but he can't stop the pudgy kid with the sword. And Hiro runs and stabs Sylar? The guy can teleport! If he had teleported a foot away and stabbed him immediately, I would have bought it. They could have done it awesome in slow motion. But no. Like Peter punching Sylar in the face, Hiro runs up and stabs him. I just don't understand it.

4. Hiro's ability. I've complained about this before - time travel presents an endless problem of why you don't just travel a few seconds earlier, or however earlier you need to fix things, and fix things when it's much easier. The teleporting too - when at Isaac's apartment, he teleports past Sylar, grabs Ando, teleports away, all before Sylar can do anything. Why, in the name of all that is holy, wouldn't he stab Sylar right then and there? Sylar couldn't have moved in time to stop it. I don't see any logical reason, other than moving this moment to the climax where it would be more dramatic, for Hiro not to end it right there.

Not to be a hater, but I've got a lot of problems with this show right now. I've held off up to this point because I thought the finale would address most of them, or at least be so awesome in what it does address that any other problem seems minor. Then, when the finale blows some serious goats, these problems seem more glaring. So here we go:

We never follow one character's progression long enough to really care. I mean, all the characters are generally likeable, but you only see them in short segments each time. Sometimes that's a good thing, as following one character for too long can detract from the overall story, especially in an ensemble show. But at some point we need episodes that focus on the development of a particular character. The only time this has happened so far was with Mr. Bennett in "Company Man," and that was a fantastic episode. Otherwise, we only get little moments. So then when people get killed off, I find myself less interested. By contrast, in a show like Lost, which takes great lengths to develop each character by focusing on a different one each episode, I really feel like I know the characters, and have some stake in their existence, even if I despise most of them. Here, I don't have that.

The character progression we do see is scattered at best. At first, I thought the writers were going for a long, slow journey type of progression, which was why we only needed to see little bits in each episode. That's why I didn't complain. Different from what I usually watch, but fine. But then, all of the sudden characters who were progressing at a snail's pace suddenly pull 180s and have supposedly reached their big moments in the span of one episode.

For example, Hiro. He started out so normal, kinda pudgy and mild-mannered. We caught a glimpse of his future as a hardened samurai, which was awesome. All season he remains the pudgy nice guy, though on a mission. Then, in one epsiode, he becomes a swordsman, apparently without the assistance of his time-manipulation powers. Um... okay. Sure, he's not the future Hiro badass we saw, but still, where's the progression there? He never had a single sword fight all season. Now, with a little practice, he's proficient.

Then you've got Nathan. The writers were clearly developing him as the ambitious leader with a good heart. He started out making selfish decisions, being an asshole in general. Over time, you got to see his caring side. But then Linderman tells him the plan to kill millions, and that Nathan will have to be complicit. Nathan's like "That's awful. Where do I sign on?" He seems conflicted, then he seems to buy into it. Right up until his final scene, we've seen nothing to indicate he's changed his mind. Then, all the sudden, he swoops in, ready to sacrifice himself and prevent a massacre. I don't buy the "he didn't want to let Claire get killed" idea, because Claire is invunlerable. I also don't buy the "he didn't want to let Peter get killed" idea, because in Nathan's solution, either Peter would get killed anyway, or Peter would be able to regenerate himself anyway.

And another thing - where is the romance in this show? Not one of the characters have a romantic interest anymore, it seems. If nothing else, this would provide some real dramatic tension. Even comic books and action movies, where the main focus is on the plot, there is usually always some sort of romance to add a layer to the story. Not so here.

Again, I still like this show, and it has incredible potential. Maybe that's why it's so frustrating right now - I know what it could be, and it could be absolutely amazing. Right now, it's not.

As a result, it's not in the same league as Lost or Battlestar Galactica in terms of quality right now, in my opinion.

The End is Nigh

So graduation happened, and Vice saw that it was good. Highlights include:

1. Getting hooded by Weston. Really brought things full circle, if you know what I mean. (If you don't, I meant something inappropriately sexual.)

2. The first student speaker. (Are we allowed to use names? I don't know the ettiquette here. Anyway, you know who you are.) His speech was straight-up awesome. Especially his shout-out to the pirate community. Which reminds me, Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End starts this Friday. Should be pretty bad-ass.

3. Cliff Thompson's speech. Oh. My. God. Cliff, you are amazing. That was the most random thing I have ever heard. I mean, I've heard countless lectures from three of your classes, but this eclipsed them all in terms of sheer awesomeness. Some playas rise to the occasion in the playoffs, and you, sir, have a larger dagger collection than any of them. Bravo.

4. The afterparty at the brink, where Mr. Ismael got a little creative with the camera. Absolutely hilarious.

5. Not having a full-time job yet. Oh, wait, never mind. That sucks.

Congratulations to all of you who have graduated.

I AM THE LAW

With all due respect to Judge Dredd, I am the law, by the looks of it. I've mentioned a case I'm working on involving challenges to the constitutionality of some state statutes before; first we made a challenge to Wisconsin's defamation statute for being overbroad, both facially and as-applied, by infringing on our client's First Amendment rights. I wrote a brief and an addendum setting forth our arguments, and submitted it to the DA and the Attorney General's office. The AAG stepped in to review the issue, and decided that we were right, at least on the as-applied challenge, and he recommended that the DA dismiss that charge. He did, and it was awesome.

Then, against all common sense, we tried to use the exact same attack on the identity theft statute. Again, the task of writing a brief fell to me, and I did my best. As mentioned previously, I felt the whole thing was ridiculous, and that we had no shot in hell. My argument did have a logical progression to it, but ultimately made a huge leap to suggest that the same issues from defamation law would apply here, and that somehow the conduct regulated in this statute implicated our client's rights to free speech. After submitting that brief, I felt a little amazed at the prospect a judge could actually agree with our argument, and that that would actually be the state of the law.

Then the AAG submitted a reply brief, which it seemed to me burst our collective bubble by essentially pointing out that the statute has nothing whatsoever to do with speech. There is no case law even remotely approaching the issue we argued (which, to me, seems perfectly appropriate), so the AAG cited one case that drew an analogy where the court basically looked at a statute and said it regulates conduct, and the speech involved is incidental. I figured the exact same thing would happen to us. I did find one important way to distinguish these cases, but I didn't think it mattered.

Well sportsfans, yesterday hell froze straight the fuck over. We had the hearing on our motion to dismiss, and I got to tag along. My employer let me sit at the table and even introduced me on the record as his "able associate and law clerk," which was cool. Even though I got to sit at the big boys' table all summer with the DA's office and got some first-chair experience, I never sat in on any issue that was this big. The DA was there, and the AAG even made a personal appearance to argue.

My employer went first, giving a pretty thorough and persuasive rundown of our argument. The judge asked him a question or two, then let the AAG speak. But first he asked the AAG some questions, and this was where shit started to get real for real. First he asked about the standard of review, which was that, since this was a First Amendment issue (supposedly), the State had the burden to prove it constitutional beyond a reasonable doubt. The AAG basically agreed with that - score one for us.

The next questions the judge asked were about specific points of our argument, and whether the AAG agreed with them. Those points just happened to follow the logic of my brief - the key points that I thought were correct leading up to the conclusion. The AAG agreed with each point, which, to be honest, he probably should have. I started to get a tingle - what was going on here? Was the judge actually buying it?

Then he asked another question, basically whether the element of the statute we were challenging was the same thing as defamation. I never thought to suggest that; I thought they were clearly distinguishable. The AAG, however, conceded that they were basically the same. What what? I mean, I suppose, but you could at least make the argument that they weren't. No offense to the AAG, because he was clearly very intelligent and was much more interested in the legal question than winning, but I was expecting a more fiery attack on his part. Something along the lines of "this is fucking ridiculous," which would probably have been my fallback argument in his position.

It was about this point where I started thinking "oh my god oh my god oh my god." I was smiling uncontrollably; I kept having to look down, bite my lip, clench my teeth, anything to stop from smiling. This was all pretty unbelievable. I thought we'd get laughed out of court. Now it was all I could do to keep from laughing - we were WINNING.

The AAG made his argument, and it was pretty strong. Then the judge went into his decision. First he went through all of his reasoning, and he basically tracked my brief and my employer's argument point for point. He acknowledged that, although the statute was clearly geared toward regulating conduct, not speech, it still had an element that the state had to prove that involved protected speech. And since the State had the burden beyond a reasonable doubt - -

At this point, my employer and I were both losing it. The judge was going to rule for us, and we knew it. This little motion that could was about to conquer the fucking mountain. And then it happened - the judge dismissed the charge. He assumed it would get appealed, and he was interested to find out how it would turn out, because it was a very close call. The judge and the AAG both found this to be a fascinating question of law. I was just dumbstruck.

After it was over, my employer and I talked briefly with the DA and the AAG. They are going to appeal, of course, which they really should. It was pretty cool - the AAG asked if I wrote the briefs, and said that the defamation brief in particular was really, really good. He said if I was his intern, he would hire me immediately.

For those of you keeping score, the scoreboard looks like this:

Me 2, Attorney General 0.

It was absolutely incredible. Sitting up at that table, after I realized what was going to happen - it was like a 15 minute mental orgasm. The best part was how hopeless it had seemed, and how suddenly we were victorious. I think that feeling was even better than winning the jury trial, just because the odds were so stacked against us. We're still going to have our hands full on appeal, and probably won't win it. But for one brief, shining moment...

Lean Like a Cholo

It's your old pal Vice, emissary of the ghetto, back to break you off another piece of street knowledge. You may recall last summer when I had to hip you all to what it meant to ride dirty; now I have been asked once again to bring my unique brand of interpretative skizzles. The topic of today's discussion is the song "Lean Like a Cholo" by the artist Down, aka 'Kilo.' Specifically, the primary questions to be addressed are:

(1) What is a "cholo"?

(2) How does one "lean" like a cholo?

Generally, the term "cholo" is a noun, used to refer to any person of mixed American and Spanish ethnicity. Colloquially, however, cholo refers to a Mexican gangsta, as in the sentence "I'm cruisin' through the east side with a couple of cholos." It can also be used as an adjective to refer to the Mexican gangsta style, as in the sentence "My homeboy got shot up for dressing like a cholo." More broadly, the term "cholo" implies a Hispanic male that typically dresses in chinos (khahki pants), a wifebeater sleeveless teeshirt or a flannel shirt with only the top buttoned, a hairnet, or with a bandana around the forehead, usually halfway down over the eyes.

Additionally, cholos can often be spotted driving low riders, although they are not often visible to the naked eye, as they lean back while driving and often can't be seen over the steering wheel. I myself am often mistaken for a cholo for this reason, and while I do tend to lean back while driving, I am generally not tall enough to see over my steering wheel to begin with.

Now that we know what a cholo is, how does one lean like one? Does "lean" simply mean to tilt one's body at an angle, or is there another meaning entirely? There are various meanings of "lean," most of them referring to a particular alcoholic drink, or as slang terms for getting blunted. Neither of these is applicable here, as the context clues indicate "lean" is used as a verb indicating a particular dance move. Peep the lyrics to the hook:

"Side to side
elbows up side to side
elbows up side to side
elbows up side to side
like a cholo"

Thus it appears if one wants to lean like a cholo, one need only put one's elbows up and tilt one's body from side to side. This should be done slowly, so as not to strike any other cholos standing nearby, also with their elbows up and in the process of leaning. As a precautionary measure, this movement should be practiced in front of a mirror before actual execution in public. Once in public, the safest and most effective way is to coordinate with other cholos, so that all leaning occurs in the same direction at the same time. Thus any embarassing accidents and resulting gang violence can be avoided.

Of course, to truly lean like a cholo, one may in fact need to be a cholo, lest one gets one's ass capped.

And the Horse You Rode In On

Here's a big fat middle finger the Board of Bar Examiners. I got a letter back today saying the Board has decided I have the requisite character and fitness to practice law in Wisconsin. Great. So at least that process is over, assuming the Dean says I passed my classes. Now all I have to do is bring a photo ID to the swearing-in ceremony, as well as...

A fat check for $100.

Um, extortion much? What the hell happened to the money I already paid them? I checked -- apparently the first $210 (or $310, for those of us who missed the initial deadline) was a "filing fee," while this next $100 is the "admission fee." Awesome. Not like I have any choice in the matter, is it?

Here's looking forward to the inevitable "swearing in fee" of $55 and the "congratulations, you've been a member of the bar for 3 months fee" of $375, and the "No really, pay us or you'll never work in this state again fee" of $750,000...

Old Enemies

While driving down Bassett St. last night, I encountered an old enemy of Mr. Utah, and thus an old enemy of us all. As I negotiated the curve onto Wilson St., I found myself face to face with a GIANT RACCOON, last seen fleeing in terror from Mr. Utah's previously coon-infested apartment building at the corner of Bassett and West Wash. Many of you may recall Mr. Utah's confrontations with the raccoon and its kin over the fall of 2004 and spring of 2005, until he ultimately bested it in a climactic final battle held at the Thunderdome. Afterwards, the raccoon fled the apartment and took its babies underground, and had not been spotted since.

However, the re-emergence of the Alpha Coon last night spells trouble. After all, raccoons are some of the most destructive, assholish creatures ever created. (The link is to Utah's archive; scroll down to find his authoritative PBS review on Raccoons.) They are like the evil version of John McClane -- seriously hard to kill. Unless they get rabies/syphillis, which infects their brains and causes them to enter your yard and wander around aimlessly for several hours until they fall over and die, leaving you to dispose of their gigantic, worthless carcasses. Much like a common homelii.

The scourge of the animal kingdom is back, so hide your women, children, and beloved pets. Unless you want this to happen to them:

Don't let this happen to America.

What the F*ck? (Updated)

Alright Gollum, its way past time to get your shit together. Now, I know you're probably out questing for your precious, the One Ring, and are therefore too busy to return our goddamned sentencing papers. But until Wisconsin decides to legalize such partnerships, and until Dickey decides to swing that way (toward evil, gangly, bulbous-headed creatures, that is), there's really no point. So give us back our papers, for the love of Christ. I have every intention of writing my next paper in the exact same manner as the first, and I'd like to find out if I did a decent job before cranking out another 15 pages of the same crap. I need my flippin' paper back.

Seriously, you told us we'd get them back a couple weeks after we returned from break. I made sure to attend that class, but lo and behold, nothing. Next week, you say. Next week you'll return our paperses. Fine. Against my better judgment, I attend class. No paperses! "Next week. You can trust poor Smeagol, we promises!" Fine. Final week of class, held at the Terrace. No reason for me to go whatsoever, since I haven't read anything in like 6 weeks, and its not like I'm going to make any effort to participate. Only reason I would even consider going to this, when I know you'll still want to discuss the reading, is to get my blasted paper back.

So I attend. I sit with the group at the table, waiting for your arrival. Then, across the horizon, we spot your giant head, drifting up over the crowd like a hot air balloon. Alas, your hands are empty, except for a copy of the week's reading. You schmuck! I sit through another effin' worthless class, the last of my law school career. What a disappointment this class was. "No paperses? Oh, dear me! We puts them in your hangfileses tomorrow, we promises!"

Checked the hangfile the next day. To my "astonishment," nothing there. A few days later the class listserve gets an email. Seems a student informed you that, yet again, you forgot our flippin' papers. You'll put them in the hangfile ASAP.

Well, aparently in the caves of Middle Earth "ASAP" means in "Approximately Seventy Ages, Possibly." I checked my hangfile again today, and again got a donut for my troubles. (To be clear, there was no actual donut in my hangfile, or I'd be too busy eating it right now to be riled up about this.) So any attempt at writing my paper today would be in the dark.

Be a good Smeagol, and get off your lazy ass.

UPDATE: Apparently Gollum hasn't handed our papers back because, get this, he LOST half of them. ??? Now he's got to go creep across Middle Earth to see where the hell he left them.

UPDATE: He has found the papers! We will not get them back until we turn in our next papers. Big surprise.

1L Year, Fall Semester

Highlights:

- Group 7 (aka Group 14). A good group of people - young, fun, and hard-drinking. They treated me to my first drinking parties where I actually drank, and first games of quarters and beer pong. Good times.

- Cliff Thompson - Professor of Contracts, small group leader, and professional badass. This marked the first time a professor of mine had brought a dagger to class. Later, in Property, Cliff would also mark the 2nd time a professor brought a dagger to class. Occasionally he'd bust out a gem like "Not that I haven't driven drunk plenty of times before," or some ridiculously random story about Indonesia or the Sudan, which added hella flavor to the class. And he gave me my 2nd highest grade throughout law school.

- Dean's Cup - I participated in like 80 hundred events, second only to Eugene, who participated in anywhere between 10 and 400 million events. Shit, Trivial Pursuit, poker, soccer, ultimate frisbee, midget tossing, jump roping, hula hooping, horseshoes, I was all over the place. Which is probably why we lost hardcore.

- Poker - After about a month of making new friends, I stumbled upon a highly secretive and advanced society of sarcastic jackasses like myself who shared my affinity for make believe and love of all things badass. Also, the only reason I could stomach law school 1L year was going to poker to bitch about it.

Lowlights:

- Weston. From the day I spied her weathered, sagging cleavage from high atop auditorium seating, I would be scarred for life. And my innocent commentary about said cleavage led to a running joke about my allegedly torrid love affair with said hideous old hag. Possibly the most joyous moment of first semester was the day I committed to skipping class (gasp!) to go play golf on a gorgeous afternoon. That was, for me, before skipping class became the go-to choice. And my lungs thank me for it.

- The law. Turns out, I didn't care. Weird. Prior to law school I was a total gunner - I read everything, I was engaged with the material, and I actually enjoyed it. Then, not so much. All the things that fellow students were getting excited about - jobs, extracurricular groups, learning -- I so completely didn't care. That was disappointing.

- Not having a car. I had never been stuck asking people for rides before, and I really didn't enjoy it. This led to a) awful excursions on the bus, often to the wrong places, or b) riding my bike in inclement weather. Ugh.

- Kascieta. You motherfucker. If anyone killed my ambition, my will to succeed, my will to at least make an effort, it was you. Fuck you, Bob Kascieta.

As always, feel free to point out anything I missed.

Next up: 1L Year, Spring Semester

In Retrospect

Law School draws to a close, and life heads down a new path. The thought hasn't caught up with me yet - every once in awhile I realize something like "that's my last class ever," or "that's the last time I'll ever have to see (insert random law douche here)." Law has not only occupied the last three years of my life, it has changed it in exciting and totally unexpected ways. So for my next series of posts, I'd like to recount some of the ups and downs, the favorite memories, the not so favorite memories, and everything in between.

Today I start with the biggest changes for me, personally. In no particular order, they are as follows:

1. I don't actually like the law, or at least the study of it. I'd been planning on going to law school since I was ten years old. My path had been set for so long; when I graduated high school there was no question what I'd do, and when I graduated undergrad it was the same. Just the next step up my staircase toward world domination. I didn't have any choices to make, which was freeing. I just did what came next. Then when I got here and realized I didn't actually care for the law, suddenly my whole life was thrown out of whack. Where was I headed? What was I going to do? I couldn't take a job in something I hate just because that's what I'm supposed to be doing. So I detached myself almost entirely from the school for the first 3 semesters. Then, thankfully, I discovered my affinity for criminal law - the practice of it, anyway. Suddenly I had purpose again, and now I know what I want to do. I don't have the same ambition I used to - - now I really think I could settle for a DA position and be happy with my life without going into politics. Before that would have seemed a failure, but now it seems a good fit.

2. I've branched out as a person. Before law school, I had kinda been in a holding pattern - I had lived in the same community for 21 years, and had all the same friends pretty much from Middle School until I graduated undergrad. Now, don't get me wrong, I really liked my friends, and I liked hanging out with them. But I didn't really share the same interests as them. The further along I got, the less comfortable I felt where I was. Then I came here and met people with similar interests, primarly the poker group and, later, KH. Here, people actually want to do the things that I like to do. From poker to superhero movies to making fun of douchebags to writing comedy sketches to exercising to golfing horribly to TV on DVD to fighting grizzly bears and beyond. It's nice to feel completely in place for once.

3. Relationshipping. I arrived at law school single and happy; I'm leaving law school involved and blissful. I only dated one girl prior to coming here, and although we stayed together a long time, we were pretty much complete opposites and never should have been together. Now I've found someone who is, for all intents and purposes, perfect for me, and who I can't imagine ever being without. And if not for law school and a certain Superfriend that pretty much forced us together, it never would have happened. And for that, I will be forever greatful.

I haven't quite decided my next topic, but it will be forthcoming.

Never Too Late

Week 14 of Trusts and Estates class, and I just learned what deferred marital property is. Right now I'm staring down the impending exam like Joe in Family Guy after the apocalypse, with my lower half buried under the driveway, staring down the Mega Rat screaming "Bring it onnnnn!"

Convenience

Speed dial is pretty much awesome. I've got about 60 different people I can call at any given moment just by hitting a number and the pound key. You meet a person once, store their number, and never have to worry about the digits again. Back in the days before I had a cell phone (and in the days when I had a terribly cheap cell phone) I didn't have that feature, so I knew the phone numbers of anyone I wanted to call. Of course, at that time everyone I would call lived in my area code, and most everyone had the same first three digits, so I only really had to remember about 4 digits per person. Now everyone comes from all over the place, which means ten digits a piece. I don't want to waste a significant portion of my brain remembering everyone's exact phone numbers, so speed dial is ridiculously convenient.

Unless I get put in jail, as I've learned today.

I'd always wondered what would happen if I lost my phone, because I don't actually know anyone's phone numbers any more. The thought progression would be something like "Yeah, that would suck balls." And then I'd laugh and completely forget how screwed I'd be if it happened for real.

So today I was doing intake at the jail and met this guy who had been put in detox and was now sobering up. He wanted to call his parents to come bail him out. He wanted to call his sister to bail him out. He wanted to call his girlfriend so she knew where he was. And he wanted to call his work so they knew where he was, and so that he wouldn't lose his job. This would all have been well and good once he got a phone call, because he could call one person and have them make the other calls.

Except they took his cell phone away, and he didn't know any of these numbers.

So here the guy is, rotting in a jail cell, and no one has a clue where he is. And he can't contact them until he fills out a request form to get his phone back, because every bit of helpful information he could want is in that phone right now.

Moral of the story: Don't get thrown in jail. I'm not too worried myself, of course, because a) I'm generally a law-abiding person, and b) when I fail to abide by the law, I don't leave witnesses or survivors. Still, there are dangers. For future reference, if you're ever trying to contact me and it seems like I have vanished from the face of the earth, it's safe to assume I have surrounded by a bunch of tall people who took my phone and decided to play keep away.

Tribute to Villainy

As I've said many times before, I love an epic story of good and evil. Central to any great good and evil story is a good villain; since the villain's evil scheme generally drives the story, the better the villain/scheme, the better the story. I've commented on my love of good villains here, but today I want to go beyond that and pay tribute to some of my favorite villains.

Now, I'm not saying this list constitutes the greatest villains of all time - far from it. If that's what you want, check out AFI's top 100 heroes and villains list. This isn't even a comprehensive list of my favorites, since I'm sure I've forgotten some. But as far as I'm concerned, these baddies made for good story, and deserve the recognition.

So, in no particular order, I present my Tribute to Villainy:

1. Darth Vader

Anyone looking for the epitome of a villain need look no further than Vader. 1/2 man, 1/2 machine, all badass. Ruthless, menacing, calculating, the Fightin' Vader simply oozed darkness and destruction every time he was on screen. Come on, the guy managed to make audible wheezing frightening. Plus, James Earl lent his formidable voice talents. Classic.

2. Hans Gruber

Alan Rickman's Gruber, the brilliant sleazebag Eurotrash terrorist, providing the perfect counterpart to Bruce Willis' badass American cowboy cop in "Die Hard." Ultimately, he took an unfortunate fall from a bazillion story window, but for a brief shining moment, Hans had shit on lockdown.

3. Dr. Evil

Think about it, the guy's got "evil" in his name. What more proof do you need? Evil laugh? Check. Evil underground hideout? Check. Evil kitty? Check. Evil air quotation marks on needlessly quoted words? Check. Sure, he wanted to take over the world, but really, all he wanted was some frickin' sharks with frickin' laser beams attached to their frickin' heads. Is that so much to ask?

4. Keyser Soze

Though we never really see the infamous Keyser on screen in "The Usual Suspects," his influence pervades and drives the movie. His name inspires terror in the criminal underworld and law enforcement alike. And his brilliance only becomes clear at the end of the movie. He leaves you with the classic line: "The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was making convincing the world that he didn't exist."

5. Jaws

Da-duh. Da-duh. Da-duh. CHOMP! Jaws made swimming in the ocean and getting mauled by a shark cool again. Also, little known fact, Jaws was the first choice to host the talk show later hosted by Rosie O'Donnell. Each interview would have ended in Jaws baring his monstrous teeth and eating the guest. In a way, not that much different, I suppose. Still, badass, for a fish.

6. Voldemort

I've already given mad props to Lord Voldemort here. When you've got a whole society of people afraid to speak your name, that's villainy on a whole different level. "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" ought to be a hell of a conclusion to the series, and Voldy should be front and center.

7. (Agent) Smith

When computer programs go bad, they go really, really bad. Not content to rot in humanity's prison or to face deletion, Smith went apeshit rogue in the sequels and pretty much took over absolutely everything. Unflappable, unstoppable, and pretty much unfuckwithable. Hugo Weaving pretty much chewed the scenery like a mofo as Smith got megalomaniacal, and it was awesome.

8. Catwoman

Let's forget, for the moment, Halle Berry's "Catwoman" from 2004, which was one of the worst movies ever made. No no, give me Michelle Pfeiffer, a skin-tight black leather cat suit, and a whip. Me-fucking-ow! Certainly not among the ranks of supervillain, but definitely a serious baddie. Not only did she whip the Dark Knight's ass on a regular basis, she also had his alter-ego by the short hairs. Talk about cracking the whip!

9. Heffalump

If ever a more ferocious beast graced stage, screen or page, let it speak now or shut its face. You like honey? So does the Heffalump, and it will not think twice about stealing your honey pot, spitting on your face, and humping your sister, Heffalump-style. And she better hope he's not accompanied by a Woozle...

10. The Ring/Sauron

Okay, so the Dark Lord was pretty much reduced to a flaming dismembered eyeball by the time the War of the Ring began, but he pulled some serious weight in Middle Earth for awhile. And how about the One Ring itself? Able to drive people power-crazy just by looking upon it? The Ring's got serious evil game, let's not kid ourselves.


Anyone I've left off?

So Wrong, and Yet...

Check out Supersoaker's latest invention: The Oozinator!

The link takes you to a You Tube video, which is the actual commercial used, plus a remix to the tune of Lil Jon's "Get Low," appropriately enough. This is not a joke - this is a real product they have been marketing.

Now, I don't know why Supersoaker decided to make a gun that squirts ooze, or why they decided the ooze should be white, or why they made the tag line "Major pumping required." But it's so wrong, no matter how you look at it.

And on the Hasboro website, where you can purchase the Oozinator for a mere $24.99, they advise: "With the OOZINATOR blaster you don’t just get soaked, you get drenched!"

Aw skeet skeet!