So this summer I've been assigned to assist a guy with criminal traffic cases. The guy's name is Eric Sparr; he graduated from UW law school a couple years back, and was an intern like me a couple years earlier. Absolutely great guy. He's good at his job, and he knows how to have fun with it. That's a major reason why my experience here has been so good - the job is just plain fun, especially working with him.
Here's a prime example. Today he showed me a letter he received from a defense attorney regarding a tape recording for events that took place in an intoxilyzer room. The defense attorney, who Eric knew to be a pretty good guy, sent a letter indicating that the sound on the tape had been dubbed at an extremely high speed, so that all the people involved sounded like chipmunks. The attorney stated that he did not speak chipmunk, so he was requesting the DA's office to send another tape with the audio at a correct speed.
Eric showed me this letter, then the letter he sent in response. It stated that his tape had the same problem, and that he had also noticed that the people involved sounded like chipmunks. This confirmed a suspicion of his that the defendants were, in fact, chipmunks. In addition, he (Eric) happens to speak a little chipmunk, and that what the defendant was saying on the tape was "I am guilty. I am guilty. I am guilty."
EDIT: Eric sent the letters to the police department, along with the request for new tapes. Clearly, they got a laugh out of it. The lady that returned the new tapes affixed stickers of Alvin, Simon, and Theodore to the plastic case, and labelled it "Eric and the Chipmunks."
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Sometimes You've Just Got To....
Win a motherf*ckin jury trial!
So that's how I spent my yesterday, and it was pretty sweet. It was an OWI first offense, so it was non-criminal. The guy had already lost on the refusal hearing, which actually has a higher penalty than anything he'd face from losing the OWI, but he was wealthy and he hired a top-shelf OWI defense attorney to fight it. Apparently the guy does a lot of business in Illinios, where they don't count our refusals as prior convictions. So this trial didn't mean much in WI, but it was important for the FIBs. So, we decided to win this for the dirty FIBs.
The case itself looked solid, but was kinda sketchy once we really got into it. We didn't have a BAC because of the refusal, and the cop didn't force a blood draw since it was only a civil charge. But the refusal itself was weak, because the guy was blowing into the intoximeter, then had to stop and inhale, then blow some more, which never gave a sufficient sample. So it was hard to tell whether he was really trying or not. The defense attorney had fun arguing that, and the fact that we didn't have a test result, and the fact that the officer didn't force a blood test when he could have.
I got to do the entire thing, from Voir Dire to closings. I also filed a last minute Motion in Limine, which we handled at the beginning. I wanted to argue it, but the judge specifically asked my supervisor a question on it, so he just handled the argument. I had thought the case was strong enough with the evidence we wanted to admit (the act of refusing a PBT), so I wasn't going to file it. But then I had some free time on Friday and thought what the hell. It was a damn good thing too, because that helped establish a pattern which made the other evidence look stronger.
Overall, my performance was pretty solid. My opening was a little stiff compared to the other attorney, who was animated and personable. The direct exam of the officer was good, I had easily 100 questions or so, but the defense attorney called a lot of it into question. The cross of the defendant wasn't that strong, because they explained away a lot of things I wanted to ask. But the closing arguments were great. By this time I was more comfortable, and I gave a pretty kickass closing. The defense guy also gave a good one, and included some story about how field sobriety tests are like carnival games, designed to make people fail. I got to give a rebuttal, and this was all off the cuff by now. So I said that the tests aren't designed to make people fail, they're designed to make drunk people fail - - people who can't follow simple directions or stand up without falling over, people who shouldn't be driving a car. All in all, pretty strong.
The jury went out for 40 minutes (it was a 6 person jury), then came back with the verdict. No one was all that concerned with the verdict, because they already had the refusal, and we don't care much about the FIBs, to be honest. This was more of just a no pressure case, which would be cool to win. But I cared about the verdict, you can bet your sweet ass.
The jury came back, and it was a unanimous guilty verdict. It was all I could do to keep from standing up Josh Lyman style and saying "Victory is mine! I have drunk from the keg of glory! Bring me all the finest muffins and bagels in all the land." But I just smiled politely instead.
Awesome experience, let me tell you. It was in a very relaxed court with a pretty informal judge, the defense attorney was actually a pretty cool guy, and my parents and one of my grandmothers showed up for the first half. I had a hella good time.
One word: Undefeated.
So that's how I spent my yesterday, and it was pretty sweet. It was an OWI first offense, so it was non-criminal. The guy had already lost on the refusal hearing, which actually has a higher penalty than anything he'd face from losing the OWI, but he was wealthy and he hired a top-shelf OWI defense attorney to fight it. Apparently the guy does a lot of business in Illinios, where they don't count our refusals as prior convictions. So this trial didn't mean much in WI, but it was important for the FIBs. So, we decided to win this for the dirty FIBs.
The case itself looked solid, but was kinda sketchy once we really got into it. We didn't have a BAC because of the refusal, and the cop didn't force a blood draw since it was only a civil charge. But the refusal itself was weak, because the guy was blowing into the intoximeter, then had to stop and inhale, then blow some more, which never gave a sufficient sample. So it was hard to tell whether he was really trying or not. The defense attorney had fun arguing that, and the fact that we didn't have a test result, and the fact that the officer didn't force a blood test when he could have.
I got to do the entire thing, from Voir Dire to closings. I also filed a last minute Motion in Limine, which we handled at the beginning. I wanted to argue it, but the judge specifically asked my supervisor a question on it, so he just handled the argument. I had thought the case was strong enough with the evidence we wanted to admit (the act of refusing a PBT), so I wasn't going to file it. But then I had some free time on Friday and thought what the hell. It was a damn good thing too, because that helped establish a pattern which made the other evidence look stronger.
Overall, my performance was pretty solid. My opening was a little stiff compared to the other attorney, who was animated and personable. The direct exam of the officer was good, I had easily 100 questions or so, but the defense attorney called a lot of it into question. The cross of the defendant wasn't that strong, because they explained away a lot of things I wanted to ask. But the closing arguments were great. By this time I was more comfortable, and I gave a pretty kickass closing. The defense guy also gave a good one, and included some story about how field sobriety tests are like carnival games, designed to make people fail. I got to give a rebuttal, and this was all off the cuff by now. So I said that the tests aren't designed to make people fail, they're designed to make drunk people fail - - people who can't follow simple directions or stand up without falling over, people who shouldn't be driving a car. All in all, pretty strong.
The jury went out for 40 minutes (it was a 6 person jury), then came back with the verdict. No one was all that concerned with the verdict, because they already had the refusal, and we don't care much about the FIBs, to be honest. This was more of just a no pressure case, which would be cool to win. But I cared about the verdict, you can bet your sweet ass.
The jury came back, and it was a unanimous guilty verdict. It was all I could do to keep from standing up Josh Lyman style and saying "Victory is mine! I have drunk from the keg of glory! Bring me all the finest muffins and bagels in all the land." But I just smiled politely instead.
Awesome experience, let me tell you. It was in a very relaxed court with a pretty informal judge, the defense attorney was actually a pretty cool guy, and my parents and one of my grandmothers showed up for the first half. I had a hella good time.
One word: Undefeated.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Unpublish This
I hate these goddamned unpublished cases. Seriously, every time I have to research something, I find a case that's perfectly on point and decided exactly the way we want it to be, and its unpublished and worthless for precedential value. Unpublished cases are like having a hot chick suddenly appear before you, naked, holding a massive chocolate cake. Then the proclamation comes down from above: "Both the hottie and the cake are 'look but don't touch,' sucker."
Fucking unpublished cases.
(Points to genitals)
Fucking unpublished cases.
(Points to genitals)
Monday, July 17, 2006
Ridin' Dirty
As duly appointed emissary of the ghetto, from time to time I'm asked to share my knowledge of African American culture (read: hip hop) so that others may partake in the joys of blackitude. Now is one of those times. You may have heard the song "Ridin" by Chamillionaire on the radio recently, and if so you've probably asked yourself "What exactly is ridin' dirty?" Let me enlighten you:
As with any sort of textual interpretation, you need to start with the context. The chorus repeats the phrase "They tryin' to catch me ridin' dirty." This begs the question, who are "they?" My initial suspicions on this were correct - - "they" in this context refers to police officers. I've included an appendix with a link to the lyrics; note the word "patrolling" in the chorus, which almost certainly refers to Five-0. For further evidence, Chamillionaire discusses in his first verse how police are trying to see him "lean" - - I believe "lean" as used presently means leaning to the side and scoping out the scene, contemplating any criminal activity that may arise, and potentially for bitches and/or hos.
Essentially, "ridin dirty" refers to getting one's ride on - - hustling, if you will. The word "dirty" evinces a criminal aspect to said hustling. Indeed, Chamillionaire implies that such conduct by the police officers constitutes racial profiling. Peep these lyrics from verse three:
"So they get behind me tryin to check my tags, look at my rearview and they smilin
Thinkin they'll catch me on the wrong well keep tryin
Cause they denyin is racial profiling"
Chamillionaire is essentially bemoaning the attempts by police to arrest him and his fellow ballers for living in luxury, driving expensive cars, bumping their music at excessively high volumes, rocking fly gold chains/rings/teeth, and getting freaky with aforementioned bitches and/or hos. And while some of Chamillionaire's activities may be intrinsically against the law, he feels needlessly hated on. Ultimately, "Ridin" serves as a scathing social commentary, where the artist rails against the law enforcement of a society that neither understands nor appreciates the work Cha puts in while on the grind.
So there you have it. Now you and your friends can accurately characterize the type of ridin' you're engaging in at any given time. If there are any other questions I can answer, feel free to send them my way. And in the mean time, try not to get caught ridin' dirty.
Appendix A:
"I was looking for context clues, like I learned from Reading Rainbow..."
- The quote, or very nearly the quote, used by Kristin to describe her attempts at discerning the meaning behind "Ridin' dirty."
Appendix B:
"Ridin"(Chamillionaire feat. Krayzie Bone)
Word.
As with any sort of textual interpretation, you need to start with the context. The chorus repeats the phrase "They tryin' to catch me ridin' dirty." This begs the question, who are "they?" My initial suspicions on this were correct - - "they" in this context refers to police officers. I've included an appendix with a link to the lyrics; note the word "patrolling" in the chorus, which almost certainly refers to Five-0. For further evidence, Chamillionaire discusses in his first verse how police are trying to see him "lean" - - I believe "lean" as used presently means leaning to the side and scoping out the scene, contemplating any criminal activity that may arise, and potentially for bitches and/or hos.
Essentially, "ridin dirty" refers to getting one's ride on - - hustling, if you will. The word "dirty" evinces a criminal aspect to said hustling. Indeed, Chamillionaire implies that such conduct by the police officers constitutes racial profiling. Peep these lyrics from verse three:
"So they get behind me tryin to check my tags, look at my rearview and they smilin
Thinkin they'll catch me on the wrong well keep tryin
Cause they denyin is racial profiling"
Chamillionaire is essentially bemoaning the attempts by police to arrest him and his fellow ballers for living in luxury, driving expensive cars, bumping their music at excessively high volumes, rocking fly gold chains/rings/teeth, and getting freaky with aforementioned bitches and/or hos. And while some of Chamillionaire's activities may be intrinsically against the law, he feels needlessly hated on. Ultimately, "Ridin" serves as a scathing social commentary, where the artist rails against the law enforcement of a society that neither understands nor appreciates the work Cha puts in while on the grind.
So there you have it. Now you and your friends can accurately characterize the type of ridin' you're engaging in at any given time. If there are any other questions I can answer, feel free to send them my way. And in the mean time, try not to get caught ridin' dirty.
Appendix A:
"I was looking for context clues, like I learned from Reading Rainbow..."
- The quote, or very nearly the quote, used by Kristin to describe her attempts at discerning the meaning behind "Ridin' dirty."
Appendix B:
"Ridin"(Chamillionaire feat. Krayzie Bone)
Word.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Chicago's Finest
I shared this one with Kristin already, but I thought this was worthy of publication for all to see. We celebrated Penis Day at the DA's office the other day. This involved a discussion between two of the attornies, myself and the other intern, where the attornies shared their best penis-related legal stories. My favorite came from a guy who used to work in Chicago, where they had a couple of cops who were notoriously crazy and fun-loving. On this particular story, there was a sexual assault case where there wasn't any physical evidence to back up the victim, and the DA told the cops he wasn't going to be able to prosecute the case without a confession. The cops told him not to worry, they would handle it. So the cops found the suspect and asked if they could have his "pecker print." When he asked what this was, they said that every phallus has its own unique pattern, just like fingerprints. The guy went along with it, so the cops took him into the station and had him lay his penis on a copy machine. They scanned the penis, and sent him back to another room to wait. Then they took the scanned copy, made a photocopy of the penile image, and then returned to the room. They told the guy that the scanned copy was his pecker print, and the photocopy was the one they got from the victim's vagina, and the two were identical. The man confessed.
The other penis stories weren't as funny, but there were two other stories about these renegade cops. The next story I'd dedicate to Andy. The cops knew that one particular subway was rife with pickpockets. So they set up a guy pretending to sleep, with his watch and other items sticking out. A pickpocket passed by, grabbed the items, and took off running. The sleeper stood up and shouted, then radioed the suspect in. What the suspect didn't know was that the cops had another officer waiting - he was absolutely huge, like a bodybuilder, and very tall. He was waiting behind another wall, where the cops had loosened the hinges on a door. And --- he was dressed as Superman. So the suspect runs toward this wall, and all the sudden the officer kicks down this door, steps out in his superman gear, grabs and lifts the suspect into the air, and lets him dangle there for awhile. The cops arrive quickly, and Supercop then hands the suspect over to the officers. Then, at trial, the suspect says he wasn't caught by the cops, he was caught by Superman. He was later referred for a psych evaluation.
And finally, the cops had been investigating this warehouse where robbers had been storing stolen merchandise for a long time. So one night the cops disable all the lights in the warehouse, and wait for the guys to return. That night the robbers came back with more stuff, and found all the lights out in the warehouse. So they got out their flashlights and crept through the building, until they came upon something unusual - one of the cops had dressed up as Wolfman, in full wolf costume with a mask and hair and fangs. He was crouched on some shelf like 8 feet off the ground, and as soon as they saw him he started snarling, then leaped down at them. Other cops, who were positioned elsewhere to watch, described it as the funniest thing they ever saw - all the sudden the flashlights clatter to the ground and the robbers took off screaming. One ran directly into a large metal pole and knocked himself unconscious.
Of course, they're not allowed to do stuff like that anymore. But still, the fact that someone can take law enforcement and have fun with it - - that's just fantastic, and something to aspire to.
The other penis stories weren't as funny, but there were two other stories about these renegade cops. The next story I'd dedicate to Andy. The cops knew that one particular subway was rife with pickpockets. So they set up a guy pretending to sleep, with his watch and other items sticking out. A pickpocket passed by, grabbed the items, and took off running. The sleeper stood up and shouted, then radioed the suspect in. What the suspect didn't know was that the cops had another officer waiting - he was absolutely huge, like a bodybuilder, and very tall. He was waiting behind another wall, where the cops had loosened the hinges on a door. And --- he was dressed as Superman. So the suspect runs toward this wall, and all the sudden the officer kicks down this door, steps out in his superman gear, grabs and lifts the suspect into the air, and lets him dangle there for awhile. The cops arrive quickly, and Supercop then hands the suspect over to the officers. Then, at trial, the suspect says he wasn't caught by the cops, he was caught by Superman. He was later referred for a psych evaluation.
And finally, the cops had been investigating this warehouse where robbers had been storing stolen merchandise for a long time. So one night the cops disable all the lights in the warehouse, and wait for the guys to return. That night the robbers came back with more stuff, and found all the lights out in the warehouse. So they got out their flashlights and crept through the building, until they came upon something unusual - one of the cops had dressed up as Wolfman, in full wolf costume with a mask and hair and fangs. He was crouched on some shelf like 8 feet off the ground, and as soon as they saw him he started snarling, then leaped down at them. Other cops, who were positioned elsewhere to watch, described it as the funniest thing they ever saw - all the sudden the flashlights clatter to the ground and the robbers took off screaming. One ran directly into a large metal pole and knocked himself unconscious.
Of course, they're not allowed to do stuff like that anymore. But still, the fact that someone can take law enforcement and have fun with it - - that's just fantastic, and something to aspire to.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Trivial
I can't pass this one up. I tried to pick my favorite movies and some less obvious quotes. That being said, number 12 and 13 are pretty easy, but classic. And I couldn't include any Lord of the Rings or Revenge of the Sith quotes, because they were far too easy.
The Rules:
A. Pick 11 of your favorite movies.
B. Then pick one of your favorite quotes from each movie.
C. Post the quotes on your blog.
D. Have commenters guess what the movie is.
E. Place the guesser's user ndirectly after the quote.
F. Extra points for knowing the actor and/or character's name.
The Quotes:
1. "I wasn’t aware Nazi Camp got out til 8. What did you do, skip arts and crafts?"
"Yes, I did."
Dodgeball - Peter LaFleur (Vince Vaughn) - identified by Kristin. Although, you should mention the retort was by White Goodman (Ben Stiller). That's what really makes the quote.
2. "Enhance. Enhance. Enhance."
Supertroopers - Ramathorn (Jay Chandrasomething) - identified by Andy
3. "I'm a monster. What I do is evil. I have no illusions about it, but it must be done."
Serenity - the Operative (Chiwetel Ejiofor) - identified by Andy
4. "It's like wiping your arse with silk. I love it."
Matrix: Reloaded - the Merovingian (Lambert Wilson) - identified by Tortceaser
5. "A vigilante is just a man lost in the scramble for his own gratification. He can be destroyed, or locked up; but if you make yourself more than just a man, if you devote yourself to an ideal, and if they can't stop you, you become something else entirely."
Batman Begins - Ducard (Liam Neeson) - identified by Tortceaser
6. "They're your clothes, motherfucker."
Pulp Fiction - Jules (Samuel L Jackson) - identified by Tortceaser
7. "So here I am - standing in your doorway. I have always been standing in your doorway. Isn't it about time somebody saved your life?"
Spiderman 2 - Mary Jane Watson (Kirsten Dunst) - identified by Kristin
8. "I’m going to my room, where it’s not so…(looking at stepdad)…I don’t know…stupid."
Big Trouble - Jenny Herk (Zooey Deschanel) - identified by X-Tina
9. "Yeah, well I'm taller."
Speed - Jack Traven (Keanu Reeves) identified by Johnny Utah
- FYI - this is also my preferred line of choice after decapitating my enemies
10. "You are a god among insects. Never let anyone tell you different."
X-Men 2 - Magneto (Ian McKellen) - identified by Andy, though much later than I would have figured
11. "Technically, it's a ferret."
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire - Alastor Moody [actually Barty Crouch Jr] (Brendan Gleeson) - identified by Kristin
Bonus, just for fun:
12. "No way. Why should I change? He's the one who sucks."
Office Space - Michael Bolton (David Herman) - identified by Andy
13. "Yippie-ki-yay, motherfucker!"
Die Hard - John McClane (Bruce Willis) - identified by Tortceaser
The Rules:
A. Pick 11 of your favorite movies.
B. Then pick one of your favorite quotes from each movie.
C. Post the quotes on your blog.
D. Have commenters guess what the movie is.
E. Place the guesser's user ndirectly after the quote.
F. Extra points for knowing the actor and/or character's name.
The Quotes:
1. "I wasn’t aware Nazi Camp got out til 8. What did you do, skip arts and crafts?"
"Yes, I did."
Dodgeball - Peter LaFleur (Vince Vaughn) - identified by Kristin. Although, you should mention the retort was by White Goodman (Ben Stiller). That's what really makes the quote.
2. "Enhance. Enhance. Enhance."
Supertroopers - Ramathorn (Jay Chandrasomething) - identified by Andy
3. "I'm a monster. What I do is evil. I have no illusions about it, but it must be done."
Serenity - the Operative (Chiwetel Ejiofor) - identified by Andy
4. "It's like wiping your arse with silk. I love it."
Matrix: Reloaded - the Merovingian (Lambert Wilson) - identified by Tortceaser
5. "A vigilante is just a man lost in the scramble for his own gratification. He can be destroyed, or locked up; but if you make yourself more than just a man, if you devote yourself to an ideal, and if they can't stop you, you become something else entirely."
Batman Begins - Ducard (Liam Neeson) - identified by Tortceaser
6. "They're your clothes, motherfucker."
Pulp Fiction - Jules (Samuel L Jackson) - identified by Tortceaser
7. "So here I am - standing in your doorway. I have always been standing in your doorway. Isn't it about time somebody saved your life?"
Spiderman 2 - Mary Jane Watson (Kirsten Dunst) - identified by Kristin
8. "I’m going to my room, where it’s not so…(looking at stepdad)…I don’t know…stupid."
Big Trouble - Jenny Herk (Zooey Deschanel) - identified by X-Tina
9. "Yeah, well I'm taller."
Speed - Jack Traven (Keanu Reeves) identified by Johnny Utah
- FYI - this is also my preferred line of choice after decapitating my enemies
10. "You are a god among insects. Never let anyone tell you different."
X-Men 2 - Magneto (Ian McKellen) - identified by Andy, though much later than I would have figured
11. "Technically, it's a ferret."
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire - Alastor Moody [actually Barty Crouch Jr] (Brendan Gleeson) - identified by Kristin
Bonus, just for fun:
12. "No way. Why should I change? He's the one who sucks."
Office Space - Michael Bolton (David Herman) - identified by Andy
13. "Yippie-ki-yay, motherfucker!"
Die Hard - John McClane (Bruce Willis) - identified by Tortceaser
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Your Move, Funkmaster
Big news from the business and technology department. My two year contract for my phone expired recently, and as my first paycheck for the summer was about to arrive, I decided to procure a new phone. I didn't know what to get; all I'm really interested among the newfangledness of phones today is the ringtones. I gotsta be rockin' me some fly-ass ringtones, mmm hmm. And I know the RAZR is good for ringtones. But at my store, it was by far the most expensive, despite a $100 mail-in rebate. Since I didn't have the requisite coin in hand yet, I figured I'd just go for something basic and affordable. So I got the updated model of what I already had, and it was decent. (Especially because the thing actually charged when I plugged it in, unlike some other piece of $&%# phones that shall remain nameless, specifically my last phone) The ringtones were still an issue - I knew with a RAZR you could use a data cable or bluetooth to download real songs from your computer/Ipod; with this phone I would have to buy them, and I would be limited to the selection they had, which I discovered was piss poor. So, blah blah blah, I had a new phone.
But then hope arrived in the form of a $350 check which I hadn't been expecting for a month yet. Long story short, I said fuck everything, and exchanged my phone for the RAZR. This makes me the third member of MZRM to rock the RAZR, which I'd say makes it the official phone of the firm that takes badassery to a whole new level, and then thrashes its ass with an electric spike whip. This leaves you, Utah. Not that I bought it because thats what all the cool people are doing. I bought it because it was the only one that really stood out from the other new phones, except for one that had a weird sliding feature. The problem was the keys were still exposed; not a big deal, but I don't want to mess around with keyguard. Having to lock and unlock the keys every time I need to make a call takes away precious seconds, and every second counts when you absolutely need to call everyone to tell them about Utah's latest showdown/robbing by/robbing of/fistfight with a homeless person and/or racoon, or you covertly dial Madd0g's phone just to hear your own ringtone going off.
I've gotta say, this purchase feels pretty good. I don't usually go all out with accessories and top of the line personal items, but I put some thought into it -- I only get a phone every two years. It should be a major step up each time, right? Why get something that's just marginally better than the last one? And then there's the simple fact that I was too good for the first new phone. Hence, RAZR, which is very possibly too good for me.
Now, to hook up some tones. The question becomes this: which of you wants their personal ringer to be "Pimp Juice" by Nelly?
But then hope arrived in the form of a $350 check which I hadn't been expecting for a month yet. Long story short, I said fuck everything, and exchanged my phone for the RAZR. This makes me the third member of MZRM to rock the RAZR, which I'd say makes it the official phone of the firm that takes badassery to a whole new level, and then thrashes its ass with an electric spike whip. This leaves you, Utah. Not that I bought it because thats what all the cool people are doing. I bought it because it was the only one that really stood out from the other new phones, except for one that had a weird sliding feature. The problem was the keys were still exposed; not a big deal, but I don't want to mess around with keyguard. Having to lock and unlock the keys every time I need to make a call takes away precious seconds, and every second counts when you absolutely need to call everyone to tell them about Utah's latest showdown/robbing by/robbing of/fistfight with a homeless person and/or racoon, or you covertly dial Madd0g's phone just to hear your own ringtone going off.
I've gotta say, this purchase feels pretty good. I don't usually go all out with accessories and top of the line personal items, but I put some thought into it -- I only get a phone every two years. It should be a major step up each time, right? Why get something that's just marginally better than the last one? And then there's the simple fact that I was too good for the first new phone. Hence, RAZR, which is very possibly too good for me.
Now, to hook up some tones. The question becomes this: which of you wants their personal ringer to be "Pimp Juice" by Nelly?
Sunday, July 02, 2006
For What it Is
"Were we even watching the same movie?"
This is a line often heard when people's opinions about movies differ drastically. Same movie, two completely different reactions.
For those of you who've read Andy's post about Superman, I too attended the advanced screening of Superman Returns last week. As his post indicates, Andy felt it was possibly one of the greatest movies ever made. While I really enjoyed the movie overall, I walked away feeling a little disappointed. I couldn't put my finger on any one thing; the action scenes were phenomenal, especially the flying; the actors were pretty good, especially Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor; the themes of regret and resposibility came across beautifully; and the story...well, other than the actual dastardly plot itself (he was growing a flippin' continent!), the story was also passable. (Ok, side rant, the continent thing? Lex had these super crystals; story-wise, the writers could have come up with any number of awesome possibilities for what he could do with those crystals. But growing a continent?? Um....rrrright.) Alright, rant over. I'm generally willing to overlook a silly plot for an entertaining story, so that didn't detract too much.
But somehow I just didn't see it as a spectacular cinematic achievement like Andy. I even had to stifle a little laughter when he said it was a near-religious experience for him. Apparently I was missing something.
And I was, most definitely. Not something about the movie itself. I was missing his perspective. As all who know and love Mr. Martinez can attest to, he is a diehard Man of Steel fanatic. So when a long-delayed, long-awaited, nine-figure blockbuster movie production comes out to bring the beloved characters back to life, one might imagine he could have some difficulty viewing it objectively. Anything that does even a passable job would be amazing to him, right?
That was pretty much the way I saw it, until I re-watched the movie Serenity the other night. Most of you have seen it, but I'll summarize the details briefly. Serenity is the movie follow up to the aborted television show Firefly, created by Joss Whedon. I have been a major fan of Joss for many years now, having absolutely loved his previous shows, Angel and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. He has a unique brand of action, adventure, compelling characters, and laugh-out-loud humor that always captures my imagination. Despite this, I didn't watch Firefly when it was on the air. I caught the series on dvd when I heard they were making a movie - I wanted to see what the fuss was about. So I watched all 14 episodes. Then I watched them again. And again. By the time the movie came out, I had seen them all probably 5 times. This isn't unusual - I own or rent many series on dvd and watch them repeatedly - but this show was particularly good, especially for the incredible potential it had. I loved the characters. I loved the setting. I loved the conflicts and the themes. I simply loved it.
So the movie came out, and I went with all my friends (re: you). I was positively blown away. They were able to perfectly recreate a story I loved on the big screen, and advanced it in exciting, meaningful, and at times heart-wrenching ways. I think everyone that went enjoyed it, but having seen the series and connected with the story and characters beforehand, I enjoyed it on a much higher level than anyone who went in cold. And now, if I tell people that Serenity was one of the top three movies of all time, I'm sure to get funny looks, even from people who enjoyed it. It was relatively low-budget ($40 mil), had no big-named stars, and it borrowed a lot from Star Wars and other of its predecessors. (The Mal/Han Solo comparison is obvious.) But for me, that was a nearly flawless cinematic experience.
So now I have a greater appreciation of Superman Returns, at least for what it means to Andy. There are certain stories that speak to each of us on an entirely different level than to everyone else; others can see something for what it is, but no one can see something for what it is to me.
Were we even watching the same movie?
No. No, we really were not.
This is a line often heard when people's opinions about movies differ drastically. Same movie, two completely different reactions.
For those of you who've read Andy's post about Superman, I too attended the advanced screening of Superman Returns last week. As his post indicates, Andy felt it was possibly one of the greatest movies ever made. While I really enjoyed the movie overall, I walked away feeling a little disappointed. I couldn't put my finger on any one thing; the action scenes were phenomenal, especially the flying; the actors were pretty good, especially Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor; the themes of regret and resposibility came across beautifully; and the story...well, other than the actual dastardly plot itself (he was growing a flippin' continent!), the story was also passable. (Ok, side rant, the continent thing? Lex had these super crystals; story-wise, the writers could have come up with any number of awesome possibilities for what he could do with those crystals. But growing a continent?? Um....rrrright.) Alright, rant over. I'm generally willing to overlook a silly plot for an entertaining story, so that didn't detract too much.
But somehow I just didn't see it as a spectacular cinematic achievement like Andy. I even had to stifle a little laughter when he said it was a near-religious experience for him. Apparently I was missing something.
And I was, most definitely. Not something about the movie itself. I was missing his perspective. As all who know and love Mr. Martinez can attest to, he is a diehard Man of Steel fanatic. So when a long-delayed, long-awaited, nine-figure blockbuster movie production comes out to bring the beloved characters back to life, one might imagine he could have some difficulty viewing it objectively. Anything that does even a passable job would be amazing to him, right?
That was pretty much the way I saw it, until I re-watched the movie Serenity the other night. Most of you have seen it, but I'll summarize the details briefly. Serenity is the movie follow up to the aborted television show Firefly, created by Joss Whedon. I have been a major fan of Joss for many years now, having absolutely loved his previous shows, Angel and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. He has a unique brand of action, adventure, compelling characters, and laugh-out-loud humor that always captures my imagination. Despite this, I didn't watch Firefly when it was on the air. I caught the series on dvd when I heard they were making a movie - I wanted to see what the fuss was about. So I watched all 14 episodes. Then I watched them again. And again. By the time the movie came out, I had seen them all probably 5 times. This isn't unusual - I own or rent many series on dvd and watch them repeatedly - but this show was particularly good, especially for the incredible potential it had. I loved the characters. I loved the setting. I loved the conflicts and the themes. I simply loved it.
So the movie came out, and I went with all my friends (re: you). I was positively blown away. They were able to perfectly recreate a story I loved on the big screen, and advanced it in exciting, meaningful, and at times heart-wrenching ways. I think everyone that went enjoyed it, but having seen the series and connected with the story and characters beforehand, I enjoyed it on a much higher level than anyone who went in cold. And now, if I tell people that Serenity was one of the top three movies of all time, I'm sure to get funny looks, even from people who enjoyed it. It was relatively low-budget ($40 mil), had no big-named stars, and it borrowed a lot from Star Wars and other of its predecessors. (The Mal/Han Solo comparison is obvious.) But for me, that was a nearly flawless cinematic experience.
So now I have a greater appreciation of Superman Returns, at least for what it means to Andy. There are certain stories that speak to each of us on an entirely different level than to everyone else; others can see something for what it is, but no one can see something for what it is to me.
Were we even watching the same movie?
No. No, we really were not.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Sign Me Up
Today in my mailbox at work I received a pamphlet entitled "What you need to know about your reporting requirements as a Registered Sex Offender in Wisconsin." Now, I don't know how they found me, but I'm glad they did. This sounds like a pretty sweet deal. I have to fill out a little information and send it in to the Wisconsin Sex Offender Registry, then I'm all set. I'll get the periodic emails, the newsletter ("The Weekly Rapist"), a club t-shirt with the phrase "Sexually Offensive" in big pink letters over a black background, and an invitation to the monthly meeting, where I imagine we'll trade war stories and tips.
Anyone else down?
Anyone else down?
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Quotable
"God, there's so much things I hate! I can't even grammar correctly."
- Andrew Ismael Martinez
EDIT: This quote has been changed to reflect the statement more accurately, as per author's request.
EDIT: This quote has been changed again, and is now actually correct. But I don't appreciate the author's tone in attempting to correct me, so I will publish another of his quotes:
"NSYNC was a band I could get behind, if you know what I mean."
- Andrew Ismael Martinez
EDIT: This quote has been changed to reflect the statement more accurately, as per author's request.
EDIT: This quote has been changed again, and is now actually correct. But I don't appreciate the author's tone in attempting to correct me, so I will publish another of his quotes:
"NSYNC was a band I could get behind, if you know what I mean."
Thursday, June 22, 2006
I Know Kung Fu
 | You scored as Neo, the "One". Neo is the computer hacker-turned-Messiah of the Matrix. He leads a small group of human rebels against the technology that controls them. Neo doubts his ability to lead but doesn't want to disappoint his friends. His goal is for a world where all men know the Truth and are free from the bonds of the Matrix.
Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0 created with QuizFarm.com |
The Unfailing Stupidity of the Criminal Mind
Working in the prosecutor's office, I come into contact with a vast amount of criminal cases. And, as you can imagine, criminals aren't generally the most intellectually proficient class of citizens out there. And with the amount of criminal behavior I end up reading about, my job can be pretty entertaining at times. After making a charging decision, I occasionally end up meeting these people in court for their hearings and speaking with them about the State's offer. So it's like "Sir, if you'd like to plead to this charge, we'll dismiss the lower count, recommend 20 days in jail, a $350 fine, and present you with a Darwin award for your astonishingly moronic exploits. Thanks for playing, I'm sure I'll see you again next week."
A few examples of the mastermind element:
A cop pulls a woman over for drunk driving. As he's going back to his squad car to get the breathalyzer, the woman's friend drives by, also plastered, and sees her friend stopped by the cop. So, in a brazen display of mental deficiency, she pulls her vehicle over, gets out and runs toward the officer. She then begins to harass the officer, asking him why in the hell he pulled over her friend. Naturally, the officer arrests the second woman for drunk driving and obstructing a police officer.
The police found a man alleged to be having sex with an underaged woman. The police stop him, ask him his name, and he tells them "Michael Jordan." Now, of all the false identification choices you can give, why go with an internationally known superstar athlete? The police report was great because it read something like "After looking the suspect over, the officer suspected that this man was, in fact, not Michael Jordan." And at court, it was all I could do to restrain myself from going over to the defense table and asking him for his autograph.
An officer pulls over a car full of three young guys. They are all drunk, and they have marijuana in the vehicle. The cop walks up and approaches the driver, who rolls down his window. At this time, the other two passengers attempt to duck down to escape the officer's view. I can just imagine how this plays out: the officer is standing at the window, shining his flashlight at the two idiots who are ducking down out of view, and he says "Uh...excuse me....you fellas do know I can see you, right?"
This one is less funny, but equally bizarre to me. A couple has been married for twenty years. One day they arrive home from a dinner, and the husband is going to head upstairs. He says he's going upstairs, and his wife responds with something like "Copy?" At this point, the husband becomes enraged, and rushes back down. A knock-down, drag-out, marriage-ending fight ensues. So I get to dictate the domestic disorderly conduct complaint. "Officers responded to a domestic disturbance between a husband and wife, where a boisterous and violent disagreement broke out after the wife uttered the unforgiveable curse of "Copy?" Now, I'm told this isn't uncommon with domestics, and plenty more must have been simmering under the surface. Thankfully I only got to see the straw that blew the entire marriage all to hell.
And, lastly, there was a case in Racine where a woman had a restraining order against her ex-boyfriend. The guy then attempted to violate the order by seeing her again, and tried to break into her house. So he smashed his arm through her window and tried to climb in. However, he cut his arm badly on the broken glass, so he decided not to continue climbing through. At that point he attempted to flee. But his arm was cut so badly that he bled to death on the way home. That just goes to show you - violating a restraining order might just get your stupid ass killed.
I'll keep you updated as the contenders roll in.
A few examples of the mastermind element:
A cop pulls a woman over for drunk driving. As he's going back to his squad car to get the breathalyzer, the woman's friend drives by, also plastered, and sees her friend stopped by the cop. So, in a brazen display of mental deficiency, she pulls her vehicle over, gets out and runs toward the officer. She then begins to harass the officer, asking him why in the hell he pulled over her friend. Naturally, the officer arrests the second woman for drunk driving and obstructing a police officer.
The police found a man alleged to be having sex with an underaged woman. The police stop him, ask him his name, and he tells them "Michael Jordan." Now, of all the false identification choices you can give, why go with an internationally known superstar athlete? The police report was great because it read something like "After looking the suspect over, the officer suspected that this man was, in fact, not Michael Jordan." And at court, it was all I could do to restrain myself from going over to the defense table and asking him for his autograph.
An officer pulls over a car full of three young guys. They are all drunk, and they have marijuana in the vehicle. The cop walks up and approaches the driver, who rolls down his window. At this time, the other two passengers attempt to duck down to escape the officer's view. I can just imagine how this plays out: the officer is standing at the window, shining his flashlight at the two idiots who are ducking down out of view, and he says "Uh...excuse me....you fellas do know I can see you, right?"
This one is less funny, but equally bizarre to me. A couple has been married for twenty years. One day they arrive home from a dinner, and the husband is going to head upstairs. He says he's going upstairs, and his wife responds with something like "Copy?" At this point, the husband becomes enraged, and rushes back down. A knock-down, drag-out, marriage-ending fight ensues. So I get to dictate the domestic disorderly conduct complaint. "Officers responded to a domestic disturbance between a husband and wife, where a boisterous and violent disagreement broke out after the wife uttered the unforgiveable curse of "Copy?" Now, I'm told this isn't uncommon with domestics, and plenty more must have been simmering under the surface. Thankfully I only got to see the straw that blew the entire marriage all to hell.
And, lastly, there was a case in Racine where a woman had a restraining order against her ex-boyfriend. The guy then attempted to violate the order by seeing her again, and tried to break into her house. So he smashed his arm through her window and tried to climb in. However, he cut his arm badly on the broken glass, so he decided not to continue climbing through. At that point he attempted to flee. But his arm was cut so badly that he bled to death on the way home. That just goes to show you - violating a restraining order might just get your stupid ass killed.
I'll keep you updated as the contenders roll in.
Monday, June 19, 2006
The High Life
Today marked the end of another extravagent weekend. I spent the weekend between Madison and Devil's Lake with the lovely Ms. Purple Hays.
In the clouds.
We decided to go camping, so we gathered our sleeping bags, flashlights, bayonets, s'more ingredients, bear repellent, firewood, PBR, and tactical nuclear weapons, and piled them into the vehicle before trekking into the wilderness (re: there were multiple trees in the vicinity). The amount of supplies we took along for the one night stay was rather obscene, but not nearly as obscene as your mom's face.
Due to the massive FIB influx, all the campsites within the Devil's Lake campgrounds were booked, so we were relegated to staying all the way on the other side of the street, in a fairly decent campground called Nordic Pines. After setting up the tent, we went back into the park. The weather was a stifling 18000 degrees as we began our hike up the western bluff of Mt. Doom, but the views were spectacular as always.
Breathtaking scenery.
The lake was cool too.
On the way back down, the humidity lightened and we had a pretty decent breeze. We made our way around to the south shore to rendezvous with a chili dog and another friend who was at the park that day as well. After a brief cool down in the lake, where Kristin and I utterly failed to dazzle anyone with our lack of frisbee abilities, we chilled on the shore and took in some sun.
Then it was back up the eastern bluff. More picturesque sights, and a fair amount of rocks:
Rocks.
Also, the water was doing some sort of wicked ripple effect, as depicted here:
We decided to skip the Devil's Doorway and other surrounding attractions for the day, as we would do more hiking the next day. So we headed down across the bluff, and on that historic voyage, Cake Day was formed. Feeling good about the hiking experience and the prospect of grilled brats and cake on the horizon, we headed back.
One brief stop to WalMart later, and bad-ass chocolate truffle cake was secured:
Bad-ass!
Then back to the camp site. No sooner had the brats hit the grill than the heavens opened and began to rain on our goddamn parade. But we persevered, eating the brats inside the tent, and followed them up with the first of what would promise to be several helpings of phenomenal cake. The rain let up after awhile, and we (re: Kristin) built a fire. Through sheer pyromaniacal genius, she was able to build us an impressive display of fire, and thus began the roasting of marshmallows. The scent of 'mallow in the air inevitably attracted a stampeding horde of bison:
Interlopers.
We then fought the bison to a Mexican standoff (re: we kicked their furry little mallow-stealin' asses) with only our bare hands, and some sizeable branches we retrieved after Kristin punched through a tree. The bison scurried off, and we toasted our success with s'mores, and/or cake.
But the celebration was short lived, as the rain rolled back in. We grabbed all the essentials and retreated (in a guns blazing, very non-French fashion) back into our tent. It poured pretty steadily for the next few hours, and soaked through while we were trying to sleep, so that we were still getting a little damp.
Fortunately, by the time we awoke, it was STILL RAINING, so we stayed in the tent to wait it out. When it appeared the storm had more patience than either of us, we once again gathered our respective important shit and hopped in the vehicle to head home. We didn't get to do round two of the hiking, which was disappointing. But we did plenty the first day, and rumors have already surfaced as to continuing the Devil's Lake excursion for my birthday in October, a storied tradition established back in 2005.
Sunday was still pretty awesome. A little Firefly, a little cake, lunch with friends at a needlessly busy restaurant, a return visit from the esteemed Mr. McNamara. Then KH and I fired up the grill once more, this time in prime sniping position from the roof of her apartment, a previously unknown and seriously kickass location overlooking Lake Monona. More brats, more cake, more fantastic company. Then more friends, watching poker, messing with the good folks at Milios, a trip to Cold Stone, a trip back where certain people began to shout loudly and publicly a description of fellatio at the naive urging of the rest of us. Then, long goodbyes, and a longer drive back to O-town, where the real world awaits.
Summer, summer, summertime.....
In the clouds.
We decided to go camping, so we gathered our sleeping bags, flashlights, bayonets, s'more ingredients, bear repellent, firewood, PBR, and tactical nuclear weapons, and piled them into the vehicle before trekking into the wilderness (re: there were multiple trees in the vicinity). The amount of supplies we took along for the one night stay was rather obscene, but not nearly as obscene as your mom's face.
Due to the massive FIB influx, all the campsites within the Devil's Lake campgrounds were booked, so we were relegated to staying all the way on the other side of the street, in a fairly decent campground called Nordic Pines. After setting up the tent, we went back into the park. The weather was a stifling 18000 degrees as we began our hike up the western bluff of Mt. Doom, but the views were spectacular as always.
Breathtaking scenery.
The lake was cool too.
On the way back down, the humidity lightened and we had a pretty decent breeze. We made our way around to the south shore to rendezvous with a chili dog and another friend who was at the park that day as well. After a brief cool down in the lake, where Kristin and I utterly failed to dazzle anyone with our lack of frisbee abilities, we chilled on the shore and took in some sun.
Then it was back up the eastern bluff. More picturesque sights, and a fair amount of rocks:
Rocks.
Also, the water was doing some sort of wicked ripple effect, as depicted here:
We decided to skip the Devil's Doorway and other surrounding attractions for the day, as we would do more hiking the next day. So we headed down across the bluff, and on that historic voyage, Cake Day was formed. Feeling good about the hiking experience and the prospect of grilled brats and cake on the horizon, we headed back.
One brief stop to WalMart later, and bad-ass chocolate truffle cake was secured:
Bad-ass!
Then back to the camp site. No sooner had the brats hit the grill than the heavens opened and began to rain on our goddamn parade. But we persevered, eating the brats inside the tent, and followed them up with the first of what would promise to be several helpings of phenomenal cake. The rain let up after awhile, and we (re: Kristin) built a fire. Through sheer pyromaniacal genius, she was able to build us an impressive display of fire, and thus began the roasting of marshmallows. The scent of 'mallow in the air inevitably attracted a stampeding horde of bison:
Interlopers.
We then fought the bison to a Mexican standoff (re: we kicked their furry little mallow-stealin' asses) with only our bare hands, and some sizeable branches we retrieved after Kristin punched through a tree. The bison scurried off, and we toasted our success with s'mores, and/or cake.
But the celebration was short lived, as the rain rolled back in. We grabbed all the essentials and retreated (in a guns blazing, very non-French fashion) back into our tent. It poured pretty steadily for the next few hours, and soaked through while we were trying to sleep, so that we were still getting a little damp.
Fortunately, by the time we awoke, it was STILL RAINING, so we stayed in the tent to wait it out. When it appeared the storm had more patience than either of us, we once again gathered our respective important shit and hopped in the vehicle to head home. We didn't get to do round two of the hiking, which was disappointing. But we did plenty the first day, and rumors have already surfaced as to continuing the Devil's Lake excursion for my birthday in October, a storied tradition established back in 2005.
Sunday was still pretty awesome. A little Firefly, a little cake, lunch with friends at a needlessly busy restaurant, a return visit from the esteemed Mr. McNamara. Then KH and I fired up the grill once more, this time in prime sniping position from the roof of her apartment, a previously unknown and seriously kickass location overlooking Lake Monona. More brats, more cake, more fantastic company. Then more friends, watching poker, messing with the good folks at Milios, a trip to Cold Stone, a trip back where certain people began to shout loudly and publicly a description of fellatio at the naive urging of the rest of us. Then, long goodbyes, and a longer drive back to O-town, where the real world awaits.
Summer, summer, summertime.....
Cake Day
Birthdays, Christmas, Halloween, Easter, Thanksgiving, Arbor Day - - all enjoyable holidays, but all come only once a year. But this weekend marked the dawning of a new holiday, one which can come at any time of year. That's right - - Cake Day. A holiday for those of us who believe the food pyramid should go eat itself, and are not afraid to tell it so by consuming massive quantities of delicious chocolate cake. All it takes is a simple declaration (a non-binding resolution, if you will) that screw everything, it's time to eat yourself some good-ass cake. Then, you and your friends/loved ones/complete strangers need only head to your local cake dealership, purchase the most ridiculously unhealthy cake you can find, and commence gluttony.
Those are the only rules. As such, Cake Day is quite flexible. It can be held concurrent with any other holiday, thereby enhancing said holiday. It can stand on its own, bringing much needed cheer to an otherwise cakeless existence. The cake does not need to be eaten in one sitting; on the contrary, spreading the consumption over time only increases the enjoyment. Thus Cake Day can easily turn into Cake Weekend, or (theoretically) Cake Week. Anything beyond that might be problemmatic, because once you reach the inevitable 500 lb mark, it will become difficult to roll yourself into an upright position and then proceed to the store for more cake. Therefore, like all good things, Cake Day should be applied in moderation, lest the desire to consume cake destroy the ability to consume more cake.
Despite the potential pitfalls, I would strongly urge you all to consider marking Cake Day on your calendars. ANYWHERE AND EVERYWHERE YOU WANT.
It's Cake Day, bitches!
Those are the only rules. As such, Cake Day is quite flexible. It can be held concurrent with any other holiday, thereby enhancing said holiday. It can stand on its own, bringing much needed cheer to an otherwise cakeless existence. The cake does not need to be eaten in one sitting; on the contrary, spreading the consumption over time only increases the enjoyment. Thus Cake Day can easily turn into Cake Weekend, or (theoretically) Cake Week. Anything beyond that might be problemmatic, because once you reach the inevitable 500 lb mark, it will become difficult to roll yourself into an upright position and then proceed to the store for more cake. Therefore, like all good things, Cake Day should be applied in moderation, lest the desire to consume cake destroy the ability to consume more cake.
Despite the potential pitfalls, I would strongly urge you all to consider marking Cake Day on your calendars. ANYWHERE AND EVERYWHERE YOU WANT.
It's Cake Day, bitches!
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Falling Apart
So I've been on a massive streak of awesomeness lately, simply put. I can't remember the last time I was this happy with my life. And yet, my health appears to be deteriorating in direct proportion to my increased happiness. Starting with the tapeworm, who has made a major reemergence during the past two months, after nearly two years of relative inactivity. At this point, that bastard is pretty much flamethrowing after every meal. The suggested solution is to eat smaller meals more often, but if the meals I eat become any smaller, there won't be any actual food being consumed. On the plus side, I could fulfill one of my major life's goals -- becoming Skeletor. On the down side, everything else. So I've got that going for me.
Then I've got some new battle wounds, mostly from playing soccer. Strictly speaking, I don't have any air quote "skill" at soccer - - I was more of a badass defender that outran people for the ball, and hit anyone I couldn't outrun. This more than made up for my lack of technical skill, as I was team captain for two years and actually made all conference one year. But now that I've started another outdoor rec league for the summer, my smashmouth style of play has backfired a bit. In my first game, I got knocked around a lot, mostly by other people getting frustrated and going after me. At any other time, this would have been fine, because I like that type of game. But this time I wasn't wearing my titanium exoskeleton for protection, and I'm pretty sure I bruised a rib pretty badly, because I've been in serious chest pain for the past 10 days. It makes it painful to sneeze or blow my nose. It even cut into my golf game, which is absolutely unacceptable.
I had another soccer game two nights ago, and thought perhaps I should try to avoid taking any hits this time. So that's what I did. But both of my quads were on the verge of cramping up the entire game, from the very first line I ran. So I sat out half of the first half just stretching, and came back in the second half, but had the same problems. They never actually locked up, thankfully, but the threat was always there. And in the past couple days, one of the muscles is still really tight and painful.
In one word, I can officially be described as "decrepit." I'm putting serious thought into getting a cane, to go along with my unintentional pimp strut. What's really embarassing is that putting on my right sock has turned into a death match lately, between my cramped up leg muscle and my bruised rib that won't allow me to lean down.
I hate to say it, but pretty soon they're gonna have to ship me off to the old ninja's home.
Then I've got some new battle wounds, mostly from playing soccer. Strictly speaking, I don't have any air quote "skill" at soccer - - I was more of a badass defender that outran people for the ball, and hit anyone I couldn't outrun. This more than made up for my lack of technical skill, as I was team captain for two years and actually made all conference one year. But now that I've started another outdoor rec league for the summer, my smashmouth style of play has backfired a bit. In my first game, I got knocked around a lot, mostly by other people getting frustrated and going after me. At any other time, this would have been fine, because I like that type of game. But this time I wasn't wearing my titanium exoskeleton for protection, and I'm pretty sure I bruised a rib pretty badly, because I've been in serious chest pain for the past 10 days. It makes it painful to sneeze or blow my nose. It even cut into my golf game, which is absolutely unacceptable.
I had another soccer game two nights ago, and thought perhaps I should try to avoid taking any hits this time. So that's what I did. But both of my quads were on the verge of cramping up the entire game, from the very first line I ran. So I sat out half of the first half just stretching, and came back in the second half, but had the same problems. They never actually locked up, thankfully, but the threat was always there. And in the past couple days, one of the muscles is still really tight and painful.
In one word, I can officially be described as "decrepit." I'm putting serious thought into getting a cane, to go along with my unintentional pimp strut. What's really embarassing is that putting on my right sock has turned into a death match lately, between my cramped up leg muscle and my bruised rib that won't allow me to lean down.
I hate to say it, but pretty soon they're gonna have to ship me off to the old ninja's home.
Monday, June 12, 2006
Big Guns
As a master of all devastatingly effective yet fictional trial tactics, I have a new one to share with you. It is a new objection, one that should be used sparingly for maximum effect, and one which should be used only when the context is completely nonsensical. Witness as follows:
---
Atty: So Mr. X, you don't actually have any first hand knowledge about this incident, do you?
Vice: Objection -- your mom's face doesn't have any first hand knowledge!
---
Now, if used at the appropriate (re: entirely inappropriate) places, this little gem will swing the court to your side with all deliberate speed. Because after all, there's nothing a judge or jury respects more than someone with enough cajones to call out your adversary's mom's face.
---
Atty: So Mr. X, you don't actually have any first hand knowledge about this incident, do you?
Vice: Objection -- your mom's face doesn't have any first hand knowledge!
---
Now, if used at the appropriate (re: entirely inappropriate) places, this little gem will swing the court to your side with all deliberate speed. Because after all, there's nothing a judge or jury respects more than someone with enough cajones to call out your adversary's mom's face.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Thus Spake the Deville
Apparently hardcore devil-worshippers just aren't what they used to be. On a local news story last night, they had footage of some satanists who had vandalized someone's property, including painting the side of their shed with demonic phrases.
The one that caught my attention: "Hail Satin!"
Now, forgive me, but if I choose to worship something thusly, I would generally like to find out how to spell it, to avoid embarassing myself and my fellow Satinists.
When reached for comment as to why Satin is king, one of the diehard followers proclaimed "He feels so silky smooth against my skin."
The one that caught my attention: "Hail Satin!"
Now, forgive me, but if I choose to worship something thusly, I would generally like to find out how to spell it, to avoid embarassing myself and my fellow Satinists.
When reached for comment as to why Satin is king, one of the diehard followers proclaimed "He feels so silky smooth against my skin."
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
All Up In It
Just finished the second day working for the state. So what do I do all day? Honestly, I sit around the court room all day and look fly.
So far I haven't actually said anything, mostly just intimidated people with my presence. Tomorrow I might get to conduct the bond hearings though. You know how that's going down:
Judge: "Mr Vice, what does the State recommend?" V: "Your honor, the State recommends Mr. Ramirez should go fuck himself." Or "Your honor, the State's not greedy. All I'm looking for is a cash bond, $200 G's, and when 48 hours is up, bitch betta have my money."
My primary focus for the summer will be criminal traffic cases. Doesn't sound like much, I know - - mostly OWI's and operation after revocation. But with the high volume caseload, I'm pretty much guaranteed to get a couple jury trials. Next week I might have a couple bench trials, depending on whether or not the people settle beforehand (or show up).
It's been really cool so far. At least half of what I'll be doing is getting out an interacting with people, whether its doing initial appearances or bail hearings or possibly a couple trials. I get to see how the law affects real people, and I like that. I imagine it will get pretty tedious as I start to see the same things over and over, but for now I like it.
I just wish I could transport this thing to Madison. Not only could I be around my friends, but then my criminal traffic cases would lean more toward drive-bys, which I'm much more familiar with.
So far I haven't actually said anything, mostly just intimidated people with my presence. Tomorrow I might get to conduct the bond hearings though. You know how that's going down:
Judge: "Mr Vice, what does the State recommend?" V: "Your honor, the State recommends Mr. Ramirez should go fuck himself." Or "Your honor, the State's not greedy. All I'm looking for is a cash bond, $200 G's, and when 48 hours is up, bitch betta have my money."
My primary focus for the summer will be criminal traffic cases. Doesn't sound like much, I know - - mostly OWI's and operation after revocation. But with the high volume caseload, I'm pretty much guaranteed to get a couple jury trials. Next week I might have a couple bench trials, depending on whether or not the people settle beforehand (or show up).
It's been really cool so far. At least half of what I'll be doing is getting out an interacting with people, whether its doing initial appearances or bail hearings or possibly a couple trials. I get to see how the law affects real people, and I like that. I imagine it will get pretty tedious as I start to see the same things over and over, but for now I like it.
I just wish I could transport this thing to Madison. Not only could I be around my friends, but then my criminal traffic cases would lean more toward drive-bys, which I'm much more familiar with.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Home
I've been back in Oshkosh for roughly 30 hours now. It’s pretty, and familiar, and comforting, and somehow horribly wrong.
If I knew I didn’t have to stay, I’d really be enjoying this.
I just don’t want to be here.
I want to go home.
If I knew I didn’t have to stay, I’d really be enjoying this.
I just don’t want to be here.
I want to go home.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
I'm Just Here to Protect the Donuts, Ma'am
I'm not going to be prosecuting homicide cases this summer. I understand that. We're all better off that way, because I'm not sure I'd want that kind of burden this early, with the possibility where my own mistakes or inexperience could allow a murderer or rapist to go free. (Of course, even if they did, I would hunt them down afterward and administer some street justice. But still, I do that anonymously, and it doesn't help my legal reputation).
However, there is a good possibility I will be prosecuting ridiculous cases this summer. For instance, today in our final Trial Advocacy class there was a case where a college guy went into a store, took some donuts, and ate them without paying. Then he tried to escape the store, and when the police were called, he resisted arrest. So, today we were practicing opening and closing arguments. The first guy got up and gave a short but pseudo-heartfelt and tearful plea to prosecute this terrible man who went in and ate $2.59 worth of bakery. Straight-up fucking hilarious. The next guy was a little more serious, but he did come up with a classic line about the store: "They were just trying to protect their donuts." Whether he was trying to be serious or not, this had everyone laughing.
Kempinen assured us that these cases are somewhat rare, but they do happen. So now I'm imagining myself in this role for the summer. I'm the guy that lays down the law on the bizarre and trivial. So if you're thinking about rolling through Winnebago County this summer and taking a magic marker and doodling on all the bananas, or hunting squirrels with Nerf guns, or assaulting an officer with a tube of chapstick, I'm all over your ass.
However, there is a good possibility I will be prosecuting ridiculous cases this summer. For instance, today in our final Trial Advocacy class there was a case where a college guy went into a store, took some donuts, and ate them without paying. Then he tried to escape the store, and when the police were called, he resisted arrest. So, today we were practicing opening and closing arguments. The first guy got up and gave a short but pseudo-heartfelt and tearful plea to prosecute this terrible man who went in and ate $2.59 worth of bakery. Straight-up fucking hilarious. The next guy was a little more serious, but he did come up with a classic line about the store: "They were just trying to protect their donuts." Whether he was trying to be serious or not, this had everyone laughing.
Kempinen assured us that these cases are somewhat rare, but they do happen. So now I'm imagining myself in this role for the summer. I'm the guy that lays down the law on the bizarre and trivial. So if you're thinking about rolling through Winnebago County this summer and taking a magic marker and doodling on all the bananas, or hunting squirrels with Nerf guns, or assaulting an officer with a tube of chapstick, I'm all over your ass.
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