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!

No Buts, Meow -- It's the Law

Forgive me, perhaps I'm feeling a little bit drunk with power right now, but goddamn! I love the law sometimes. I mean, authority figures have always ingrained this "It's the Law" mentality into our heads. First, growing up, our parents told us we couldn't do something. We ask why; their response? "Those are the rules." Occasionally we'd get something nearer the truth: "Because." Because? Because why? "Because I said so!" That's not an answer, we thought vainly to ourselves, as there was nothing we could do about it.

Same with teachers. Why can't I walk around the hallway without a hall pass? "That's the rule." Then, as we get older, the major authority -- police officers. "Why can't I drive 35 mph through here when its four lanes and there are no houses or pedestrians?" "That's the law." And now (for some of us), the ultimate authority - courts. Why is segregation permissible? "We uphold the rule of stare decisis. This is the law as it stands, and we affirm that law."

The law my ass. The older we get, the wiser we get, the more we realize - "Because I said so" is actually the truth behind the matter, in pretty much every occasion. Someone decided this is the rule. Whether there is good reason for the rule or not, virtually every decision, whether rule, law, or nonbinding resolution, is pretty much just "Because I said so."

That's the great thing about finally being the authority figure. Or at least in a position to fuck with authority figures -- i.e., a lawyer.

Here I am at work, drafting this brief charging a statute as unconstitutional again. I just printed off a rough draft, read through it, and realized -- this is absolute hogwash. I mean, no court on earth should look at this and think, "Yeah, that's an accurate statement of the law." Don't get me wrong, its well-written and relatively persuasive. I present an argument that, if you completely lose sight of the statute and its purpose, you might actually buy, if only for a moment. It's a fairly complex issue, and the brief basically follows a logical progression along the lines of "This is a well-established policy. This is an important fact. Because of the presence of this important fact, this policy should be applied to this completely unrelated statute under these circumstances, and achieve this result." Now, the policy is correct, and the facts are correct, so it's not like I'm just making shit up. But at some point, the logic train pretty much goes straight the fuck off the rails. In other words, what I'm suggesting is a pretty absurd result.

But my god, if a judge were to read this and buy my argument? Stranger things have happened. And if that happened, heaven forbid, this would be the new state of the law.

Because I said so.

How cool is that?

What is Your Position?

Good question. I'm sitting in T&E right now. No, seriously. I'm at the class.

You want proof? Um...we're talking about elephant tusks right now, if that helps. I don't know why. He's asking us the value of elephant tusks, and something to do with probate. Would I want to probate my elephant tusks? Maybe, I don't know. I've never probated an elephant tusk before, I don't know if it's worth it. Could be.

High basis. Maybe we want a high basis. Unless we've got a different client, then our interests will conflict. What? But I like high basis. If I can sell the tusk, the capital gains tax is lower than the estate tax, so I'd rather have a low basis. Or something.

And, the future tax is less onerous than the present tax. John is not picking a basis. When you do that, you are also setting the basis. It is very important to keep those two things separate.

T&E is hard, apparently.

UPDATE: Still in T&E. Some guy just sneezed the loudest sneeze in history. People are laughing. It's awesome.

UPDATE: Holy shit, I actually got called on. The one day I go. Actually, I was going to leave halfway through, when I still hadn't been called on, and only one problem remained for my section. I stayed on the off chance I'd get called on (and laziness, not wanting to move my stuff) and there it happened. Sometimes, life just works as it should.

3Lism

Number of pages assigned for reading in Sentencing this week: 280

Number of pages I read for Sentencing this week: 0

Knowing that it won't make any difference whatsoever: Priceless


For most law students, there is diligence and effort;
for 3Ls, there is coasting.

Unmitigated Crap: The Musical

Every once in awhile a particular singer or band will come along and create a song that leaves me thinking "Man, that is the worst song ever made. Ever." For awhile, I thought it was Sean Paul, whose pathetically simplistic beats and incoherent babbling flooded the airwaves with craptastic song after song. However, Mr. Paul has since been upstaged (downstaged?). Now, don't get me wrong, Sean Paul still makes terrible music. But apparently he doesn't have the chops to compete for Worst Artist in the History of the Fucking World anymore.

No, that title came down to a dogfight between Gwen Stefani and Sarah "Fergie" Ferguson. While Gwen Stefani may have been respectable back in her No Doubt days, she has since blossomed into one of pop music's premier writers of atrocious music. Who can forget "Hollaback Girl" and its rousing chorus of "This shit is bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S!" That song alone should have earned her a banishment from, well, life.

Then Fergie came along. There's been some real shit on the airwaves the past few years, most of it really bad R&B/pop, but Fergie really takes the cake, then shoves it down her hideous throat and recycles it into the next worst song you've ever heard. Remember the Black Eyed Peas? Remember how they used to be kinda fun and new, with songs like "Let's Get it Started"? Well, then "My Humps" happened, destroying every bit of credibility they ever had. Riding the wave of this smashing success, what's a girl to do, besides piss her pants on stage?

Put out a solo album, of course. Got to hand it to her, she went all out in the effort to ruin popular music as we know it. First there was "London Bridge," one of the most asinine pieces of audio defecation ever made. Then there was "Fergalicious." Now, not only was it horrible, it was also unoriginal. Not that Destiny's Child's "Bootylicious" was some musical masterpiece, but it didn't deserve this. "Fergalicious" pretty much sums up Fergie's approach to music: it's just like bad pop music, only infinitely more wretched.

But then, what is this? Has Fergie been unseated? This song I'm hearing on the radio lately - some raspy-voiced woman spelling out the word "Glamorous" to the tune of some simplistic-poppy-horseshit beat may just edge out anything else on the air right now! For a moment, I was really impressed that someone could just come and bitchslap the Duchess of Crap like that and take her crown.

Then I found out that, in fact, "Glamorous" WAS performed by Fergie.

Ah yes, I should never have doubted her, or her unparalleled ability to churn out the most offensively bad 'music' in the history of space and time. Thank you, Ms. Ferguson. Now shut the fuck up already.

For Realz

That Guy on State Street: "Hey, do you have a minute to help fight global warming?"

My response: "Not really."

What I wanted to say: "Hellz yeah! Let's make this a real fight though, know what I'm saying? I'm talking sabotage, espionage, maybe a little genocide-age. You show me your arsenal, I'll show you mine. It's past time we break a foot off in global warming's ass! You say the word, and its on! Shit's about to get real for realz, homey. I'ma cop me a rocket launcher, climb up a tree, and bust a cap in the sun's greenhouse gas-spewing grill, muthafucka!"

Sad thing is, I used to be That Guy, for one week in June, 2005. For the money, not the cause. So when I held my tongue today, it was because of whatever enemies might be lurking, not because I relate. Fuck That Guy.