« October 2007 | Main | December 2007 »
November 30, 2007
The disturbing fact I learned about myself today
I find cite checking to be a relaxing break from the more thought-intensive things I do for school.
Posted by rj3 at 12:09 PM | Comments (387) | TrackBack
Explain yourself!
This morning, for no particular reason, I was thinking of my sophomore year roommate. He was a nice guy, a little too into Phish, but generally reliable and considerate. As is standard protocol in the new century, I looked him up on Facebook. He was nowhere to be found. Such a result wouldn't have raised my eyebrows two or three years ago, but social networking is no longer the wave of the future, it's the default way for people my age to find old friends.
Why wouldn't my old roommate be on Facebook, Myspace or Friendster? I had some ideas:
- He became Amish
- He got married and dumped all of his friends
- He's following a jam band around the country in a beat-up van (but that's not a bulletproof excuse)
- He's in the Witness Protection Program
- He is on Facebook, but he changed his name to "Moonflower Starchild"
- He's on a secret CIA mission
- He's been in jail since 2004
- He's at an Al Qaeda training camp in Pakistan with unreliable DSL
Please old friends, make my life easier and reveal yourselves. You never know when having a lawyer friend might come in handy.
Posted by rj3 at 10:42 AM | Comments (367) | TrackBack
November 29, 2007
Rudy can't fail, try as he might
Really, he can't. Why on earth is his campaign not torpedoed by revelations that he used NYPD resources to shuttle him out to the Hamptons to cavort with his then-mistress Judy Nathan as his wife and kids tapped their fingers on the kitchen table back in the city? You would think that one of the Republican candidates, especially the desperate ones, would try to make hay out of this. I'm sure that some of them have happy, stable marriages and no mistresses hiding in the closet.
Posted by rj3 at 5:57 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
November 27, 2007
End-of-Semester Whine Mad-Lib
Oh. My. God. I have (number) finals and (number) papers, Thanksgiving is over and I pissed away the whole weekend (gerund) in (place). My (law school subject) professor is a huge hardass and gives the hardest tests. Plus (gendered pronoun) doesn't even post old exams online!
I thought this semester would be easy!
That in itself would have been bad enough, but I also have work for (journal). I'll be spending the next week (eyeballing/writing my comment/source & citing/crying in a corner), so my classes will have to wait. Plus, I have clinic, which is (euphemism for a violent act perpetrated on a first person pronoun).
All of a sudden it got so cold in (town where your law school is located) and the sun sets before classes end and I can go outside. I think I'm coming down with (disease/disorder), but I'm too busy to see my (doctor/shrink/shaman). Certainly getting (small number) hours of sleep each night and surviving on (unhealthy convenience food) doesn't help.
Don't even get me started on (significant other or the fact that I'm single). Now that I'm so busy, I can't get a break. Do you know how long it's been since I got (sexual act)?
Posted by rj3 at 2:46 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
November 24, 2007
Suffer for Fashion
This afternoon, I walked into a fancy denim boutique in the East Village out of curiosity. Browsing the men's selection (which, as always, is about a fifth as large as the women's), the woman behind the counter came up to me to make a sale.
"Those jeans you're looking at are really great," she said. "They're a lot like the ones you're wearing now, but a little more tailored."
Their jeans: $218.
My jeans: $30, at Old Navy, two years old.
If I were like a lot of people on the streets today dropping Euros or Pounds, it would almost be worth it.
Posted by rj3 at 2:59 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
November 22, 2007
Three weeks into the Christmas season, the Thrown For A Loop team wishes a happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.
This isn't the holiday when you hide the afikomen, George.
Posted by rj3 at 10:29 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
November 20, 2007
I've wanted one of these for years
This would have come in handy on so many occasions. The funny thing is that people in Chicago seem to have less of a problem with this than do East Coasters.
Posted by rj3 at 4:51 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
Sunny day...
Virginia Heffernan writes up the new DVDs of old school Sesame Street:
The so-called inner city became anywhere that “Sesame Street” played, because the Children’s Television Workshop declared the inner city not a grim sociological reality but a full-color fantasy — an eccentric scene, framed by a box and far removed from real farmland and city streets alike.The concept of the “inner city” — or “slums,” as The Times bluntly put it in its first review of “Sesame Street” — was therefore transformed into a kind of Xanadu on the show: a bright, no-clouds, clear-air place where people bopped around with monsters and didn’t worry too much about money, cleanliness or projecting false cheer. The Upper West Side, hardly a burned-out ghetto, was said to be the model.
This is so true as to be embarrassing for me. As an East Side kid, I was pretty sure that Sesame Street was a real place on the Upper West Side. Even after I came to grips with the fact that most of the characters were not real, I still thought that all the action took place on some quiet block off of Amsterdam Avenue.
Posted by rj3 at 3:44 PM | Comments (352) | TrackBack
November 19, 2007
What kind of 3L are you?
We won't be together much longer, so let's take a look at our classmates. Oh my, how we have changed since first entering these hallowed halls in the Fall of 2005! Here's a brief summary of what my class has become.
The Clerkmonster: You may hear their voices ringing in the halls or (more likely) in the journal office. "When I go to ____ for my clerkship, I'm going to need a car," they say. "When I start clerking, I'm going to need a new alarm clock. I hope the other clerks at the courthouse where I'm clerking are fun. My girlfriend doesn't like the town where one of my clerkship offers is located, so I'm going to take the other one. Oh, you're not clerking? It's not for everybody. Clerk clerk clerkety clerky clerk clerk."
This clearly doesn't apply to everyone working for a judge next year, so don't get offended, dear clerking readers. A rule of thumb: if you don't know someone well enough to know generally where they live but you know they're clerking, they're probably a Clerkmonster.
The Exile: Remember that guy in your section first semester who sat next to you? How about that girl who was always dancing at bar review? They never come to class anymore and can't be found at social events.
For all you know, Exiles could be following their favorite CFL team across the frozen north or working on a doomsday machine in their basement. Nobody understands how they survive when finals come around, but they always return semester after semester. For a few minutes, at least.
The Glider: Law school is a professional school, designed to churn out lawyers, with a few profs and judges as a welcome byproduct to the main educational mission. Therefore, a lot of 3Ls don't see the point of working too hard when the $160,000 job is firmly secured. Gliders go to class when they feel like it and read even less. In the process of disentangling from the law school fever swamp, they stop going to bar review regularly and no longer chase the free pizza because it usually comes with an hour of listening to someone talk in a classroom. The sweet taste of freedom is sustenance enough.
The Permanent 1L: The makers of blood pressure medications lick their lips when they see these 3Ls running around campus, jumbled Westlaw printouts and casebooks in hand. Obviously, law school is easier for some than for others, but if you can't fall into a manageable routine after two years, there's no way you will do well in the working world. Clerkmonsters are excepted (because they're likely doing too much journal work, which is different) as are Clinic Victims (because they too have taken on extra responsibility). It's just the folks with regular courseloads and no ability to make it look easy.
The Wedding Planner: It's not going to be easy to snag a mate and bill 2,400 hours at the same time. Even if you have a special someone, doing doc review on your honeymoon is a ticket straight to the doghouse. That's why more than a few 3Ls are "lockin' 'em down" before the bar exam.
Some of us are single and a little apprehensive about dating prospects when biglaw gets the keys to our souls, so listening to stories about dress fittings, arguments with photographers and choosing between a church and a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean are enough to make us retch.
I know it's not their fault, but if I hear another debate about whether the invitations should be ecru or cream, I'm going to buy a gravy boat from the registry and use it as a blunt object to cause severe bodily harm.
The Clinic Victim: These folks thought they would use their final year as a law student to do something good for society, but they ended up as oppressed as the people they represent. Every year, 3Ls complain that clinic is much more intense than they thought, yet every year, a new class has to learn this for themselves. If your friend is more likely to visit a jail than go to bar review, they're probably a Clinic Victim. Apply generous amounts of sympathy with a small dose of "I told you so" on the side.
Posted by rj3 at 9:08 AM | Comments (358) | TrackBack
November 15, 2007
Limitless paper for a paperless world
I've been at this for almost two and a half years now, and I came to a realization just today: who uses "legal" size paper anymore? I can't remember the last time I encountered the ol' 8 1/2x14 at school, and I only saw it at work in old leases.
If a notoriously tradition-bound profession like the law can get rid of a bizarre and annoying standard from everyone else's, surely the most dynamic country on earth could adopt the metric system.
Posted by rj3 at 2:27 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
November 14, 2007
King of the one liners
Not being allowed to refer to Marion Barry as a "crack addict" is like not being allowed to refer to the period of time between 6am and 10am as "the morning."
Posted by rj3 at 3:06 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
November 13, 2007
Ten Second Music Reviews
Future of the Left, Curses: The former lead singer of the late lamented Welsh punk outfit McClusky gets a little anthemic while still holding on to his obnoxious hard-rocking core.
Grinderman, Grinderman: I don't like Nick Cave, but the slow burn of this lo-fi side project makes this the perfect album to plan revenge to. But I would never do that.
The Rakes, Ten New Messages: Blur, Oasis, Menswear, Erasure, Supergrass, Pulp, now these guys. You know you like britpop, so here's another serving from the same recipe you've loved for 15 years (now with the occasional topical song!).
Jay-Z, American Gangster: Unintelligible grunting from the Dirty South has ruined hip-hop for too long. Now, Hova is perhaps the only rap artist whose album I would still buy. "The way I shine is like a zillion dollar light bill." Indeed.
Blonde Redhead, 23: Another one of those albums that I wish I had the attention span to truly enjoy.
Posted by rj3 at 2:39 PM | Comments (374) | TrackBack
November 12, 2007
"I pick the building that I want to live in"
It had to happen eventually: David Byrne goes to Ikea:
My sister had the idea that we would take my parents to IKEA to look at possible replacements for their kitchen cabinets, counters, sinks and storage. I loved the idea of a trip to IKEA since I’d never been there ever. And as it was to be a look-see and not a buying trip, the pressure would be low. I was looking forward to the famous Swedish meatballs for lunch too.IKEA is huge. We went up to the second floor where the shelves, sofas, tables and lamps are all arrayed into tasteful little room settings — rooms, but with mysterious tags hanging everywhere. Immediately I thought it was like entering a videogame world. Who lives here? What do they do? Why is that book on the table? Is that significant? Could it be some kind of clue to the occupant’s identity?
If I had the time, energy, filming rights and equipment, I could make a pretty darn good movie version of More Songs About Buildings and Food entirely within an Ikea. On the one hand, early Talking Heads songs like "Life During Wartime" and "No Compassion" are collected scraps of paranoid thought - protagonists are generally alone in a dangerous world, yet they defensively push away anyone who wants in. On the other hand, "Don't Worry About the Government" (quoted above) and "Found a Job," are comical in their sanguine tone. As if jacked up on happy pills in some sort of otherwise hopeless future, these songs reveal the voice of someone who has entirely given up all of his concerns about "what's real" for the manufactured comforts of real estate (as in "Don't Worry...") or TV (in "Found a Job").
Although I love Ikea for its wonderful meatballs and cheap stuff that holds up longer than one might imagine, it reeks of the controlled, contrived smiley face of the feelings-free dystopian future.
In most movies that take place in the future, one wonders what happens to antiques. These days, most folks have at least piece of furniture (if not more) that was made before they were born. They have crags, imperfections and marks from years of use, just like real people. Sometimes, old furniture has been painted and varnished so many times that it looks completely different from the way it looked when it was purchased. Just like the brainwashed people who populate these imagined futures, the aesthetic is similarly blank.
Ikea offers us a gigantic space with pleasing bright colors, clean lines and photos of happy customers, Scandinavian and otherwise. Ikea is what many Americans think of when the conversation turns to things Swedish. The bright basic colors replace the cold and darkness that blankets the country for much of the year.
Then again, I don't think the world needs a furniture and housewares store that reminds customers of the frustration of daily life and the inability of man to be simultaneously aware of the world around him and yet internally calm.
Posted by rj3 at 6:52 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Still going strong
Last week marked the five-month anniversary of my little experiment in self-denial and bitterness. Hooray!
Looking forward, I have less than two months in order to meet my "goal" - ye of little faith (see the comments on this post) have been proven utterly wrong. At this rate, I may make it all year!
Posted by rj3 at 10:27 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
November 11, 2007
The migratory habits of the wolverine
You know, they do have "blue" cheese to use with this cheese plate.
Sometimes, it's hard for my Northeastern Liberal Intellectual Elite friends how huge college football is here out in the Midwest. Here's an illustrative story:
I left the house at 10:30. Michigan took on Wisconsin at 11. At the bus stop, a dozen Michiganders were engaged in lively conversation. The beer breath was in full effect ten feet away. Next stop, an ATM. The line was four people long - a longer line than I can recall for any ATM outside a concert venue or sports stadium. Cash in hand, I went to a coffee shop. There, another long line of folks dressed in maize and blue waited for what could perhaps be the only non-alcoholic beverage they will have all day. Don't non-fans go to coffee shops midmorning on Saturday? Driving down Broadway was a nighmare, with cabs stopping traffic every few hundred feet to disgorge Badger and Wolverine fans to the bars for some early morning pigskin and pigging out.
And yes, I've got into it a bit myself. My team? The Kansas Jayhawks (and to a lesser extent, Penn State). They're undefeated, yet every commentator on TV attaches a raft of caveats to their amazing success. If they beat Missouri, they deserve a spot in the BCS Championship, period. Take that, Northeastern Liberal Intellectual Elites!
Posted by rj3 at 1:57 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
November 9, 2007
Scullduggery, sex and shredders
Check out Dana Milbank's tour of Washington scandal in today's WaPo.
Posted by rj3 at 2:32 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
Maybe this is missing the point
Have you noticed that the protesting lawyers in Pakistan all wear the exact same tie? Is it some sort of solidarity thing? Is it just part of the uniform, like wigs on English barristers?
Posted by rj3 at 10:57 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
November 8, 2007
Top of the pops - a rant
This morning, I was happy to see that Intelligentsia coffee started carrying Mexican Coca-Cola. A lot of people who have been to Mexico elsewhere have commented that Coke tastes better outside the US, but many don't know why. Many people have heard my didactic rant on the topic, but some of you out in the Internets haven't been subjected to it, so here goes:
Mexican Coke tastes better because it is made with cane sugar. US Coke is made with high-fructose corn syrup, which besides not tasting as good as sugar, is worse for you. We use HFCS because it's cheaper. It shouldn't be cheaper (and isn't in Mexico) because we protect domestic sugar producers with a 54-cent tariff and subsidize corn production. Those subsidies are a direct economic attack on third-world farmers whose products are uncompetitive in our market because we dump money in their competitor's laps in ever-increasing amounts.
We don't even need to subsidize corn production because corn is selling at high prices because of demand for ethanol. Ethanol is driving up corn prices because some state governments mandate a percentage of ethanol in gasoline and the price of gasoline has risen to such an extent that it makes economic sense (with the help of the subsidy of course).
If the amount of money we're wasting on ethanol isn't bad enough, we're selling farmers water for irrigating corn in places where it really ought not grow without the cheap water. During a drought, cities make a big show of conservation by banning the watering of lawns, but most of our water is used by agriculture, including the overproduction of corn to make ethanol and corn for our worse-tasting Coke. If we ever made enough ethanol from corn to make a dent in oil imports, the entire Midwest would be a desert in our lifetimes.
And if that wasn't enough, there's a low-labor-cost nation 90 miles away from our shores that makes lots of sugar and could make more with foreign investment. The trouble is that the country is Cuba and our policy of waiting for Castro to die before engaging our neighbor is sacrosanct in certain swing-state circles, if you catch my drift.
Is there anything more messed up about government than the way they wasted billions of dollars, kept millions of third-world farmers in poverty, depleted our natural resources, ruined our Coke and made us less healthy?
Oh right, the Iraq thing.
Posted by rj3 at 12:19 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
November 7, 2007
My final foray into gimmick pizza
Last Sunday was one of those days you write off upon waking up. I went to bed at 3 the previous night and woke up at noon only because of the time change. The day, foreshortened as it was, consisted of eating and watching football (Packers, then Pats, then Eagles).
At some point after sunset, me and my fellow sloths saw an ad for Domino's Crispy Melt Pizza. If you can recall the moment in Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle when the titular buddies see the ad for White Castle that sets them off on their madcap journey through the Garden State, it was like that.
Crispy!
Melty!
Cheesy on the top and in the middle!
Look at it! As the pizza server lifts out a slice, the cheese sticks to the adjoining slice for four or five whole inches!
They deliver!
Within minutes, someone was on the phone ordering two. A pizza innovation like this comes perhaps once in a lifetime. Momentarily, my severe pizza snobbery abated in a fit of groupthink and hunger.
Forty-five minutes later (and no, it wasn't free) the pizza arrived. The cheese on the top was burnt to a crisp. How could you expect it to behave otherwise without tomato sauce to keep it moist? The inside had hardly any cheese. Eating a slice was a battle, because the crust/sauce/cheese/crust/cheese combo wouldn't hold together and slithered around on one another like a kid on a slip-'n-slide.
The verdict from the assembled crowd: a quesadilla would be far superior, as would nearly any other kind of pizza. American pizza as we know it has been perfected over a century to have the correct amounts of moisture, crunch and structural stability. Mess with it at your peril.
Posted by rj3 at 10:18 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
November 5, 2007
Doomsday, part 2
After a brief scare in September, the CTA again told riders that it would have to cut a slew of bus routes and raise fares if the state didn't fund a bailout. The second doomsday, as it was called, was supposed to be Sunday. Since I was too lazy to leave my neighborhood on Sunday and I don't generally the read local papers, I stumbled out of my apartment this morning and dashed on what I thought was my only bus option. To confirm my fears, the bus was packed and took close to 40 minutes for a trip that takes 10 on the line I thought was canceled. But when I checked upon my arrival at school, I found that doomsday has once again been averted.
They say that when you assume, you make an "ass" out of "U" and "me." Really, it's just me.
Posted by rj3 at 11:46 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
November 1, 2007
Did you know
...that the coffee break had to be invented in 1952 as part of a marketing campaign? It seems one of those things that is too obvious to have to be invented.
Posted by rj3 at 9:47 PM | Comments (371) | TrackBack
Now that is good contract drafting
So I'm watching the Virginia Tech-Georgia Tech game tonight, and I immediately noticed something was off with the VT uniforms. Some players were wearing Yellowjackets' away uniforms with the names written in Sharpie on the back. Apparently, the visiting Hokies didn't bring enough uniforms, so they had to borrow some from the home team. Since VT has an endorsement contract with Nike, they had to fullfill it by drawing in the swoosh as well. Kudos to the Nike lawyers for thinking of everything. This is why I'll never be a corporate lawyer.
I bet there were a lot of unused Michael Vick jerseys floating around Georgia they could have used...
Posted by rj3 at 7:15 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack