August is for Moving

If statcounter is to be believed, there are some patient folks who continue to visit us here at Intermeddler. We've done little to reward that patience over the past couple of months, but that's only because we've been saving out energy for our latest collaborative effort. If you all don't mind moving your bookmarks just this once, we'll try not to not make you do it again.

Please visit now: Oh, Bitter Dicta.

Thank you.

This is Summer

There really is just nothing to talk about in the summer. I've noticed that people keep on coming back, and that's great. I wish we had something to offer you.

Ummm, let's see... I saw L'il Kim get a one year sentence for perjury.

That new lawyer reality show will probably give rise to a lot of op-ed pieces.

Go OCI?

Sorry.

Kelo

There's not anyone in the world who's not blogging about this opinion right now. Even sites that might normally dedicate themselves to delightful pornography are instead chattering about the Court's decicion, so I'll be brief myself:

You know the majority is way off base when Justice Thomas has to take up the good fight on behalf of the powerless. In short? The Court simply screwed up.

[sic]

I'm learning that of all the appellate tricks in the attorney attache-bag, the favorite seems to be dropping the [sic] bomb. The idea is to scour the opposing counsel's brief, find every typo you possibly can (and you'd be amazed at how many seriously bad typos you'll find in briefs, it makes this blog look like it's edited by the folks at The New York Review of Books) and then find ways to incorporate those typos into your filings in opposition.

For example, if you find a line that says "has exhausted hi claims" in a habeas petition, then you write in response "petitioner claims that he has exhausted hi claims" [sic]. Those three letters really say a lot, because as everyone knows "sic" is latin for "opposing counsel is an illiterate jackass." At least, that's the impression I feel the quoter is trying to convey when I read this stuff. I don't have any empirical evidence on this yet, but I have a feeling that putting a typo in a sentence triples that sentence's chances of being quoted. That's just fcuked up.

It Is So Hot

It seems like all kinds of great material should be coming out of summer work, but I don't really know what kind of things you're allowed to say. I do know that the assignments don't feel that much more real than anything we did in legal writing. I have to constantly remind myself that there are real parties with real interests who'd prefer I don't take the write-whatever's-easiest approach that saw me through my first year.

In a moment of regression a couple of days ago, I headed up to the city bar association to watch a panel entitled "The Role of the Federal Courts in the War on Terrorism." It was co-sponsored by the federalist society, so I knew there'd be some serious legal action going down. It always amazes me to watch a forty-two year old lawyer (who has never worked outside the beltway in his life) presume to explain to a retired rear admiral and life-time jag officer how military law works. Before you can recover from the shock, he's gone on to explain to a 2d Circuit Appellate Court Judge what the Padilla case was really all about; ignoring the fact that this particular judge had actually sat on the case in the intermediate court. What they lack in consistency they make up for with what I heard politely referred to as "testicular fortitude" today.

Of course, these are people who cite approvingly to Quirin and Kortematsu because "hey! they haven't been overruled yet! (knock on wood)." Two completely different worlds: I live in the world not steeped in paranoid fantasy. It's warm and humid lately, but otherwise better in every way.

That's That

I've never been so happy to have turned my back on my parent's religion as I was today. As I stumbled to school this morning with a stack of completed competition essays, I realized that I was done. Those poor Sunday sabbath observers though; they're still looking at two more days of this business (down to only 35 hours or so hours at this point, it goes fast).

That gives me an extra day to think about fall OCI. I guess they're already passing out packets listing the firms that'll be recruiting us in a few months.* I can't even think about this stuff yet. I haven't even thought about the summer job I actually have to start next week. I know I need to buy some ties or something. When I do get around to worrying about next fall, this government recruiter puts things into perspective. In the meantime, total freedom for seven days. There's something spiritual in that I think even my parents could understand.

*To the firm that is only taking law review and top 5%, fuck you too.

Intermission

I remember the first time I watched the Terminator how terrified I was at the idea that there was something out there that just wouldn't die. You shoot it, it keeps on coming. You crash a tanker filled with diesel fuel into it, it strolls out of the wreckage and flames. You crush it on some assembly line, its little red eyes flash back on. You somehow manage to spank your way though finals, and now it wants you to write-on to law review. At least that's what I thought as I sat crammed into room 401 with everyone else who wants to play writing-competition roulette this weekend.

The week away has been kind of nice. I went to the gym for the first time in a few weeks; and felt as out of place as an old hooker on her first day at her new job as an insurance claims adjustor. I am very, very weak. I looked at myself in the mirror and could see in my pale, yellowish skin and in the dried and caked soy sauce under my fingernails all the signs of someone who's lived in a dank apartment on take-out financed by selling my books back. Needless to say, I am an ugly sight and I'll spare you more details.

Anyway, there's something horror-movieish about the way school just won't die, and as I look over my summer calendar, I realize that between preparing a resume for fall's on-campus interviews and stopping by financial aid for work-study checks, there's just enough going on to keep up the suspense. But I guess that makes sense; if this is a ninety minute movie, we're only thirty minutes in. There's no way you'd kill off your villain in the first thirty minutes --we'd all want our ticket money back.

It can't be bargained with. It can't be reasoned with. It doesn't feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop, ever, until you are dead.

Addendum

I've been pretty cynical about all the gifts WestLaw has been passing me this past semester, including a clunky, brass post-it note holder that came in an enormous, padded envelope a few months back. I used to have nothing at all to put my post-it note pad in (let alone something brass) so things are looking pretty swank around the home office. I thought they were just trying to buy me off, but I'm not cynical anymore:

I received a $5.00 starbucks card in the mail yesterday courtesy of WestLaw. They've won me over. I think they respect me as a person; as an individual who likes coffee sometimes, but not that often; a person for whom $5.00 will last through finals. Thank you, WestLaw, I'm going to let my guard down now. We can finally be friends. Do you play Scrabble? Let me fix you a drink, we have a lot of catching up to do...

April is the Cruelest Month

Classes for the first year of law school ended today, and it was, to say the least, anti-climatic. The closest any of us came to signaling that we didn't have to drag ourselves over to 250 Joralemon anymore (though I've heard people will continue to haunt the library in the weeks during finals) was the swell of applause that broke out at the end of Con Law. It was strange that of all the instructors we had this year, the one we clapped for was the one most likely to be embarassed by it. But like I've said before, our man Con Law has grown on us, and it was nice to let him know that we've appreciated him. Also, everybody felt guilty for not sending off our visiting Contracts professor in better style last semester, so maybe there was a little atonement there too.

I guess it's because for most people, the semester isn't really over until the last final is handed in (on Friday the 13th for the superstitious). But for me, law school has been a suprisingly social experience. On coming here, I'd made special plans not to get to know anybody, as I figured the nightly reading would give me more of a taste of legal culture than I could stomach. Thankfully for me, it turns out that it's a impossible way to live, and that the personalities involved in the law school experience are just as enduring as the work. So I'll hunker down in my dank little apartment and crunch together some outlines and look forward to the end-of-days party (Union Bar: Park & 17th), but for now, this is the way the semester ends, not with a bang but a whimper (more shameless cribbing from Eliot).

Hopefully, everyone else's attention spans have grown as short as mine, Judging by all the thousand-yard-stares I saw in the courtyard, we're in the same boat. Torts final on Tuesday.

Religious Inspiration

Today I took a practice test for torts. I heard there were over eighty issues in the last exam, which is way more things than I know about the law. period. If I had to write every legal-leaning word or phrase I knew, I could maybe get to twenty, tops. Getting to eighty in the next two weeks is going to be a true effort. It's times like these that a man considers religion.

But not catholicism. Not with the new pope anyway. Not to disrespect anyone's religion or anything, but cardinals, you have elected one mean looking bastard as God's new representative on earth; a pontiff whose resemblance to a certain Emperor Palpatine has not gone unnoticed. It's especially offensive when you consider just how dashing the last pope really was. Sure, he was pretty conservative, but who didn't like the guy? pope mobile and all. It must be particularly disappointing for catholics in the developing world (where 70% of all catholics live) who haven't seen a church leader from a least-developed country since... well, since Jesus.

I'll keep shopping for religion, but in the meantime, I'd advise everyone to follow Menlove's advice and go rate your professors. Especially if you have good things to say about Mazzone. I like that guy more every day. Sure, he started out kind of nervous, and I don't know if he actually likes any of us (remember last semester when he told us not to worry about grades, because thanks to the curve, it's impossible to fail all of us?) but I've definitely warmed up to the guy in the past few months. I wish I could say that for everyone else who's teaching me this semester.

Rule 12(b)(6)

I'm starting my Civ Pro outline, sort of as penance for not having gone to class this semester. While doing my FRCP 12(b)(6) "motion to dismiss" section, I remembered that I had read this on someone else's blog long ago, way before I knew/cared what it meant. Without further ado:

If you’re havin’ claim problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems but 12(b)(6) ain’t one

[Verse One]
I got Cravath & Co. on the fact patrol
Foes that wanna make sure my claim is closed
Posner is sayin my pleading’s all toast
I’m from HLS stupid what kind of tacks are those?
If you drew up your prose meetin’ rule ocho
You think you gotta be more specific? No!
I’m like “check Conley; kiss my whole asshole”
If you don’t like my pleadin’ you can get turned-over
Got beef with judges if I don’t pass them show
They don’t permit my ‘mendments where ain’t undue prejudice WHOA
Them defendents all try ‘n relate back
So clients can pin my Doe for real…losers
I don’t know what you take me as
or understand the intelligence that Dean Kagan has
I’m from rags to Cambridge, Justice I ain’t dumb
I got 99 problems but 12(b)(6) ain’t one
Sue me.

[Chorus]
99 Problems but 12(b)(6) ain’t one
If you havin claim problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems but 12(b)(6) ain’t one
Sue me

[Verse Two]
The year is ‘94 and in my trunk is raw
In my rear view mirror is the motherfuckin’ law
I got two choices y’all pull over the car or
Bounce on the devil; dump due process on the floor
Now i ain’t tryin to see no litigation with jake
and 1988’s on my side i can fight the case
But I…pull over to the side of the road
And i heard “Son do you know why i’m stoppin you for?”
Cause I’m Vinnie Capasso and I got garbage to throw?
Do I look like a mind reader sir, I don’t know
Am I under arrest or should I guess some mo?
“Well you missed your last payment that malomar”
“License and registration and step out of the car”
“Are you aware of your rights? I’m sure a lot of you are”
I ain’t steppin out of shit – 14th amendment you bitch”
“Do you mind if I look round the car a little bit?”
Well you ain’t got authorization and you ain’t got no facts
And I know my rights so you don’t got due process for that
“Aren’t you sharp as a tack are you some type of lawyer or something?”
“Or some section 4 kid or somethin?”
Nah I ain’t pass the bar but I know a little bit
Enough that you won’t illegally replevin my shit
“We’ll see how smart you are when your notice comes”
I got 99 problems but 12(b)(6) ain’t one
Sue me

[Chorus X2]

[Verse Three]
Now once upon a time not too long ago
A student like myself had to hold a depo
This was not a depo like with a tape recorder
But a depo with my fist and a crowbar
I tried to 27(b) him, get him to talk
Pray for him, cause next time he ain’t gonna walk
You know the type, pointin’ to 26(b)(3)
Saying “that’s privileged bitch, you gettin’ nothing from me”
The only thing that’s gonna happen I’m gonna get ‘em on the stand
Gonna outdo what those retards in In Re Shell Oil can’t
And there I go trashin’ your privilege again
And if you don’t go complyin’ I’ll 37(d) yo ass
In-house council on the floor cryin’ again
Paralegals with they billables rackin’ them
Judge goes and tries to bring up Control Group Theory
That’s crap, but then I’d get your lower-level employee
All because these fools was harrasin’ me
Tryin’ to play this boy like he’s in section 3
But ain’t nothin sweet ’bout how i hold my Mont Blanc
I got 99 problems but this claim ain’t one
Sue me

[Chorus X3]

It kills me to think that people this creative are wasting their time in law school. From somebody at Harvard Law, and I first saw it, I think, on The Volokh Conspiracy.

One Rule to Rule Them All

There are a lot of myths in law school: I'd always heard that the east coast was so competitive that students actually ripped pages out of the digests to keep everyone else from getting the cases they needed.* One by one, they've mostly been disproved, but there's still one that has staying power: that the rule against perpetuities is one tough son of a bitch.

I know a guy who graduated from Cardozo, and when he heard that I had property this semester, cryptically said "remember me when you get to the rule against perpetuities." It's only worse now; someone asked our property professor what the reading was for next class, and he told us via e-mail to review everything, but "one thing you MUST NOT do: Don’t venture into the Rule Against Perpetuities yet!" And this is from a guy who's on the board of directors at Human Rights Watch and is an advisor on African affairs. So when he tells us to watch out, you know you're heading into the shit.

I feel like I should go do push-ups or something. The "rule" is as close to Full Metal Jacket as I'll ever get, except that at the beginning of the semester, I thought I saw some similarity between Professor Torts and Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: "Oh that's right, Private Chadha, don't make any fucking effort to raise your voice to where we all can hear. If God would have wanted you up there he would have miracled your ass up there by now, wouldn't he?"

I am in a world of shit.

*I can neither confirm nor deny, we don't use "books" to do legal research anymore; it's way too 1994

Auctioneering

There are lots of ways to raise money for a good cause, but after last Thursday night, I can't think of one more effective then an auction.

Brooklyn Law Students for the Public Interest (BLSPI) threw their annual auction last week, and it seems to have been a huge success. Maybe it was their authentic little auctioneer, maybe it was the feeling that comes from helping a good cause, maybe it was just the $5 bottomless beer and the fiscal confidence it bestows, but I'm hooked. BLSPI raised $40,280, and though I can't claim to be responsible for any part of that amount, since I was outbid on every item, it was nice trying. There's an adrenaline rush that comes from bidding $600 for a weekend in someone else's cabin when you know that you only have $70 left in your checking account.

It was shocking to see how much disposable income some of my fellw students had. Nearly $400 for cocktails and dinner with Prof CivPro? Especially when you know the poor old guy would be more than happy to take his students out for free. It's all for a good cause though. I'm addicted to the action, but I'm starting off on a budget.

Loving the Latin

There are dozens of latin phrases that I had some vague idea existed before school started. I had no idea what they meant, but I knew they were floating out there somewhere, and I knew that they were latin.

They all sounded a lot more important than they actually are. Res ipsa loquitor means "the thing speaks for itself," which in turn means that some accidents are so weird that somebody must have screwed up. Nothing like the law to obscure things under procedure and language.

Luckily, two out of the next three cases in conlaw are about sodomy laws (no latin at all). I can already hear how uncomfortable Justice Scalia is. That's how we spice things up here at 250 Joralemon.

Sweet Prizes

It's been a busy week at school for all the people who decided to participate in the trial advocacy competition starting this weekend. Among them are my co-bloggers, OE and LD, and I wish them the best of luck. But it hasn't been all lazy afternoons and post-brief bliss for those of us too self-conscious to play at being a lawyer yet.

For example, I spent the week finally amassing enough points on West Law trivia (sample question: true or false, isn't westlaw just about the greatest thing ever? really, isn't it? your pants aren't warm just because you have a computer in your lap, it's westlaw isn't it!) to buy the prize I've had my eye on since I earned my first reward program point: the Braun Flex XP II Shaving System: "7800 RPM motor, sealed and water resistant. The Clean & Charge system automatically cleans shaver so it always delivers the closest shave." Goodbye, morning razor routine. You won't be missed.

To those who don't think this is a point-effective way to spend my West Law bounty, I'd like to point out that the exchange rate for my shaver is $.015/pt vs $.010/pt for the iPod and $.014/pt for the canon digital camera. It's a great deal, and I'm not going to shave again until it reaches my door in 4-6 weeks.