Tuesday, October 31, 2006

One Angry Dwarf

Yesterday, my wife and I were going to eat at Chik-Fil-A in the mall, and I ran into a guy who used to pick on me in junior high . . . working behind the counter. Granted, I was the kid who buttoned his (Texas Rangers) polo shirts up to the neck and who wore glasses thicker than his ears. Granted further that he is now a "team leader." Granted finally that I, too, have worked in fast food and believe that every citizen of the United States of America should work at least six months in fast food. Still, it was sweet justice. At least, the potentiality of sweet justice.

Did I ever tell you about the time that I read about another guy who used to pick on me who got arrested for meth? Q.E.D.

Extra points for anybody who can guess where the post title comes from.

Peeking Out

Hi. This is me poking my head out from my hiding place on the 13th floor of the Alico Building. I'm just making sure that while I've been studying for (and taking) exams, the world has continued turning. Good to see it is.

"As they're doing the atomic bomb, do they know where the dance comes from?"

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

World Series #0

So I've been reading Justin's countdown of the top World Series and Stepbaker's addition to it, and I noticed that they forgot the most influential World Series of our lifetimes. This particular World Series defined me as a sports fan and continues to impact my views on many, many things.

It all began on August 12, 1994. That night, Baseball Tonight showed a clip saying that John Kruk would be missing out on $13,000+ per game he didn't play. I sat with my fingers crossed over the next six weeks hoping against hope that somehow the players and the owners would get together and figure it out. I watched as people debated the future of Cal's consecutive-game streak. As a Rangers fan, I hoped and hoped and hoped that the season would get pulled together in time for the Rangers to win it all. You may remember that as the year the Rangers topped the AL West at ten games under .500. Then, sometime in mid-September, nobody called anybody's bluff, and the season was over.

The strike lasted until April 2, 1995. The 1995 season lost 18 games.

Baseball--you had me at hello, and then you sold me out because $13,000 per game wasn't enough. Within the next couple of years, all my interest in all sports (football, basketball, hockey, soccer) faded as I realized that nobody was any different. Now, I don't watch sports at all, except to check my alma maters' scores. Occasionally, I'll look up an old classmate of mine who plays for the Pirates, but it's not the same.

The World Series of 1994 - The Rangers declared winners by default.

Saturday, October 21, 2006

We'll find bodies you didn't know you hid

Apparently, Professor Osler has powers beyond comprehension. A few days ago, he asked his student readers to whine with purpose on his blog and received, as of this morning, 70 comments. One of the earlier comments was by a 1L who said that s/he was scared to death of Practice Court and that it'd be great if somehow we could keep the fear to a minimum before we actually get there. Here's where Osler's powers (as a former federal prosecutor?) come in: he takes a seemingly solutionless problem and gnaws at it like a squirrel with an acorn. Consider:

Prof. P.C. spent some time slummin yesterday in the student lounge. I talked to him for a few minutes and (not knowing) asked what he taught. As nonchalantly as an elementary school teacher saying "third grade," he said "Practice Court." Like it was nothing. Like it was just another class you take in law school. Like it wasn't the class that separates the Marine Corps of Law Schools from those pretend law schools up and down I-35. We continued to talk about how his kids go to my high school and how he was doing the concession stand at last night's football game. One of the gods of Practice Court stepped down momentarily from Olympus. Maybe to examine what meat will be coming in a couple years? Anyway, my fear of P.C. has now been reduced to its minimum* because of this encounter.

*"Minimum" here should be defined broadly to include any fear shy of the fear of death, e.g., I am scared to a coma by practice court, or I am scared to blindness of practice court.-Ed.

Friday, October 20, 2006

My Third Attempt

Osler's in Alpine.
I once went to Marathon.
Beautiful night skies.

Did you see Marfa?
Crazy unknown lights out there.
I think it's Martians.

Go to Osler's blog for funnier ones.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006


You may (but don't have to) notice that I have added links over to the right. These are all the Baylor Law blogs that I read regularly. If you think I read yours regularly but haven't posted a link, then let me know, and I'll take it under advisement.

Also--if there are any that I have left out, let me know. We are making a valiant community effort at being a community, and I want to contribute to that. Légalité, société, et liberté.

Viva la democracía!

Women and the Objective Theory of Intent

A friend of mine, whom we will call "Milwaukee" to protect the innocent, read my last post and said "Mr. Masten, I'm glad you have time to read for fun." I believe you have time for what you want to have time for. If anybody ever tells you, "Man, I'd really like to do ______, but I just don't have time." Don't believe them. They are lying through their teeth. They don't want to do it. Ask any pastor, and he will confirm for you.

On the other hand, if you ask a girl out, and she says "I really don't have time for a boyfriend right now," she's not telling you that she doesn't want a boyfriend. She's saying she doesn't want you as her boyfriend. Like on When Harry Met Sally, when Meg Ryan finally dumps her boyfriend because he won't marry her. Two months later, he's married to somebody else. Exactly. Q.E.D.

This is what we call the objective theory of intent. Barnett, Contracts: Cases and Doctrine, 3e, 2003 273ff. You can buy it now for only $10.00. The woman's internal thoughts and feelings (like you could ever figure those out) are completely unimportant; the only important thing is what a reasonable person would think based on her conduct (like you could ever figure that out, either).

Oh and for my fellow KVAs--I have now been sober for one class period.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Not Firestarter

I just finished Stephen King's first novel, Carrie. I was so confused because I had conflated Carrie and King's other book, Firestarter. I don't know why I did, but I did. So when Carrie didn't burn the town down with her mind, I was pretty confused.

OK so my confusion is boring. What did I think about the book? I thought it was excellent for a first novel. Authors tend to get known for one aspect or another of their books, and I thought that King was known for being scary. This book wasn't scary. Not even in the "maybe that used to scare people" kind of way. It just wasn't scary. It's about a reject girl with telekinesis who finally gets picked on too much. The moral? Don't pick on the fundamentalist fat girl or else she might blow your whole dadgum town up. There's a freaky-ish scene where she's walking down the street with a knife sticking out of her shoulder, but that's about it.

But let me say that King did beat out my favorite author in one respect. Tim O'Brien's In the Lake of the Woods is an incredible novel that alternates between telling the story in the present and presenting the story from the future through evidence, interviews, documentaries, etc. King does the same thing in Carrie, but I'm sad to say, he does it better and more interestingly.

In short, if you're looking for a scary book, look elsewhere. If you're looking for a well-written, interesting book about telekinesis, this may be for you. Or if you like stories set in small towns in Maine, this story is for you.

Saturday, October 14, 2006

Prof K's Dog

I don't really know the story of Pavlov's dog, but I understand that he trained his dogs to eat food whenever they heard a bell, regardless of whether they were hungry. I, ma'am, am Prof. K's dog.

I discovered it yesterday. I volunteered at least three times this week to discuss cases. (Or was it just twice? It all fades together. Three is more impressive. Maybe I really volunteered seventeen times . . .) My bell is Prof K saying "Any volunteers for ______?" Bam. My arm extends before I can think "Do I even really know anything about this case?" I think I have a problem. Maybe I should start attending CVA (KVA?).*

Didn't Pavlov end up killing his dog?

*Ed. note - As far as I know, there are no contracts volunteers anonymous groups meeting at this time. If anyone knows of any, please advise.

I'm Comin' Out

In light of Osler's Recipe for Blogging Disaster, I have decided to come out of the blogging closet.

Friday, October 13, 2006

Haiku Friday at B(L)S

"I Refuse to Believe for One Second--"

What? Two weeks to go?
I only just started yest--
Oh. Nine weeks ago.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Judicial Poetry

You thought it was limited to Ollie Holmes and Benji Cardozo, but I am here to bring you the worldwide debut of the sardonic poetry of Judge Alex Kozinski of the Ninth Circuit:
While we have our doubts about the wisdom of Pacific Gas, we have no difficulty understanding its meaning, even without extrinsic evidence to guide us.

Bam. Or, in Latin, Q.E.D. If you don't get it, go read Trident Center v. Connecticut General Life Insurance Co., 847 F.2d 564 (C.A.9, 1988).*

* I tried to get a link for Trident Center, but I couldn't find it. Good luck.

Friday, October 06, 2006

Haiku Friday at B(L)S

Ninety-four degrees
Is that all? It feels so hot.
Eat muddy buddies.

One more reason to vote for Chet

No talk today.  Just this.

powered by performancing firefox