Staying Power = 400 posts

F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby had a first printing of about 20,000 copies. Five months later, the publishers printed a second run of 3,000 copies. When Fitzgerald died, the publishers were still trying to sell that second run, including seven copies that sold in the first half of 1940. But now, several generations later, it is universally recognized as a masterpiece, as one of the greatest novels of the 20th century.

Contrast that with two recent, popular works of fiction. The four books of the Twilight series were the four bestselling books of 2008, according to USA Today. And the sixth Harry Potter had an original print run of 10.8 million copies, two thirds of which sold within 24 hours, according to Wikipedia. Now, I love Harry Potter, and somebody lent The Missus a copy of Twilight, so I'll give it a chance, but it just makes me wonder: what books will high school juniors be reading in 2084?

Fitz'ger-ald

Today, I went downtown, near the harbor, for an interview of sorts. I took the light rail down to Camden Yards, then walked about half a mile east on Pratt. Afterward, I walked back listening to Queen and enjoying the beautiful weather and the harbor on my left and the tall buildings on my right. I thought "Man, I love Baltimore."

You say, "Yo, J-Cheez, wassup witcho thinkin?" To which, I gladly point to an article from the Baltimore Sun:

This tagline about bringing [Miami, D.C., New York, L.A., etc.] to Baltimore almost guarantees failure [of a new restaurant]. I'm not saying the line is bad luck. It's not. But the line means the owners have a mindset that, most times, just doesn't jive here.

That's what I love about this place. "We're Baltimore, and we like it. You don't have to be from here to fit in. If you like it, we like you." It reminds me of a country song:

Everybody knows everybody
Everybody calls you "friend."
You don't need an invitation.
Kick off your shoes, come on in.
Yeah we know how to work and we know how to play,
We're from [Baltimore] and we like it that way.

Yeah, so just ignore the crime rate.

Good Bad Guys

One of my earliest memories is sitting on my best friend's back porch after dark, feeling the warm summer breeze, listening to dogs bark somewhere, and talking about how best to cross the thirty feet between his house and mine without being captured by vampires. That friend had a knack for telling you stories with the kind of dead eyes that made you wonder whether the world wasn't really like he said. He taught me that a great villain beats a great hero any day. Maybe he's why I'm fascinated by villains, and why I prefer my heroes (spoiler alert with that one) with a little bit of darkness to them. And maybe that's why I love The Wire.

That show is chock full of fascinating, deep, thrilling, terrifying villains who just might be good guys, and good guys who just might be bad guys. Well, we're pretty clear about two of my favorites: Chris Partlow ("Part---like what white people put in their hair. And low---like not high.") and his equal partner Snoop. Those two make Norman Bates, Mrs. Danvers, and Nowonmai (some of my personal favorites) look like children's bad dreams. On the episode I watched tonight, this kid tells Chris and Snoop he wants somebody out of his house. They make it happen by beating the guy to death (with bare hands) and leaving him on the street. All the commentary we get out of the other is "Damn, you didn't even get him in the house first." Then she shrugs and walks off.

Kinda reminds me of Anton Chigurh in a people-I-don't-want-to-make-mad kinda way.

Fireworks in Baltimore

For the second year in a row, I celebrated the Fourth of July in our nation's capital region. As I watched the fireworks explode, I thought about the scene in Baltimore on July 4, 1776. I don't have any idea what was going on here back then, but I have some idea what was going about 100 miles east of here. Fifty or so crazy guys, mostly lawyers, got together and voted in favor of one of the most important documents in modern history.

When you start to grasp what independence really meant back then, you start to see how stinkin crazy our political ancestors were. Imagine if Guam declared independence. Imagine if we said no. Imagine if we had to fight about it, and we sent our best troops, and they still kicked us out of town. I think that's kinda what American independence from Great Britain was like.

And two hundred thirty years later, we're still standing. We've got our problems, just like anybody else, but we have a system that tries to fix those problems. Maybe we don't always agree with those in power, but the beauty of America is that you don't die for it.

So you know. I'm just sayin. Go America.

Guacamole Salad

The world of sports has some great stories off the field/court/ice if you're willing to look for them. I was reading up on Spurs history yesterday, when I stumbled on this interesting bit.

Larry Brown, the only guy in the world who's been practicing longer than my Con Law prof, coached the Denver Nuggets for five years in the 1970s. The 1970s Nuggets were a pretty dominant team, but the Spurs had that special something. We broke their winning streaks, physically fought them, graffittied their locker rooms, pantsed them when necessary, and generally had a good ol' fashioned rivalry with the mile-high ballas. The rivalry got so intense that Coach Brown is quoted by RemembertheABA.com as saying:

I don't like anything about San Antonio, their coaching staff, their franchise or their city. The only thing I like about San Antonio is guacamole salad.

The good citizens of San Antonio responded by dumping avocados, guacamole salad, and beer on Coach Brown and his Nuggets the next time they came to town.

Ten years later, Coach Brown took over the reins of the Spurs. He spent three and a half years there, winning 153 and losing 131. Not bad. But not good enough: we fired him halfway through the 1991-92 season, after "just" a 21-17 start. Pretty unforgiving if you ask me.

Then we stuck it to him again in 2005. Larry Brown's Pistons finished the year on top of the Central Division, then clawed their way past the 76ers, Pacers, and Heat to face the Men in Black in the NBA Finals. The Finals began on the streets outside the Alamo, where the Spurs pounded the Pistons in the first two games. Everybody flew up to the Motor City, and the Pistons tied up the series before losing game five, 96-95 in overtime. Back in San Antonio for game six: the Spurs were seiged like the 1836 Texicans, and the Pistons won their fifth consecutive elimination game. But in Game Seven, Timmy gummed up the Pistons with his own version of fundamental guacamole salad. The Spurs hung their third banner in the rafters, and Larry Brown got fired.

I don't know if Larry Brown still hates the Spurs, but I think it's awesome that he might.

Listen for the Fat Lady

Yogi Berra, my dad's favorite baseball player, is credited with saying "It ain't over till the fat lady sings." That's my view on sports and why football frustrates me. I'm there till the buzzer sounds or the horsehide smacks leather for the final out. Come rain or come shine, blow out or nail-biter, I'm there till the end. The Missus hates it. But every once in a while, I get vindicated.

She admits I got vindicated at a game we went to last July.

And I got vindicated last night. Down 10-1 going into the bottom of the seventh, the Orioles kept plugging away, small-ball style. Five in the seventh, five in the eighth (only three by homer), and the Orioles pulled off the biggest comeback in franchise history, winning 11-10. Of interest to trivia hounds like me, the previous team record also came against the Pinko Bostons way back on September 2, 1956, when they overcame an 8-0 deficit after two innings to win 11-10.

That is part of why I love baseball. It doesn't matter what the score is, you've got time to make it up. Even if you're down 30-3.

Wash Your Hands Less

For your edification:

Has it ever occurred to you how astonishing the culture of Western society really is? Industrialized nations provide their citizens with unprecedented safety, health, and comfort. Average life spans increased fifty percent in the last century. Yet modern people live in abject fear. They are afraid of strangers, of disease, of crime, of the environment. They are afraid of the homes they live in, the food they eat, the technology that surrounds them. They are in a particular panic over things they can't even see--germs, chemicals, additives, pollutants. They are timid, nervous, fretful, and depressed.

Michael Crichton, State of Fear (New York: HarperCollins, 2004), 455.

Thank you, Dr. Crichton, for everything you gave us.

Tales in Avacado

As I inch closer to 400 posts and 16,000 visitors, I feel the desire to take stock in my life. Not because I think I have any good insight for you, my faithful and haphazard readers, but because I like taking stock. Maybe we can add your experience to my experience, and together we can solve all the problems of the world.

Our lives are full of significant dates. I was thinking about mine. In no particular order, these are ones that seem significant to me:

• April 2, 2001: the day I ran into The Missus during a fire drill and decided to make her The Missus
• May 21, 2004: the day I made The Missus The Missus
• March 2, 1993: the day she (not The Missus) waved me across and then ran me over
• August 12, 1994: the day John Kruk said $13,000 a game wasn't enough

I posted about August 12, 1994, two and a half years ago, so I'll try not to be redundant. Succinctly, baseball---who had me from Jesse Barfield and the 1989 Blue Jays---slapped me in the face. I beat my bullies by avoiding them, so that fall (sixth grade), I discovered comic books and really picked up a pencil for the first time. By the end of eighth grade, I knew drawing wasn't in my future, so that summer I picked up a guitar. By my junior year in high school, I knew being a rock star wasn't in my future, so I picked up a law book. (Not really. I just phrased it that way for the sake of parallelism.) I still haven't given up on that dream, but in May of 2003, I picked up Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried and really read a book for the first time. I decided I wanted to make a living telling stories. In truth, if you want to tell stories, you become a trial lawyer. It's the easiest way.

So now here I am. No ball skilz, some word skilz, mad trial skilz, and John Grisham dreams. There's only one Grisham, but maybe one day you'll see my name in raised letters on a trade paperback in Barnes & Noble. Here's hoping.

Maryland is the new Louisiana

Maryland is a disturbingly (awesomely?) common law state. You remember those crazy concepts we learned in first year where Prof. ____ said "But don't worry about it. It's a common law concept, and nobody really follows it anymore." S/he forgot to add the words "except Maryland."

Examples:

• contributory negligence and assumption of the risk as absolute bars to recovery are alive and well in the Old Line State
• the Model Penal Code and it's four mental states are frowned upon in favor of the classic triumvirate of specific intent, malice, and general intent
• Daubert and its progeny are laughed at in favor of the classic "general acceptance" test
• judges wear powdered wigs and lawyers wear formal attire in court and trill their R's

I love it.

Insightful Lawyer Joke

So three guys---a mathematician, a philosopher, and a lawyer---are in Hell when their numbers get called for furlough. They show up at the furlough board's reception desk and are told that they will be granted furlough if they can answer one easy question. The mathematician offers to go first and goes into the board's conference room. He takes a seat, and the board chair asks him, "What is 2 + 2?"

"Well," said the mathematician, "if you're confining your question to the realm of whole numbers, the answer is 4."

"Very good," replied the chairman. "Please send in the philosopher."

The philosopher sits down, and the chairman asks him the same question: "What is 2 + 2?"

"Ah yes," said the philosopher, leaning back and scratching his chin. "Assuming an objective reality exists, then 2 + 2 ought to be 4."

"Very good," replied the chairman. "Please send in the lawyer."

Like the others, the lawyer walks in to the room and takes a seat. The chairman asks the lawyer the very same question: "Counselor, what is 2 + 2?"

The lawyer looks at the chairman, then at the other members of the board. He leans forward conspiratorially. "That depends," he says, raising an eyebrow. "What do you want it to be?"

* * *

Some say the hallmark of good lawyering is the ability to argue any side to any issue. Maybe in developing that skill, we lose touch with objective reality.

That is assuming, of course, that there is one. Without any clients, I'm just not sure.

Plumbers Without Borders

For those about to plumb: I salute you.

On the train this morning, I was reading Michael Crichton's State of Fear and gazing out the windows at Lake Roland and the beautiful woods around the light rail. I was thinking about how sometimes it's hard to remember why you're doing what you're doing. It's especially hard when you're doing something either boring or unglamorous. And as we passed over some nasty creek (river?), I thought about cholera.

Cholera kills you by giving a serious case of the solid runs. Well, not quite solid. Anyway, your bowels move so much, so frequently, and so intensely that you lethally dehydrate, sometimes within four hours. The disease essentially spreads through infected water. The cycle goes something like this. I get infected. I get seriously bad diarrhea. Somehow, my infected diarrhea gets in contact with your water supply. You drink some water (or eat food washed in water). You get infected. You get seriously bad diarrhea. Et cetera ad nauseum. As you can imagine, this can be a really bad problem in the developing world.

When a pandemic strikes, we usually look to doctors to fix the problem. And they do a great job, but somebody else does enormously important preventative work. Arguably the most effective way of preventing the spread of cholera is water purification. That involves both purifying the water supply and keeping the water supply pure. Who's best at making that happen? You got it. The members of our local United Association of Plumbers and Pipefitters.

Thanks, UAll.* Keep keeping us safe from cholera and Montezuma's revenge.

*Haha, sorry. Couldn't resist.

Michael Crichton's Prey: 4/5

One of my favorite things about reading novels and watching movies is when a movie or book attacks me with some new idea I've never thought of. That's probably the main reason I enjoy reading Michael Crichton. Some people don't like his style or his somewhat formulaic approach, but I don't read his novels for either style or innovation. I read them because (a) when they're fun, they're really fun and (b) they have some very thought-provoking ideas hiding underneath them.

I just finished reading his 2002 novel Prey. The basic concept is that a defense contractor develops nanotechnology to use for reconnaissance. Through some interestingly developed techno talk, we learn that Xymos, the evil bad guy corp, breaks all kinds of labor laws---including my favorite and yours, the 13th Amendment---by employing bacteria on the assembly line. Well, as usually happens, the nanotechnology gets out of control, learns how to self-sustain, evolves, and then tries to take over the world.

What's new about that? Well, just this. Crichton talks a lot about swarm intelligence. Swarm intelligence is, basically, the notion that a few simple rules can be followed by very simple creatures to accomplish amazingly complex things. Which brings me to an interesting idea . . .

If you want to think of it that way, a human being is actually a giant swarm. Or more precisely, it's a swarm of swarms, because each organ---blood, liver, kidneys---is a separate swarm. What we refer to as a "body" is really the combination of all these organ swarms.

We think our bodies are solid, but that's only because we can't see what is going on at the cellular level. If you could enlarge the human body, blow it up to a vast size, you would see that it was literally nothing but a swirling mass of cells and atoms, clustered together into smaller swirls of cells and atoms.

Who cares? Well, it turns out a lot of processing occurs at the level of the organs. Human behavior is determined in many places. The control of our behavior is not located in our brains. It's all over our bodies.

So you could argue that "swarm intelligence" rules human beings, too. Balance is controlled by the cerebellar swarm, and rarely comes to consciousness. Other processing occurs in the spinal cord, the stomach, the intestine. A lot of vision takes place in the eyeballs, long before the brain is involved.

Stay with me now.

So there's an argument that the whole structure of consciousness, and the human sense of self-control and purposefulness, is a user illusion. We don't have conscious control over ourselves at all. We just think we do.

Just because human beings went around thinking of themselves as "I" didn't mean it was true.

Could this explain why psychology is a two-way mirror? It seems like we can always look at our friends and neighbors and pick out their problems (and solutions), but we can never figure our own out. Maybe that's because our consciousness is spread across our billions of cells, the vast majority of which are too busy digesting, oxygenating, or doing whatever to pay attention to the deeper questions of life.

I'm not saying I buy it. I'm just saying it's an interesting thing to think about.

Balmy Balmer

People skills.  Do you learn them?  Are they innate?  Maybe they're molded by the time you graduate high school or college?  Maybe a mixture?  Or maybe they're a fallacy and don't even really exist.  Maybe it's really just a question of whether we like someone or not when we say they don't have people skills.  Maybe that's really the only test.  Somebody couldn't have people skills if nobody likes them.

I don't know.  Just thoughts I'm thinking about on a balmy Wednesday afternoon in Baltimore (prounced here with or without a d: "baldimer" or "balmer").

Move Over J.D. Salinger

There's something about novels that seems to provoke crime sprees in individuals.  I heard once that the guy who shot Reagan and the guy who shot John Lennon both had gotten obsessed with The Catcher in the Rye.  I also read that Rage was found in the backpacks of several school shooters, prompting Stephen King/Richard Bachman to pull it out of print.  Now, we can add Agatha Christie to the fray.

No wonder my fifth grade English teacher looked at me askance when I did my book report on And Then There Were None . . . 

Slummin, Oscar-Style

I almost fear the reprisal this post may prompt, but I'm having trouble sleeping just now and think this might help. Tonight, the Missus and I watched the 2008 winner of the Academy Award for Best Picture, Slumdog Millionnaire. I haven't been so disappointed in a (allegedly) best picture since My Fair Lady. Good movie, sure. Great movie? I'm not so sure.

Think about other great movies. The Godfather tells us an old story about love and family within the Italian mob. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest forced us to ponder who the really crazy ones are and what we're doing about it. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind asked questions as old as the human race about the inevitability of life. What did Slumdog teach us?

That honesty is the best policy? Awesome. Ten Things I Hate About You, How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days, and a hundred other non-classics tackle that same weighty issue.

But maybe my real beef with the movie is its troubling social darwinism. Which slumdog wins 20 million rupees and which slumdog died alone in a bathtub full of cash? And which slumdog has been begging for so long he can identify your alms by smell (since he can't see)? And what about all those other slumdogs whom Javed made homeless? Those unglorified stories, juxtaposed as they are with Jamal's, stink of Victorian theories on life and fairness, that the downtrodden are downtrodden for a reason.

No thanks. I'll take Yes Man and the questions it makes me ask myself over another movie telling me life really is fair.

Sent from my iPod

Shh

We finally have the internet back today after more than a week of its absence.  In fact, I haven't had a consistent internet connection since I left my old house on May 13.  So I guess that's eleven days.  But I only got on to say one thing: check out the American League standings and look at who's knocking on the door of .600.  While you're looking at it, compare that team's record to that of the Blue Jays, Red Sox, Yankees, Tigers, and Angels.  It turns out we were right all these years.  All we needed was pitching.

Now, shh.  Don't say anything.  You might jinx it.

Contemplation

Today, I finished loading the trailer and watched the guy drive it
away. Then I walked next door and disassembled the dog run I bought
from my neighbor. Then I came home and read twenty pages of Les
Miserables. Then I lay on my air mattress on the floor of my empty
living room and thought about the last three years.

My last class was certified yesterday, so I am officially a doctor of
jurisprudence. But with all my book learnin', I couldn't remember what
duty of care my neighbor owed me in case I got bitten by that black
widow whose nest I destroyed while disassembling the dog run. Maybe
there's a reason nobody calls us "doctor."

At least I spotted the issue.

Sent from my iPod

Le Futur

You probably saw the title and thought "Yay, jeremy's gonna talk about his future and his job prospects."  But you're wrong.  I'm on a basketball kick, so I'm going to share a quote that I really like.  Writes Buck Harvey:

[T]his [year's Spurs] was a 54-win team, and it limped to the finish. And it could heal.

So.  You know.  Go Spurs Go.  If my Rangers fandom has taught me anything, it's that there's always next year.

Go Spurs Go

As I'm sure you know by now, the Spurs have been eliminated from the NBA Playoffs in the first round for the first time since 2000.  I'm disappointed, but I'm not defeated.  The NBA is the kind of league where being a four-time former champion puts you in the elite.  Only the Lakers, Celtics, and Michael Jordan Bulls have more.

At any rate, I'm proud of my Spurs.  We played way too many games without Manu, and we still held on to the three seed going into the playoffs.  We really missed him these last five games.  But the rest of our guys deserve a shout out for their hard work, their gumption, and their class:

• Tim Duncan - St. Timothy played with more fire than anybody on the court.  His knees just got in the way.
• Tony Parker - What hasn't been said about Antoine?  Face the facts, NBA: Tony Parker is an elite scorer.
• Roger Mason Jr. - We will always remember your last-second shot against the Lakers. Welcome to San Antonio, Big Shot Rog.  I hope you stay a while.
• George Hill - The Pride of IUPUI may be the future of San Antonio.  Pop benched him for too long, but he was ready when the call came in Games 3, 4, and 5.
• Kurt Thomas - Do I need to say anything other than this about Sir Kurt?

And, of course, I would be remiss not to remember Matt Bonner, Bruce Bowen, Michael Finley, Ime Udoka, Jacque Vaughn, Drew Gooden, and the Fabulous Fabricio Oberto.  Others contributed, of course, but these were the main fellas.  Today, I wear my $10-Wal*Mart Tim Duncan T-shirt in honor of you all.

Why Baylor Law Is Awesome

Intangibles.  It's what sports people cite to explain why the chamionship team is better than the runner-up.  And it's what I cite when I say Baylor Law is the best.  Here's a tangible intangible:

He made everyone t-shirts. They had caricatures of him that previous students had doodled on final exams, along with a few quotes that he’s said over 150 times this quarter

You may be curious about who this "he" is.  The man that my class knows and loves as Prof. LAPP taught Civil Procedure this quarter so that the usual Prof. Civ Pro could try some cases.  We may or may not know those 150-times quotes, but we know the man.  And he is awesome.

UPDATE:  Here are pictures.

Hoop Dreams

A few days ago, I told you---in complete serious---my picks for the NBA playoffs.  Today, I share with you my "Hoop Dreams"---the teams that would win in the world of my dreams.

But first, let me say that an awesome NBA Finals would be Lebron stuffing Kobe and giving him a swirly.  I think a sweep would be cooler than a 7-game back-n-forth.  But I just can't stomach the Lakers walking through the West.  

So here we go.

Eastern Conference, First Round

• Cleveland over Detroit
• Chicago over Boston
• Philly over Orlando
• Atlanta over Miami

Western Conference, First Round

• Utah over L.A.
• N'awlins over Denver
• Santonio over Fort Worth
• Houston over Portland

Eastern Conference Semifinals

• Toughie.  I like Cleveland over Atlanta, but I wish they could play in the Eastern Conference Finals.
• Chicago over Philly, but I don't really care.  Chicago just because they'd be a funner matchup for Cleveland in the Eastern Conference Finals

Western Conference Semifinals

• Utah over Houston (the I-10 Rivalry is still alive)
• Santonio over N'awlins (could this be another I-10 Rivalry?)

Conference Finals

• East: Cleveland over Chicago
• West: Santonio muting the Jazz

NBA Finals: Gosh.  I'm torn.  This is why you can't always get what you want.  I want the Spurs to take another championship, but I also sympathize with Lebron's Quest.  Well, I said I'm torn, but I'm not.

Go Spurs Go!

NBA Playoffs Picks

Eastern Conference First Round

(1) Cleveland beating (8) Detroit in 5

When I placed my vote on ESPN.com for the Cavs, I noticed that 49 states and the whole rest of the world think the Cavaliers will take it.  The only state unconvinced is Michigan.  And only 56 percent of Michiganders are deluded.  That makes it pretty clear who should pull away.

(2) Boston beating (7) Chicago in 7

I think Boston will take it, but they'll have to fight for it.  A younger, hungrier, healthier Chicago will put up a fight, but that Game 7 in Boston will be too rough for them.  BUT if I had to pick an Eastern Conference upset, this is it for me.

(3) Orlando beating (6) Philly in 6

Orlando is a powerhouse that's been struggling lately.  But not enough to really give Philly a chance.

(4) Atlanta beating (5) Miami in 7

I read recently that the Hawks are the Cavs of a few years ago.  Anybody remember when the Spurs beat the Cavs in the NBA finals two years ago?

Western Conference First Round

(1) Lakers beating (8) Utah in 7

Let's face it: Pau and the Lakers have to play thrice in Utah before they put the series away in Los Angeles.

(2) Denver nipped in the bud by (7) New Orleans in 6

This is my upset in the West.  CP3 is pretty good at point.  Chauncey Billups et al. can do their thing, but I don't know if it's enough.

(3) San Antonio spurring (6) Dallas in 2.

We'll beat'm so bad in the first two in San Antonio that David Stern invokes the mercy rule and calls the series.

(4) Portland nuked by the (5) Rockets in 6.

I don't consider this an upset, just facts.

Eastern Conference Semifinals

(1) Cleveland riding all over (4) Atlanta in 5, maybe burning it to the ground during King James's march to the sea.  Let's face it.  The Cavs are unstoppable this year.

(3) Boston tying (2) Orlando in 6, then both teams agreeing to take turns losing to the Cavs in the Eastern Conference finals.  Let's face it.  The Celtics and the Magic both limped into the postseason, both will limp past teams that wouldn't have made the top ten in the West, and both will limp into an embrace.

Western Conference Semifinals

Here we diverge.  Dreamworld: Rockets blow up the dam, draining the Lakers in 6.  Real world: Rockets fizzle in the Lakers in 6.

Dreamworld and Real World: (3) San Antonio swats (7) Hornets in 7.  By this point, the Spurs will be getting tired, but they'll stop CP3 et al.

Eastern Conference Finals

(1) Cavs sweep (2-3) Bostando Magic Celtics in 7.  Lebron takes on playing both shooting guard and small forward . . . at the same time.

Western Conference Finals

Dreamworld: I-10 Rivalry climaxes with a raucous game 7 in San Antonio, with the Spurs squeaking by in triple overtime on Tim Duncan's second career three-pointer.

Real World: Pau & Co. bloody up the Spurs in 6.

NBA Finals

I have to confess.  I hope this is the Cavs' year.  I'd really like the Spurs to win it all again, but I'm not selfish.  And if the Spurs make it to the Finals, that complicates everything.  I mean---How beautiful would it be if King James and the Black Mamba squared off in an a m a z i n g seven game series for the ages?  Maybe Kobe : Magic :: Lebron : Bird?  If last year's finals were a shout out to the past, maybe this year's finals are a shout out to the present.

Newer and Better Fantasies

"Are you listening to all that?"  Thorne said.  "I wouldn't take any of it too seriously.  It's just theories.  Human beings can't help making them, but the fact is that theories are just fantasies.  And they change.  When America was a new country, people believed in something called phlogiston.  You know what that is?  No?  Well, it doesn't matter, because it wasn't real anyway.  They also believed that four humors controlled behavior.  And they believed that the earth was only a few thousand years old.  Now we believe the earth is four billion years old, and we believe in photons and electrons, and we think human behavior is controlled by things like ego and self-esteem.  We think those beliefs are more scientific and better."

"Aren't they?"

Thorne shrugged.  "They're still just fantasies.  They're not real.  Have you ever seen a self-esteem?  Can you bring me one on a plate?  How about a photon?  Can you bring me one of those?"

Kelly shook her head.  "No, but . . ."

"And you never will, because those things don't exist.  No matter how seriously people take them," Thorne said.  "A hundred years from now, people will look back at us and laugh.  They'll say, 'You know what people used to believe?  They believed in photons and electrons.  Can you imagine anything so silly?'  They'll have a good laugh, because by then there will be newer and better fantasies."  Thorne shook his head.  "And meanwhile, you feel the way the boat moves?  That's the sea.  That's real.  You smell the salt in the air?  You feel the sunlight on your skin?  That's all real.  You see all of us together?  That's real.  Life is wonderful.  It's a gift to be alive, to see the sun and breathe the air.  And there isn't really anything else."*

So--are we getting closer, or are we running in circles?

*Michael Crichton, The Lost World.

Pythagoras Is Never Wrong

Pythagorean records are a cool new statistic that compares runs scored to runs allowed to show what your record "should" be.  The formula is:

(runs scored)^2

----------------------------------------

(runs scored)^2 + (runs allowed)^2

Then you multiply the resulting ratio by the number of games . . . et voilà: seventh grade math used in the real world.  (The same formula works in basketball, but you substitute the 14th power for the 2d.)

Yesterday, the Rangers pounded the Indians and last year's Cy Young Award winner Cliff Lee, 9-1.  For those of you quick enough to pull out your calculators, you can guess my next sentence.

I hereby predict the Rangers will go 160-2 this year.  I have statistics to back it up.

The Why Chromosome

Some day, when I have kids, I hope to instill in them the importance of asking why.  Two recent cases I've read for class have made me want to ask the writers that question.

First, a dissenting judge in a Texas Court of Criminal Appeals case once wrote:

I believe that if this Court were abolished, its chambers demolished, the ground plowed up, and the site paved over, one day a crack would appear in the concrete, and through that crack a black-robed arm would thrust an opinion that says, "We hold that the indictment in this case was not an indictment."

Pretty harsh words.  What are those judges, ostensibly neutral, intelligent, and skilled legal analysts, doing invalidating indictments?  It can't possibly be that there's some good reason to invalidate the indictment.

And second, Justice John Paul "the Second" Stevens dissented in the recent gun control case (D.C. v. Heller).  He contested Scalia et al.'s interpretation of the Second Amendment and concludes:

The evidence plainly refutes the claim that the [Second] Amendment was motivated by the Framers' fears that Congress might act to regulate any civilian uses of weapons.

(emphasis mine).  Why did five of the nation's most highly respected jurists, ostensibly neutral, intelligent, and skilled legal analysts themselves, ignore such plain evidence?  It couldn't possibly be that the evidence wasn't quite so plain.

Sometimes people do things that I think are stupid.  But I have to remember to pause and reflect.  People aren't really that stupid, so they must have (or think they have) some good reason for acting stupid.  Even those crazy judges (who must be on some payroll) who claim to be protecting individual rights but are really just helping keep criminals out on the streets.

Pantheon of Ironies

I love irony.  Two of my favorite examples come from one of my favorite authors, Tim O'Brien.  In The Nuclear Age, his nucleigallophobic protaganist becomes an instant millionaire when he discoveres a uranium mine under his mountain in Montana.  And in Tomcat in Love, our hero knows everything there is to know about how language works but absolutely nothing about how people work.  Last Wednesday, LOST decided to join my pantheon of ironies.

How?  Well, by refusing to help Young Ben, Jack thinks he is preventing everything bad that happens later/earlier that he blames on Old Ben.   Because he doesn't help, Juliet and Kate are forced to take Young Ben to Richard for help.  Richard later tells them that, if he helps Ben, Ben will never be the same.  That is, the quasi-innocent kid will turn into a serial killing mass murdering liar and thief . . . all because Jack thought he could change the past.

If only Jack had been paying attention when Miles was explaining time travel to Hurley . . . 

Our Fans Are Better than Yours

As a newcomer to basketball fandom, I fear that I annoy my Teachers and Mentors with too many questions, like "What, exactly, is a 'pick'n'roll'?" and "Are they playing zone or man?"

But I'm better than a Laker fan.  This comes straight from the horse's mouth, via Justin "the nick of time" Scott.

Unfortunately for the Lakers, their fans aren't paying attention that closely because they're busy either trying to get on the Jumbotron, averting their eyes from Dyan Cannon, or trying to figure out things like "How many points do you get if you shoot one from half court?" or "How come that clock on the backboard keeps counting down backward from 24?"

I don't ask those questions, but I will ask this one: Who is Dyan Cannon?

It's #1

Tonight, The Missus and I watched the greatest movie ever: The Shawshank Redemption.  As a fan of both Stephen King and Morgan Freeman, maybe this movie was just right up my alley, but The Missus liked it, too.  And she doesn't like Stephen King.  So anyway--really good movie.  I concur with the IMDb voters.

He Said It Best

Nobody ever asks me why I want to be a lawyer.  But if they did, I might point them to this passage from Michael Cricthon's 1994 novel Disclosure:

Sitting in the deserted law offices, [the client] had the feeling that he was all alone in the world, with nobody but [his lawyer] and the encoraching darkness. Things were happening quickly; this person he had never met before today was fast becoming a kind of lifeline for him.

That's how you justify defending people you think might be guilty: because, as humans, they need somebody to believe in them and fight for their (and our) rights.

Thomas KOs Artest

A quick Google news search tells me that nobody else is reporting what I saw today in San Antonio: Kurt Thomas knocking the crap out of Ron Artest, knocking Ron Artest flat on his patookis in the crowd behind the goal.

Let me explain.  Mr. Artest battered George Hill, our rookie guard, who was on his way to a fastbreak layup.  Sir Kurt (who should be knighted for his defense of the homeland) answered the assault with the same intensity with which he plays: he pivoted, then sidled toward Mr. Artest, stepped into it, pushed his 235 pounds through his left shoulder, and blasted Mr. Artest at least twenty-three feet into the crowd behind the goal.  Fouls were called on neither Mr. Artest nor Sir Kurt.

Normally, I don't condone violence.  Sometimes, however, you gotta put the smack down to show people whose house they're in.  Sir Kurt explained to Mr. Artest, in language he could understand, that he was in la Casa de los Spurs.  If you mess with one Spur, you mess with us all.

You just don't get stories like this in baseball.

This One's for President Scott

The Sporting News, via Yahoo!, published a story by Richard Justice, who writes for the Houston Chronicle.  So maybe he's just rubbing it in our face.  (But let's face it---Astros and Rangers fans don't hate each other like Cubs and White Sox fans.  The only thing we've ever done to them was steal an almost over the hill Nolan Ryan back in 1988 or whenever.)  Or maybe he genuinely understands what it means to be a Rangers fan.  Some quotes:

To be a fan of the Texas Rangers is to live in your own peculiar sports hell.

. . . 

[E]very franchise has had its bad moments.

The thing that separates the Rangers from pretty much every other MLB franchise is that they keep making bad decisions.  Year after year.  Generation after generation.

. . . 

In 37 years, the Rangers have won just one playoff game.  That was their very first one---on Oct. 1, 1996. . . . Under general manager Doug Melvin and manager Johnny Oates, the Rangers made the playoff three times in four years.

Those were the great years.  

I think it's important to note that he says "the great years" and not "some good years."  The article then delves into the great ownership of Tom Hicks, including his deals to get Alex Rodriguez and Chan Ho Park before concluding with the words that every Rangers fan wants to read and believe and hope:

Maybe Hicks has learned his lesson.

Yes, and maybe this is the year we beat the Nationals in the World Series.

Go 76ers Go

After my team's miserable loss on Monday night, I feel the need to spread the embarrassment.  Last night, sixteen NBA teams met in eight locations.  Seven home teams won; the only home team loss came in the Staples Center.  And in case you were wondering, the Clippers lost up somewhere near San Francisco.

First Movies

The earliest movie I can remember seeing is the 1987 classic Predator.  After that, the first two movies I can remember watching were Michael Keaton's venerable Beetle Juice from 1988 and Bill Murray's 1984 effort, Ghost Busters.  The first movie I saw in the theater was the inimitable Who Framed Roger Rabbit.

The first Disney movie I can remember seeing is 1991's Beauty and the Beast, tho I might have seen Terminator 2 in theaters first.  I'm also pretty sure I saw 1992's Aladdin in the theaters.  The first Disney movie I remember owning is still my favorite, 1994's Lion King.  (I asked for the Super Nintendo game for my birthday, but my parents got confused and bought me the movie instead.  Ah well: all's well that ends well.  The movie is a classic and the game is forgotten.)  Maybe this is weird, but the two scariest movies I remember from growing up are Dumbo and Fantasia.  I'm still afraid of drunk elephants and dancing broomsticks.

Come to think of it, the only kids movie I watched much of before Lion King was Scruffy.

What about y'all?  What's the first movie you remember seeing?

Sawliet, Sawliet, Sawliet!

One of my favorite things to tell The Missus is that life is too short to be in a hurry.  Like many of my friends, I want to know how LOST ends, but reading this post on Lostpedia got me thinking about enjoying the present on LOST (whenever that is).  Here's a good sum-up quote:

Too many of us complain that there aren’t enough answers being given, and that there are too many questions popping up. But it is a mystery show, after all. Learn to love the questions.

Will Sawyer and Juliet end up together?  Who's the real bad guy, Ben or Widmore?  When will Walt come back?  I don't know the answers, but I have guesses.  (Yes, Jack, and Season 6.)  And right now it's a lot of fun to talk to other people about what they think the answers are.  I think when the show ends, we'll miss that part of the LOST experience.

Dignity and Debasement

The most beautiful book I've ever read is Stephen King's Cujo, a story not just about a rabid (or demon-possessed?) dog, but a story about the debasement of a husband and wife dealing with insanely huge problems they can't escape, like infidelity:

[S]he hoped he would always think he had been as mad as hell, and not . . . not the way his face said he felt.

Infidelity (whatever that means to the couple in question) is such a big issue in a marriage that it cannot be simply swept under the rug.

But why is it such a big deal?  Relationships sometimes peter out.  Friends drift in and out of closeness, sometimes trading best friends.  Why not spouses, too?  Sure, judeochristian ethics frown on infidelity, but why?  (I mean besides the obvious husband : wife :: Christ : church analogy.  I've always thought of that analogy as arising precisely because of the ban on infidelity.)  I don't have the answer, but I do have a thought: dignity.

William Peter Blatty's The Exorcist is both beautiful and insightful.  Toward the end, Father Merrin (the old priest) and Father Karras (the young priest) are talking about what the demon seems to want from Regan (the little girl):

I think the demon's target is not the possessed; it is us . . . the observers . . . every person in this house. And I think---I think the point is to make us despair; to reject our own humanity, Damien: to see ourselves as ultimately bestial; as ultimately vile and putrescent; without dignity; ugly; unworthy.

The demon is trying to debase Regan and the others and take away their dignity.  When I talk about dignity, I mean something deeper than pride and more lasting than the absence of embarrassment.  I mean a recognition of your intrinsic self-worth, a recognition that, regardless of what seems to be or what people think, you deserve to have that worth recognized.

And dignity is what infidelity attacks.  We all deserve, intrinsically, somebody on our side, even when the world hates us.  It's why we all have a Sixth Amendment right to counsel and a right to zealous, loyal representation.  And maybe that's why infidelity is so destructive.

Fiction

I love reading fiction and only tolerate some nonfiction.  I've read enough nonfiction over the past three years to last me a lifetime, but I have much more nonfiction to read in the future.  Perhaps Isaac Asimov said it best:

It's your fiction that interests me. Your studies of the interplay of human motives and emotions.

That's it.  I love stories, and I love psychology.  Go fiction!

On second thought, most legal nonfiction is really a study of the interplay of human motives and emotions.  Maybe I have chosen the right profession . . . 

Ahem

Cough.

The Other Texas Football Team

I don't know much about football, but anybody who paid much attention to the 2008 football season saw how important a quality backup quarterback is to winning championships.  Texas's other football team,* ironically referred to as "the Texans," decided to trade away their quality backup.  Besides my burgeoning affection for the Other Texas Football Team, I point this out to you because I thought you'd be interested in what the Minnesota Vikings gave up: a fourth-round draft pick.

You read that correctly.  Not two draft picks.  Not a first-round draft pick.  Not a player to be named later.  "Mr. Rosenfels, we appreciate what you've done for us the past two years, but we think you're worth the equivalent of an unproven Division II left tackle."

But like I said, I don't know much about football.

 

*Texas's football teams being generally recognized in this order: Dallas Cowboys, UT Longhorns, A&M Aggies, Midland High, Baylor Bears, Houston Texans.

Causation Joke

So I'm sitting in Advanced Crim Pro today, and we're talking about how Gerstein violations result in exclusion only if there is a causal connection between the violation and the evidence.  [This is really just a lame lead-up to what I think is a funny quote.]  That got me thinking about this quote from Douglas Adams's Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency:

The complexities of cause and effect defy analysis.

You can take that to the bank.  The moral of the story is that the space-time continuum is

. . . very like a piece of badly put up wallpaper.  Push down a bubble somewhere, another one pops up somewhere else. . . . The only thing that really gets hurt when you try and change time is yourself.

Ah, Douglas Adams.  You left us too soon.

Who's afraid of a little paradox?

Those who've been watching LOST lately are probably thinking a lot about paradoxes and what-ifs.  My personal favorite paradox is the compass.  Alpert gives Locke the compass c. 2004, but Locke gives Alpert the compass (via time travel) in 1954.  If Locke got it from Alpert, and Alpert got it from Locke, where did it come from?

To help explain, here's a nice humorous quote dealing with time travel and paradoxes:

If the Universe came to an end every time there was some uncertainty about what had happened in it, it would never have got beyond the first picosecond.  And many of course don't.  It's like a human body, you see.  A few cuts and bruises here and there don't hurt it.  Not even major surgery if it's done properly.  Paradoxes are just the scar tissue.  Time and space heal themselves up around them and people simply remember a version of events which makes as much sense as they require it to make.

Thus spoke Douglas Adams, so it must be true.

Wii are post-PC

So while my fellow travelers read through hundreds of pages of pretrial procedure and evidence law, my neighbor came over today to make sure his Wii didn't get blown out by the storm last night.  And I beat the Mirror Lightning Cup on Mario Kart Wii.  For those of you who don't know, this means that I have now won everything there is to win on Mario Kart Wii.  I now have only to unlock the three remaining characters by flying through levels super-fast on time trials.

It's so good to be post-PC.

In the Beginning

Ah, ladies and gentlemen, I introduce to you two unique groups.

The first: Baylor's 1Q's.  They are bright and shiny, happy, excited about The Law.  Rah rah for them.

The second: Baylor's 6Qs, 7Qs, and 8Qs.  They are a little duller, sadder, and sedated about law than are the 1Qs.  They are entering the PC Cave.  Unless you witness for them---which you should---you probably won't see them again until August.  It's too late now to say your goodbyes.

The 1Qs are learning the prose of the law: nouns and pronouns, verbs and adverbs, sentence structure, and the like.  Those entering the PC Cave are learning the poetry of the law: iambic pentameter and blank verse.

I wish I could tell you how great it feels to be post-PC.

Deadball Era II

For those of you who still turn to me as your source for important news, Sports Illustrated reportedly reports that Alex Rodriguez tested positive for steroids back in 2003.  On a side note, it's alarming that several of the big-name homerun-hitters caught up in the steroids era played at one time for the Rangers: Jose Canseco, Sammy Sosa, Alex Rodriguez.  What's next?  Are people going to suspect Nolan Ryan's 27th season?

Probably not.  I feel blasphemous even typing that.  The only drugs Nolan Ryan took were Alleve. 

Anyway, the Yahoo! article asks an important question.  Many were looking to A-Rod to save the sport, but now . . .

[W]hat’s left for baseball, which now looks to a future where a suspected steroid cheat will pass a confirmed one?

What's left, indeed?  I don't know . . . a return to fundamentals?  A return to good pitching and strong defensive teams?  An era where we can name more famous pitchers than hitters?  I, for one, hope so.

Defalcation isn't as gross as it sounds

Today's Dictionary.com Word of the Day is defalcate.  I thought "C'mon . . . everybody knows what defalcate means.  We do it every day."

Or not.  The trouble with quasi-homonyms is that they're tricky.  Five points if you can guess what I was thinking.  I'll put the answer five lines down, in white print.

 

 

Defecate.

Harry Potter XLIII

While the rest of the world watched Super Bowl XLIII, those at Chez Masten watched Harry Potter IV: The Goblet of Fire.  I just wanted to point out that I love Ralph Fiennes.  He may be my hero.  Even when he plays Voldemort.  But I also wanted to say that if you're trying to get through the Harry Potter series, hold on till you get to the fourth book.  The Goblet of Fire is the book that cinched the series for me.  After I read The Goblet of Fire (or HP4 as those in the know call it), I was hooked.  The night I read the scene with the third task in the Triwizard Tournament, I stayed up and read something like 300 pages.  Over the next week, I read HP5 and HP6 (whatever their real names are).  That's right.  Something like 2000 pages in 10 days.

I thought that was really impressive until I took Practice Court.

Black-n-Silver Domination

Anybody who talks much basketball with me knows how much I dislike a certain NBA team near Hollywood (and I'm not talking about the Clippers).  But I have to give Kobe Bryant some kudos; he complimented my team:

The Spurs are our rivals.

You should always feel good when people get excited about beating you.

And one piece of Spurs-Lakers lore.  According to Dave McMenamin of NBA.com, either the Spurs or the Lakers have made the NBA finals every year since 1999 except 2006, when the Mavericks lost to the Heat.  Go Spurs Go!

Running Down a Dream . . .

. . . that just might come to me.

Today, my partner and I---colloquially known as either "Team 29" or "Team 39"---rocked the house in our big trial.  Normally, I'd be too reticent to tell you that we won, but I have an ulterior purpose.  We won . . .

. . . no thanks to Justin Scott, who resisted my invitation to testify.

. . . no thanks to Mike May, a/k/a Mikearoni, a/k/a Mayonesa a/k/a Mikeanesa, a/k/a Mayoroni, who also resisted my invitation to testify.  (If this fellow had a blog, I'd link to him.)

And that's about all I have to say about that.

Quarter 9 Beckons

I registered for my ninth and final quarter of law school today.  So close, I can smell it.  Here is my beautiful schedule:

• Client Counseling.  This is a class I've been meaning to take.  I think I can benefit a lot from a class like this, and I plan to extract everything I can out of it.
• Advanced Criminal Procedure.  I've been avoiding taking this class, but I finally decided that it may be beneficial for a lot of reasons.  I wrote my article about a statute in the Texas Penal Code, and I thought the issues in criminal law were really interesting.  This past summer, I spent six weeks working in a criminal section of the Department of Justice, and I thought the viscerality of criminal law was compelling, even in such a cold area as tax fraud.  So here we go---learning about double jeopardy.
• Criminal Practice & Procedure.  This should be a really interesting class full of practical learning.  It will complement Advanced Criminal Procedure.
• Civil Liberties.  Another class I've been avoiding, I think this will be a very helpful class.  I feel the need to vindicate myself after my showing in Con Law.  Go 14th Amendment!

And that, my friends, is it.  For those of you keeping track at home, this means I won't have classes on Mondays.  Which means, most importantly, that I will have time to look for a job in the foreign land of Maryland.  If you know anybody looking, let me know.

Big Stars Big Budgets Small Payoff

My parents got me the Jurassic Park Adventure Pack for Christmas.  Did you know there was a Jurassic Park III?  Earlier tonight, I watched The Lost World, starring Jeff Goldblum and giving Vince Vaughn one of his earliest biggest roles.  I just finished watching the third (and apparently final) installment in the franchise, and I'm pretty shocked at some of the stars in here.  Of course, you have Sam Neill and a reprise of Laura Dern as Dr. Ellie Sattler, but you also have William H. Macy and Tea Leoni (first major role?) and, my personal favorite, Eduard Delacroix (credited as Michael Jeter for some reason).

While I was looking at the IMDB page, I noticed that Joe Johnston directed it.  That name should ring some bells.  He's only directed 11 movies, but that hit list includes:

• Honey I Shrunk the Kids (1989)
• The Rocketeer (1991)
• Jumanji (1995)
• October Sky (1999)

I can see a lot of parallels between HISTK, Jumanji, and JP3.  He was supposed to direct the eagerly anticipated JP4, but that apparently fell through with the passing of the revered Mr. Crichton.

By the way, if you haven't seen (or didn't know there even was a) Jurassic Park III, give up hope.  It's pretty good until the last 10 minutes.  It's like they hit the 74-minute mark and ran out of money or something.  The Navy/Marines do a quick amphibious landing just as Dr. Grant et al. wander out onto the beach.  Then boom---the credits roll.  Which is sad because for 74 minutes, I really thought this could be a great movie.

The Jurassic Park series sadly falls into that much too large category of series that should have remained single stories.

You Don't Mess with the Number 23

Based on this review, Yes Man sounds like Adam Sandler's nostalgia-induced run as Zohan. I think the two actors are actually pretty similar. Both got their starts on comedy skit shows. Both made their names doing inane comedies. And both are stellar actors who can do so much more than just zany comedy. My personal favorite Carrey movies are The Majestic and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.  (The latter may be my favorite movie of all time.) And as for Sandler, his role in I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry, lacking his usual over-the-top humor, was great. Don't get me wrong, I love Liar, Liar and Mr. Deeds, but . . . Maybe these two guys should move on and start keep making real, good movies?

This is why we love him

Greg Maddux has retired.  Everybody in baseball loved him, or should have.  Except Yankees fans:

In fact, perhaps the biggest decision of Maddux's career also came at the winter meetings, when he spurned a higher offer from the New York Yankees for a five-year deal with Atlanta during the December 1992 session in Louisville, Ky.

And that is why we love him.

New Love

I always think it's hokie when people say "I just want to try cases."  But I think I just want to try cases.  During Practice Court, I've had the opportunity to try four cases from opening to close.  I have to say that it's about the funnest thing I've ever done.  I say "about" because, let's face it, sitting around playing Mario Kart is a lot funner than researching the ambiguities of Rule 106 or chapter 74.  But trying cases is still one of the funnest things I've ever done.

And I've won at least three of my cases (the jury's still out on the fourth), and hearing the verdict read in your favor . . . it's nice to win now and again.

UPDATE: I won my last trial (Monday night) and advanced to the octafinals of the Top Gun Tournament.  I tried my case again this afternoon.  Jury is still out but I'll know later tonight.

UPDATE II:  The jury came back on Wednesday and handed me my first loss.  4-1.  Not bad.  I fought hard, but I guess not hard enough.

Unexpectedly Great Movie

My wife and I rented The Visitor from Blockbuster because we thought it sounded interesting.  I didn't know anything about it.  I don't ordinarily enjoy movies with a message, but after watching this movie, I wholeheartedly recommend watching it.  Maybe you don't care about the plight of immigrants in America.  But you should.  Our nation was built by immigrants, and only selfishness and delusions of grandeur make us think otherwise.  If you don't care about the plight of immigrants, I beg you to watch this movie with an open mind.

I leave you with two quotes from two of the smartest men ever to run our country:

We set this nation up . . . to vindicate the rights of man. We did not name any differences between one race and another. We opened our gates to all the world and said: “Let all men who want to be free come to us and they will be welcome."

- Woodrow Wilson, July 4, 1914

America was indebted to immigration for her settlement and prosperity. That part of America which had encouraged them most had advanced most rapidly in population, agriculture and the arts.

- James Madison, August 13, 1787

I hope we never forget that we are a nation of immigrants, indebted to immigrants, descended of immigrants.

Late Night TV for All

Continuing on my Michael Crichton theme . . . A&E is airing a made-for-TV version of the Crichton classic The Andromeda Strain.  Although A&E bills it as starring Benjamin Bratt, fans of good television will recognize the faces of Christa Miller, fondly known as Jordan Cox on the great Scrubs, and Daniel Dae Kim, otherwise known as Jin Kwon in what may be the greatest television show of all time, LOST.

If you hurry, tonight's second airing starts in six minutes (as of this writing).

UPDATE: I am happy to announce that none other than Eric McCormack (Will of Will & Grace) and Rick Schroder (Nurse Paul Flowers for 4 episodes of Scrubs) are also on the cast.  Stay tuned for more excitement.

Crichton on Science

My junior year, I wrote a paper about C. Wright Mills's book, The Power Elite.  While writing that paper, I learned and thought more about power than I ever had before.  Power is a fascinating topic.  As always, Michael Crichton contributes to the discussion:

"You know what's wrong with scientific power?"  Malcolm said.  "It's a form of inherited wealth.  And you know what assholes congenitally rich people are.  It never fails."

Hammond said, "What is he talking about?"

Harding made a sign, indicating delirium.  Malcolm cocked his eye.

"I will tell you what I am talking about," he said.  "Most kinds of power require a substantial sacrifice by whoever wants the power.  There is an apprenticeship, a discipline lasting many years.  Whatever kind of power you want.  President of the company.  Black belt in karate.  Spiritual guru.  Whatever it is you seek, you have to put in the time, the practice, the effort.  You must give up a lot to get it.  It has to be very important to you.  And once you have attained it, it is your power.  It can't be given away: it resides in you.  It is literally the result of your discipline.

"Now, what is interesting about this process is that, by the time someone has acquired the ability to kill with his bare hands, he has also matured to the point where he won't use it unwisely.  So that kind of power has a built-in control.  The discipline of getting the power changes you so that you won't abuse it.

"But scientific power is like inherited wealth: attained without discipline.  You read what others have done, and you take the next step.  You can do it very young.  You can make progress very fast.  There is no discipline lasting many decades.  There is no mastery: old scientists are ignored.  There is no humility before nature.  There is only a get-rich-quick, make-a-name-for-yourself-fast philosophy.  Cheat, lie, falsify---it doesn't matter.  Not to you, or to your colleagues.  No one will criticize you.  No one has any standards.  They are all trying to do the same thing: to do something big, and do it fast.

"And because you can stand on the shoulders of giants, you can accomplish something quickly.  You don't even know exactly what you have done, but already you have reported it, patented it, and sold it.  And the buyer will have even less discipline than you.  The buyer simply purchases the power, like any commodity.  The buyer doesn't even conceive that any discipline might be necessary."

Hammond said, "Do you know what he is talking about?"

Ellie nodded.

"I haven't a clue," Hammond said.

"I'll make it simple," Malcolm said.  "A karate master does not kill people with his bare hands.  He does not lose his temper and kill his wife.  The person who kills is the person who has no discipline, no restraint, and who has purchased his power in the form of a Saturday night special.  And that is the kind of power that science fosters, and permits.  And that is why you think that to build a place this is simple."

"It was simple," Hammond insisted.

"Then why did it go wrong?"

Jurassic Park, (New York: Ballantine Books 1993), pp. 306-07.

I quoted that at length just in case you, like me, remembered Jurassic Park as just an interesting book about dinosaurs.  There's some serious criticism of modern science in there.

Thought for the Day

I think all the professors who are banning laptops from their classrooms read Jurassic Park.  The movie is excellent; the book is even better.  Way back in 1990, Michael Crichton wrote:

In the information society, nobody thinks. We expected to banish paper, but we actually banished thought.

Back then, people probably thought he was an alarmist.  Maybe some people still do.  "Laptops help you think by putting information at your fingertips!"  Or maybe they just help you take down every single word the professor says, which is way too much information to be helpful.

Or, and I'm walking out on a limb here, maybe you just want to chat with your friends and check your email.

R.I.P. Mr. Crichton

Michael Crichton has left the planet.

I remember in fifth grade, watching my brother violently react when my mom interrupted his reading of Jurassic Park.  "Have you ever been so into a book that when somebody rips you out of it you feel like throwing up?"  I got the video game for Christmas that year and watched the movie a billion times.  Then in eighth grade, I finally opened the book and read for days.

In college, I branched out and read The Andromeda Strain.  I thought that I had read better books, but I also thought it had a really interesting premise.  I read Rising Sun, The Terminal Man, and A Case of Need before I stumbled on one of my favorite novels of all time: Sphere.  In my goodreads.com account, Sphere is one of only two books I honor with five out of five stars.  Later, I gave The Great Train Robbery and Travels four stars.

I'm in the process of reading the seven novels of his I haven't read yet.  They don't always rival Shakespeare, but they're always exciting and always interesting and always fun.  I can't say that Mr. Crichton was a good friend of mine, but I can say that I have enjoyed the hours I've spent reading his work.

If nothing else, I hope Mr. Crichton would be honored by my saying that he's the kind of writer who makes me want to write novels.

J'ai voté!

I love America.  I love that all I had to do to earn the right to choose my leaders was to survive for 18 years.  I also love that no matter who wins next Tuesday, there probably won't be riots and rebellion.  (We tried that once, and it didn't work.)  For all the time and energy wasted by pundits and political "scientists,"* America can be and usually (but not always) is a great country.

If you haven't voted yet, today is the last day of early voting.  The Election happens this coming Tuesday.  Get out and vote!

 

 

*I can use quotation marks because I was a political science undergrad.

Troubling in a Fire Safety Kinda Way

At the end of Carrie, Stephen King burns down the gym.  (In the Sissy Spacek movie, Carrie's house also collapses at the very end.  Remember the hand popping out of the rubble?)  In Salem's Lot, Ben and Mark burn down the whole town at the end, particularly the Marsden House.  In The Shining, Danny et al. escape with their lives while The Overlook burns to the ground behind them. 

So Mr. King's first three novels end pretty much the same.  If he weren't perhaps the greatest writer of the late 20th century, I'd be pretty upset.  As it is, I guess I'll let it slide.  At least until I read The Stand.  If it happens again . . . I'll probably read the book after that, too.

PS---It's worth noting that Cujo, one of the most beautiful works in modern American literature, if not in the entire history of English literature, does not end in any sort of funeral pyre.

Racism Pet Peeve #1

Sunday's Dallas Morning News had an article entitled "Blacks worry about polls vs. reality in Obama campaign."

Language is so powerful.  I wish people would stop referring to the different races as "blacks" and "whites," and start referring to them as "black people" and "white people."  That sounds so minor, but the difference in thought is huge.  When we refer to each other as "blacks" or "whites," we're implying that we are two totally different and unrelated species.  But when you say "black people" or "white people," you reinforce the only thing that will beat out racism: recognizing that we are only slightly different versions of the same thing.  Regardless of the color of your skin, you are still a person.

A Ray of Hope

If the Rays can go from worst World Series in 12 months, then so can the Rangers.

Juror #2

In the midst of Practice Court, a fun thing for my fellow classmates and I to do is complain.  For example, I could tell you about how much it sucks that while my fellow 3Ls across the country are getting their golf scores below 100, I'm reading 100 pages every night on deemed admissions or electronic discovery or the three-day add-on in Texas courts.  But every once in a while, you realize that you made a smart decision three years ago.

Part of the Practice Court experience is serving on a jury while your classmates present, defend, and judge cases.  Thursday, I sat on a jury in a case where this guy set his wife on fire just outside the courthouse---where she had gone to testify against him for using their infant son as an ashtray.  The prosecutor had promised to keep her safe once she got to the courthouse, then didn't keep his promise.  At least that's how me and one other juror saw it.  The other two thought it was her fault for walking out of the courthouse with her husband.  And the four of us went around and around for about 20 minutes (a very long time in the PC world).

I realized that I made a good decision in picking Baylor later that night when I noticed that the two compassionate jurors were both married men and the two compassionless jurors were both single men.  I've always heard that you have to pick your jury carefully, but now I see that it really makes a difference.  Jurors are not interchangeable.  I knew that in a book sense.  Now I know it from experience.

In case you were concerned, we ended up compromising that it was half the prosecutor's fault and half the lady's fault.

#1 in the Nation

Tonight, at Hondo's, we played the little TV network trivia game.  One round, I finished the 10 question tournament with 9492 points.  I beat my comrades.  And I also ranked #1 in the nation.  So that "Jeremy" that you saw ranked #1 over at T.G.I. Friday's or wherever you play your trivia games---that was me.

Thank you.  You can go back to whatever you were doing.

Funny cases today

From Lee v. Lee, 413 S.W.2d 931 (Tex. Civ. App.--Fort Worth 1967, writ history unknown):

[Contestants of their father's will] each received a specific bequest of $10.00 under the terms of the will.

From John Hancock Mut. Life Ins. Co. v. Dutton, 585 F.2d 1289 (5th Cir. 1978):

[T]he Sheleys left their home in Claxton, Georgia, to attend a motion picture theater. . . . On the return trip, Mr. Sheley stopped and bought some french fried potatoes for Mrs. Sheley.  He became angry when Mrs. Sheley refused to eat them[.]

From Osbourn v. State, 92 S.W.3d 531 (Tex. Crim. App. 2002):

[Defendant] first denied that she had been smoking marihuana and claimed that the odor was cigarettes.  After [the police officer] explained to [defendant] that cigarette smoke does not smell like marihuana smoke, [defendant] admitted that she and the driver had been smoking marihuana.

. . . .

It does not take an expert to identify the smell of marihuana smoke.

Just to help you through your day. (:

Just the Facts, Ma'am

I always thought that lawsuits were won or lost on their merits.  I mean, sure, a really good lawyer could win a really bad case, and vice versa.  But I always thought that who your attorney is didn't really matter, all else equal.

But about a week ago, I did my first mini trial.  My partner and I represented a life insurance company trying to avoid paying out a policy for an insured who committed suicide.  Meanwhile, next door, four other amateur lawyers were trying the very same case.  Afterwards, we learned that the life insurance company prevailed in one courtroom and the insured prevailed in the other courtroom.

Lest you forget---these were the same facts presented by different pairs of amateur lawyers.  None of us were terribly great or awfully terrible.  The only real differences between the two cases were the lawyers and the juries.

There are some interesting---if not wholly enjoyable---implications from that.

Not Scary

Have you ever noticed that everyone is afraid of Hannibal Lecter?  I'm jut not scared of him.  Now, the psycho murderer seamster scares me, but not the esteemed Dr. Lecter.  Maybe he'd scare me if I were Clarice.  But maybe since he's on the screen and I'm not . . . I don't know.  I agree with most of the rest of their Top Ten Greatest Movie Villains.

Moving Time

Yesterday in class, someone announced that one of our (Mormon) classmates needed help moving.  The classmate needed help moving beyond just the fact that he was moving, so I felt moved to help him move.*  I showed up this morning at his apartment, and I was only a little surprised to see that I was the only non-Mormon around.  What did surprise me, however, was that every single Mormon currently enjoying PC was there.

Spending five hours with these guys provided an interesting comparison to the Baptists I grew up around.  First (and maybe just because I was there), they didn't complain.  They rolled their sleeves up, picked up stuff, and took it to (and from) the U-Haul truck.  Second, although Mormons have a pretty strict behavioral code, they didn't act as if they can't do those things; they acted as if they don't do those things.  Finally, while these guys clearly know each other, I don't see them hanging out with each other all over the law school.  I mean to say that they're not a tight social clique.  They weren't helping him move because that's what friends do for each other; they were helping him move because that's what families do for each other.  That sounds cheesy, but they interacted more like cousins than like a tight social clique.

Regardless of whatever doctrinal disagreements we may have, I'd say that Mormons are way ahead of Baptists in the family-of-God department.

 

 

*Every once in a while it's good to have a sentence that is the model of clarity.

Delinquo Ergo Sum

Getting wait-listed by Duke Law sits somewhere on the shortlist of most satisfying events in my life.  Granted, at the time, I was pretty upset about it.  But now that I'm wiser and older, I appreciate it because it's one of the few times in life where I've clearly reached beyond than my grasp.  I tried to do something and failed.

Today, I tried to do something and failed.  Miserably.  I examined my first witnesses on direct and cross examination.  What should have been twelve minutes of glory turned into 45 minutes of apologizing.  I tried to (illegally, it turns out) mark up exhibits after I'd admitted them; I asked open-ended questions during cross-examination; and I even lost my credibility by letting my cross-witness get me mixed up on the facts.  Incidentally, I successfully excluded my opponent's exhibit on hearsay grounds, but that's like celebrating a third place finish because you weren't in fourth.  Either way, you don't make the playoffs.

The taste of failure is . . . bitter and nasty and disgusting and nauseous.  And I can't wait to take another bite.  It reminds me of something my junior history teacher used to say:

I love cold, drizzly rain.  It soaks through to your bones and you can't ever seem to get warm or dry again.  But at least you know you're alive.

I didn't really have any doubts before, but now I know for sure.  I am alive.

Why Everyone Should Work at Subway

According to the brilliant Douglas Adams:

There is an art to the business of making sandwiches which it is given to few ever to find the time to explore in depth. It is a simple task, but the opportunities for satisfaction are many and profound.

As a sandwich artist, I can affirm what Mr. Adams tells us.

Running to Stand Still

As I learn to read my homework ever faster (and more effectively of course), I stop to ponder important questions:

Is increasing your productivity increasing your happiness? If you’re getting more done, but not making more time for the things you want to do, something is wrong. The point of getting things done is not to have more time to get things done. It’s to have more time for the things you truly enjoy.

But sometimes you don't have a choice.  Sometimes you are just getting things done to have more time to get things done.  It's that second group of things that you want to get done so you can do what makes you happy.

Race for Second Continues

There are some things that I love about the Rangers pitching rotation.  Among them, that we get really excited whenever a guy throws a shutout.  I mean really excited.  I'm still savoring Matt Harrison's shutout of the A's last Friday.*  And just in case you didn't think he's the real thing, Yahoo! informs me that his 8 wins tie a rookie left-handed record.

Take that "Dice-K."

 

*Of course, it doesn't hurt that I didn't find out about the shutout until this morning . . . I barely have time these days to kiss my wife, much less keep up with the Rangers.  But I'm keeping my eyes on February . . . !

Because there's always next year

And hope springs eternal:

[On Wednesday,] Brandon McCarthy picks up his first win in 13 months. If he keeps this pace, his next win comes in... say it with me, Rangers fans... October 2009! (I guess that could mean Arizona Fall League.)

I'm saying it with you!!

Law School Odyssey

Week 2 begins today. Last week was one of the longest weeks of my life. Each day, I got up at around 5 o'clock, got to school by 7, and didn't leave until almost 4. Then I came home and read until dinner, usually around 7:30. I'd pick up reading again around 8 o'clock and usually read until nearly midnight or (at least once) 1 o'clock. Then I'd get up a few hours later and start it again. Enough about that. I have big plans this week to not spend quite that much time reading.

In other exciting news, I just finished reading Arthur C. Clarke's 2010: Odyssey Two.

It didn't pack the all-out weirdness of 2001: A Space Odyssey, but it might have been just as thought-provoking. The story suggests that maybe we're an experiment being performed by extremely powerful---but not yet omnipotent---beings. That got me thinking: what if all this is just an experiment? Maybe God is busy crafting creatures and species all over the Universe and trying to cultivate love or something like that. In the vein of Douglas Adams, the whole Universe might just be a big ol' psych experiment conducted by mice. "You know, Joe, we had interesting results back in 2005 when we hit New Orleans with two hurricanes. Let's see what happens when we throw another one at'm in the midst of their rebuilding efforts . . . !"

Yesterday, I began the third book in the Space Odyssey saga, the incomparably named 2061.