August 2006

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August 31, 2006

I Fucking HATE Plastic!

Why is it that, nowadays, everything comes in those fucking impossible-to-open plastic bubbles? I fucking hate it. Everything from electronics to underwear comes sealed in plastic. And this isn't your grandfather's plastic, either. This shit is tough, and you can't really rip it. In fact, I just took a pair of razor-sharp scissors to some of this fucking plastic, and I still had trouble opening the package!

It's fucking nonsense! WHY?

The fucking worst is when they make you think you've avoided the plastic by putting the item in a cardboard box. But then you get home and you find that what's really happened is that you have to deal with two levels of packaging.

Goddamnit!




August 30, 2006

What Is it That Matters?

When I was an undergrad working towards my philosophy degree, I would occasionally tell my friends that I wasn't able to do something with them because I was working on a paper for a philosophy class. One of my friends, Chris, would constantly tease me by saying that I should just turn in a paper with "Why?" printed in huge font. Honestly, I thought it was funny, but it made a good point.

Some people might think that philosophers have - or, more appropriately, think they have - all the answers. But what studying philosophy teaches you, or at least what it taught me, is how to ask questions. While I believe that there are right and wrong answers, that there is Truth in the world, I also realize that those Answers are hard to come by. But the important thing to keep in mind, I think, is that, given the elusive nature of real, ultimate Truth, the answers we ask on the way to the Answers are just as important, if not moreso, than the answers we find.

There was a time in the dark days of history when we were asking the question: How do we explain retrograde motion, given that the Earth is the center of the universe? That question resulted in unbelievably complex models of the universe. See, e.g., Ptolemaic spheres (explaining retrograde motion through the use of several interlocking spheres). But such contrivances, useful as they were, were incorrect, objectively speaking. The cause of this incorrectness was the questions people were asking. Later, as the geocentric model became more and more improbable, given empiracal evidence, the heliocentric model became accepted, and the question "how can we explain retrograde motion?" became moot: retrograde motion was a consequence of heliocentrism, not a problem to be explained away. Retrograde motion supported the heliocentric model, rather than serving as an insoluble problem within the geocentric framework. Put another way, because we asked a different question, we saw that the questions we were asking before were, frankly, stupid.

So, given this background, I must admit that I have no answer to the question posed in the title of this post. And, enlightened by the work of Ptolemy, I wonder if it's even a question that's worth asking. Is it family that matters? Love and sex and children and grandchildren? Is it money? Success? Defined how? Is it freedom from want? Freedom from need? Happiness? What the fuck is happiness? Is it time alone with a good book, or time with someone you love? Is it sleeping in, or waking up and "living life to the fullest"? Is it keeping your feet firmly on the ground or jumping out of perfectly functional airplanes? Is it saving children's lives or making sure there aren't too many children to begin with? Is it driving a hybrid so that you reduce your impact on our environment, or is it working towards a way to make sure the human race is not wiped out when our sun goes nova and our little green planet is swallowed up by the resulting explosion? What is it that matters?

I wake up some days and I run around and I do all this shit. But, in the end, there are still people without enough food to eat, there are people with AIDS, there are children crying in streets somewhere. Does it matter that I feel like I've accomplished something this Tuesday?

I do what I do, I guess. And maybe I should be thankful that I even have the luxury of sitting here thinking about this.




August 29, 2006

I'm Back!

The recent lack of posts has been due to a amazing amount of stuff to do in the past few days. Here's a recap.

Thursday night (my birthday), I went to a poker tournament at my cousin Noel's friend's place. The buy-in was $30, and I went out pretty quickly, although not as quickly as this other guy at my table who lost all his chips on the first hand. It's alright, though - in the cash game that followed, I made about $50.

Friday, we had a get together at my cousin Gloria's new house. The house is really nice. Most of the time was spent sitting around paying an incredible amount of attention to Gloria's daughter Mia (pictures forthcoming). Mia is, basically, the cutest, most adorable, smartest baby ever. I love her.

Saturday was my mom's birthday. We went out to breakfast at this nice place in Alhambra. I think my mom had a good time. Later on Saturday, I had to drive to San Bernadino for my friend Punk's wedding.

The wedding was fun, and I got to see my friend Mark, which was also fun. Punk wore a green wedding dress and the groom and groomsmen wore kilts. It was pretty nice. I'll post pictures of that soon.

Sunday, I woke up at 12:30 (after going to bed at about 5:30am) (all times Central), drove back to LA, hung out with my family for a while, and then went to LAX. I got there at 4:30 for a flight that was supposed to leave at 6:40. We boarded the plane at about 6:10, then sat on the plane for an hour or more while they tried to fix some problem with the navigation. After all that time, they decided that they couldn't fix the problem, so they moved us to a different plane. We finally took off at about 8:40, two hours late.

I got to Chicago sometime after midnight. I took a taxi to my car, and then drove straight to Madison. I got in my door at about 3:30. My cats were overjoyed.

This morning, I woke up at about 9:30 and headed to the school to work on Law Review stuff (the orientation for the new members is tomorrow). Now it's 1:36am and I just got home from the school. I've been working on Law Review stuff this whole time, and only left the Law Review office for a few minutes throughout the day. Man, what have I gotten myself into?

Anyway, I'm super-excited for the orientation tomorrow - I can't wait to meet the new members. Right now, though, it's time to go to sleep.

Oh, and I already kinda miss my family.




August 24, 2006

My Family's Crazy and Scarface Sucks

We went out for my birthday yesterday, and it was a bit of a debacle. But I don't really want to talk about that. What I found funny was the way that my family acted. First, a little background.

We had originally planned to go to this one restaurant. I drove my grandma in one car. My aunt drove my mom and Mia (my cousin Gloria's daughter) in another car. Gloria met us there in her car. Kaky met us there in her car. When we got to the first place, I decided it sucked and that I wouldn't have a good time. Using my authority as birthday boy, I decided we were going somewhere else. Everyone was cool with that. The problem was that the seven of us had driven there in four cars. So, my cousin Gloria decided to take my other cousin, Kaky (Gloria's sister), along with Mia, my mom and my aunt, to the new restaurant. I drove my grandma. So, we left two of the four cars at the first restaurant.

We showed up at the new restaurant and, sometime later, my cousin Noel and his girlfriend showed up, each having driven their own vehicle. So, let's count up. There are now eight adults (me, my mom, my aunt, my grandma, Kaky, Gloria, Noel, and Noel's girlfriend) and six cars involved. After our meal, it was decided that I would go over to Noel's and hang out for a while and everyone else would go to their respective homes. But we had an issue: how do we get my aunt and Kaky back to their own cars?

This may not seem like a problem to you, but here's why it was. My mom used to own a truck, which she would constantly fill with random crap. She now drives a Lincoln Continental, which is not a truck. The problem is that she hasn't realized that she no longer drives a truck. She still fills the car with random crap. So the backseat of this huge car could only fit one person comfortably. So, I suggested that, since Noel and Noel's girlfriend are both there with their cars, perhaps my aunt and my mom can ride in one of those cars. When I suggested this, I was immediately screamed at that we shouldn't impose on Noel or his girlfriend and that we would make due in the Continental. This despite the fact that Noel was sitting there saying "No, really, I don't mind. Seriously, it's ok." But, to no avail.

So, now we were faced with the problem of fitting four people into a car that could reasonably fit three (due to the extra crap). So I said that I'd move all the stuff into the trunk. My parents initially agreed, but then decided we shouldn't go through the trouble (I'm saying "what fucking trouble?") and just climbed into the back seat with their feet tucked into their chests and all crammed together. Mind you, my mom and my aunt are both over 60.

I just thought that was ridiculous, and a perfect illustration of how far they're willing to go to avoid what they perceive as a great imposition on someone. Whatever.

Anyway, I did end up going over to Noel's place. We watched Scarface on his 50 inch plasma. That movie fucking blows. Not one of the main characters was in any way sympathetic. In fact, I hated them all. They were all fucking worthless, lazy criminals. Al Pacino's character was the worst. A misogynistic, abusive, self-centered drug addict, Tony Montana is neither a good character nor a good man. It frightens me that there might be people, especially men, in the world that look up to him. All of the women in the movie are shown to be stupid, drug addicts, whores, or worse. I don't require that my movies change my life, or that they be a morality tale about good triumphing over evil. I love the movie Traffic (and not just because parts of it were filmed in my home town). There are few if any purely "good" characters in Traffic. The same is true of Crash. Those are both excellent movies. But Scarface does not appeal to me in any way because Mr. Montana represents literally everything that's wrong with men. Not to mention that he's a murderer. So, I could use an explanation as to why this movie's hailed as being awesome.




August 23, 2006

You Suck, Modern Music

So, as I've mentioned, being at my parents' house allows me to watch TV, something I'm not normally able to do at home. Today, I accidentally stumbled onto the most horrific show I've seen in a while. It was called "Rock Star: Supernova." Let me tell you about the show. Apparently, Tommy Lee, Dave Navarro, Jason Newsted (the former bassist for Metalica and the only person with any credibility), and some other guys have started a "supergroup" called Supernova. I put supergroup in quotes because, while the band meets the technical definition of a supergroup, i.e., it consists of members of already successful bands, it is hardly "super." In fact, from what I've seen, a more apt name would have been "SuperDouches." I'd love to give Jason Newsted some props, and Dave Navarro's done some good stuff. But the rest of these people sucked my ass.

Oh yeah, the show. Anyway, apparently Supernova is auditioning for a lead singer on this show. Which is fucking laughable right there. But, anyway, the people who are doing the auditioning are some of the biggest douchebags I've ever seen. They were clearly raised on the nu metal/punk pop, style-over-substance, neo-glam-rock bullshit that Dave Navarro and Tommy Lee seem to be all about.

The first guy I saw did a shitty as hell nu-metal cover of "Layla." It was terrible. But Tommy Lee and Dave Navarro both told him he was "just awesome." Then the next guy did a cover of "All These Things That I've Done" by the Killers. It, too, was horrible. But the singer didn't miss the opportunity to check his faux hawk in the guitarist's super-shiny Gibson Explorer. In any event, his cover sucked. Bad. But the members of Supernova were falling all over themselves to praise him.

God, I absolutely hate what's happened to popular music. I remember that a long time ago, I saw an episode of Saturday Night Live where the musical guest was Deee-Lite. It was one of the worst performances of one of the worst songs by one of the worst bands I'd ever seen. Then I realized: this is what music was like before Nirvana. Thank god for Nirvana, I thought. Well, Nirvana has been all but forgotten nowadays. In it's place we've got a bunch of people who emulate Kurt Cobain's angst-ridden style without any of his intelligence or, you know, talent. It's fucking disgusting.

Oh, and indie rock kicks ass, except that they're all afraid to rock.

Here's what I want: a band with genuine, awesome lyrics about whatever, who rock, take awesome but not indulgent solos, and have a few slower songs on their CDs. I want the Smashing Pumpkins! I want Weezer! I want Nirvana.

Instead, we've got Supernova. Fuck you, Tommy Lee.

In other news, I had another double-double today, bringing the full count to 4. I also had a single, which was awesome.

And I got new glasses.




August 22, 2006

All Out

So, my aunt and I went to the Morongo Casino today. She went and played her slots, and I once again tried my hand at live poker.

I generally believe that, when you gamble, you should set aside a certain amount of money, consider it lost, and then see if you can keep any of it. I failed at keeping any of my money today. But that's ok, really. This was the first time I played in a casino in almost a year, and the first time I had played no limit as opposed to limit. I had a great time, and I think I played decently well.

I suffered some pretty shitty beats, too. For example, in one hand, I had pocket aces. I should have just folded - I don't know if I've ever won at a casino with pocket aces. In any event, I had pocket aces. The flop came 8 10 8, suits irrelevant. I bet pretty high. I had one caller. Fourth street was a queen. I bet heavily again, and the other guy went all-in. I called. He flipped his cards over and showed Q10, giving him two pair. I was pretty much golden at this point - my pocket aces and the 8s on the board gave me a better two pair. Moreover, he only had four cards in the deck that could beat me. A queen or a ten would give him a full house. If any other card came up, I would win. Of course, the river was a queen. Oh man, did that one suck.

I also lost a shit load of money of a royal flush draw. I was pretty confident that I'd get either the diamond or the 10 (or maybe the 10 of diamonds) that I needed. But it didn't come up. And it sucked.

On another hand, I got a straight flush. Unfortunately, I only had one other guy in and he only made some small bets. I think I won about $7 on the straight flush.

On the bright side, though, I know for a fact that I wasn't the worst player at the table. I know this because I saw someone do the stupidest thing I've ever seen someone do in poker. Ok, this old guy and this younger guy were the only people in this hand. The flop was something like 9xx, the last two cards being irrelevant. The old guy raises $20. The younger guy re-raises $36. The old guy, thinking that the younger guy had gone all-in when he hadn't, said "call" and then flipped his cards, showing pocket 10s. Everyone told him that the other guy hadn't, in fact, gone all-in. The old guy flipped his cards back over, and the dealer said that it was too bad for him, the hand had to go on. The younger guy told everyone that the young guy was behind and checked in the dark before fourth street. Fourth street was irrelevant, and the old guy checked. The river was a four, and the young guy went all-in. Everyone at the table snickered. Clearly, the young guy had made a hand that he knew was better than the older guy's pocket 10s. This was obvious. Painfully so. Why else would the young guy go all in? A bluff would be completely stupid in a situation like that. No, he clearly had something better. So we all sat there, expecting the old guy to fold. But, no. Knowing that the young guy knew the old guy's hand, the old guy called the young guy's all in. And, guess what. The young guy turned over two pair. Man, the old guy was one stupid old guy.

No In-n-Out today, though. That was shitty.




August 21, 2006

Oh my God, Mexican TV is Even Worse Than I Remember!

Alright, today was a pretty good day. More about that later. What's important right now is that Spanish TV is not only terrible, low-quality, and sexist. It's also - somehow - has even less moral fiber than its American counterpart.

Right now, I'm sitting here with my mother and aunt. The show we're watching is called "Cantando Por un Sueno." It translates as "Singing for a Dream." Here's the best way I can come up with to explain how the show, which is one of those pseudo-reality shows, works. First, think about American Idol. So, there are singers competing for a prize, with the best singer getting the prize. But here's the special, unscrupulous twist: the singers have cancer, or some other deadly illness. And the prize is an unlimited amount of money for treatment. That's right, the winner gets cured, the losers are allowed to die. Holy fucking shit, tell me that's not evil?

On a much lighter note, today was my first full day back, and I got to see all of my extended family. We all sat around and they told hilarious stories about when people were much younger. We also talked a little about politics and gave each other advice on pretty much everything. It was really nice. The thing that really pisses me off, though, is that I always appreciate that kind of shit way more after it's over than while it's going on. I wish I could appreciate it as much as I do now while it's going on. I guess something's just terminally wrong with me.

In other news, my cousin's daughter, Mia, is now a year a half old. She's running around and trying really hard to pronounce things correctly. Everyone claims that she's a genius. I originally dismissed that idea because it's my impression that every parent thinks their kid is a genius. But, apparently she's actually way ahead of kids her age, so that's great. I hope she grows up to be a super-genius. God knows the family needs one.

Later, my cousin Kaky and I went to watch Little Miss Sunshine. As Santi already pointed out, it's a great movie. While I don't think it's the best movie ever, I agree that it's an amazing movie, at once funny and touching.

After the movie, I went to In-n-Out again. To recap:

Total double-doubles, animal style, consumed: 3
Total french fries, animal style, consumed: 2
God, I love In-n-Out.

Now, I'm getting down to some serious TV watching. I don't have cable at home, and my parent's seem to have every channel known to man. They even get a channel that, inexplicably, broadcasts nothing except a Sony DVD player screensaver. It's really strange.

Anyway, I guess my aunt and I are going to the casino tomorrow. I can't wait.




August 20, 2006

Hope and the Laws of Physics

I didn't fly a lot when I was a kid - my family didn't travel a lot. Now that I live half-way across the country from my family, I fly at least twice a year, once at the end of the summer and once over Christmas. Like so many other things that I didn't get to do when I was a kid, e.g., watch movies, eat out, I love flying.

There's something that I find really thrilling about the fact that, once the plane takes off, there's nothing keeping you up except hope and the laws of physics. While I have every faith that the plane's engines will create thrust, that the plane will remain intact and, most importantly, that the wings will continue to create lift, it's still awesome to know that there's exactly nothing beneath the floor you're walking on besides thousands of feet of air. It's just a testament to the awesomeness of Man that we can do that.

You know, lots of people I know are scared of flying, especially in the climate we're living in nowadays. But it doesn't really bother me: as Superman says "statistically speaking, it's the safest way to travel."

Anyway, so I'm home now. It's pretty cool and, most importantly, relaxing. I like being home, although I probably couldn't handle it for more than the week I'm going to be here for.

In-n-Out did not disappoint.




August 18, 2006

On the Eve of a Trip Across the Country

So, tomorrow morning I will drive to Chicago at 9am, whereupon I will hopefully hang out with Ryan and Elise before catching my plane to California. I'm going to California because that's where my family lives now, unfortunately.

I was born in Los Angeles, but my mom and I moved to Nogales, Arizona shortly thereafter. I grew up in Arizona, making frequent trips to LA. When I moved to college in Flagstaff, my parents, tired of Nogales, moved to Flagstaff, also. When I came to law school, my parents moved to California to be closer to the rest of our family.

It's strange going to see them in LA, a city I have always (and will always) hate. It's also strange that I've never really been able to go back "home." Other people are able to keep in touch with their high school friends because their parents and the parents of their friends continue to live in the same place, so that when they go back for Christmas, everyone's there. But this has never been the case for me. I've never really had a home to go back to and, as a result, I've lost touch with a lot of people from my high school. That's really not a bad thing, but it's just an interesting thing that happened.

I've managed to stay in touch with my good friends, so that's all that matters.

But the other down side is that I have no excuse to not hang out with my family when I'm home. When I go back to my parent's house, it's all family, all the time. Not that that's a bad thing, because I love my family, but it's just different, I think, from other peoples' experience.

This trip home is going to be kind of special, I think. My birthday is the 24th, so I'm going to spend it with my family, and my mom's birthday is the 26th, so we'll get to celebrate that, too. Although I'm going to my friend Punk's wedding on the 26th, I'll still be able to celebrate my mom's birthday with her, which I haven't bee able to do in a few years.

The really shitty part, though, is that I have a lot of work to do while I'm there, mostly for Law Review. I love reading on airplanes. I usually buy a shitty thriller to read onboard. This time, my reading companion shall be the 18th edition of The Bluebook: A Uniform Method of Citation. Not exactly the most exciting read, but necessary, and I'm kind of looking forward to getting intimately acquainted with the intricacies of legal citation again. Oh yeah, I'm a nerd.

Anyway, I shall continue to post while I'm gone, so keep checking in.

Oh, and I almost forgot to mention the absolute best thing that going to California involves: In-n-Out Burger. Yeah, PJ, by this time next week, I'll have eaten something like 10 In-n-Out Burgers. It's fucking awesome.




August 17, 2006

Fuck Yeah!

So, in the Star Wars movies, the Emporer uses a classic ploy to gain power. First, as Darth Sidious, he arranges a blockade and then attack of the planet Naboo. As Senator Palpatine, he then convinces the ruler of that planet, the naive Queen Amidala, then only 14 years old, to call for a vote of no confidence in the current Supreme Chancellor, Vallorum. With the leader thus deposed, Palpatine plays on the sympathies of the Senate and is elected to the post of Supreme Chancellor.

Then, he secretly orders a clone army that will be unquestioningly loyal to him. As Darth Sidious, through his new apprentice, Count Dooku, Palpatine orchestrates the Separatist Movement. It is the stated goal of the Separatist Movement to secede from the Republic. With a civil war close at hand, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine declares a state of emergency. The witless Jar Jar Binks, manipulated by Palpatine, then calls for a vote to give the Chancellor emergency powers. Palpatine, pretending to be regretful and humble, accepts these powers and vows to give them up as soon as the Separatists are defeated.

Eventually, Palpatine issues Order 66, an order preprogrammed into the clones' minds. They immediately turn on their Jedi generals, slaughtering all but the most cunning of the Jedi. Palpatine announces that the Jedi have attempted to overthrow the Republic, that he has saved the Republic from the Jedi, and that he will continue to do so - but as Emporer, instead of Supreme Chancellor. The Empire has begun, the dark times that Obi-Wan Kenobi told Luke Skywalker about have started.

George Lucas no doubt looked to several historical figures when he wrote about Palpatine's rise to power, most notably Adolf Hitler.

So, what's the point? Merely that in history, as in fiction, leaders will play on the fears of the people in order to increase their own power. It may be the case that the leader's motivation is, initially, a genuine interest in protecting the nation's people. But, as we all know, power corrupts.

The reason for this recitation of Star Wars history is that we find ourselves in a situation that is similar in some ways to the situation Palpatine created - although I do not believe that George W. Bush created terrorists, orchestrated September 11th, or otherwise directly contributed the the state of affairs with which we are now faced. However, several essential elements are there. First, we have an enemy that is ill-defined. Anyone, we are told, could be a terrorist. Second, this threat is being used to justify an extension of the sovereign's power. It is, of course, essential that the enemy may be among us.

One of the most glaring examples of this abuse-of-power-justified-by-a-new-threat is the NSA warrantless wiretapping program. Because of the threat of terrorists, the Bush administration claimed that it had the authority, despite the Constitution, particularly the Fourth Amendment, to evesdrop on private international telephone conversations made by American citizens. The only necessary justification, apparently, was that the telephone calls be made by someone suspected of being a terrorist. Of course, the Bush administration is in charge of deciding who's "suspected of being a terrorist," and doesn't feel particularly obligated to justify that classification to anyone.

To be perfectly blunt, this program was one of the most egregious abuses of power I've ever seen. No matter what threat we are facing, we must hold to the principles of the Constitution. That is essential. The Constitution is the essence of what makes America as great as it is - or has the potential to be. To relegate the Constitution to a set of guidelines to be ignored whenever it becomes inconvenient is to insult each and every American citizen, not to mention our Founding Fathers and centuries of tradition and reverence.

So, I was pleased to hear that a federal judge held that the NSA program is unconstitutional. The goverment has vowed to appeal. I guess we'll see what the Sixth Circuit Court of Appeals and, potentially, the U.S. Supreme Court have to say. But, while I haven't read the Order, I feel confident that the federal judge has made the right decision and I hope that the higher courts will uphold her decision.

Update: You can read the Order here.

Another Update: As tRJ anticipated in the comments, the decision is now being heavily criticized for being light on legal authority and heavy on rhetoric. You can read an article criticizing the decision here (I found it throught Althouse' blog). Regardless of whether the conclusion or the reasoning are upheld on appeal, however, I stand by my assertion that, morally speaking, this program is inexcusable. Legally, I am of the opinion that the program is a violation of the Constitution at the very least, and probably a violation of several statutes. In any event, it represents an attempt by the Executive to wrest power and authority from the other two branches, which is just not cool.




"The Woods Are Lovely, Dark and Deep, But I Have Promises to Keep and Miles to go Before I Sleep"

Just as a sidenote, I hate Robert Frost. I think he's horrible. All his poems fucking suck. Especially that one about the fucking pile of wood. He did, however, manage to string together, surely by complete chance, the lines I've quoted in the title of this post.

Anyway, school is quickly approaching. My anxiety level is quickly increasing. It undoubtedly has to do with the fact that I've got a shit-load of stuff to do and a very limited amount of time in which to get it done. And the fact that I haven't done nearly enough as far as trying to get my shit together for the impending job hunt.

I don't know what it is, but I'm quickly getting depressed and stressed out. Usually, I'm a pretty mellow, non-stressed out dude, believe it or not. But right now, I'm really starting to feel the opposite. I don't know why, really.

I mean, I guess I do. I'm terrified that I won't get a job. That would really suck. That's what's causing all of this.

Well, not all of it. The fact of the matter is that it's been an altogether great summer. One of the best I can remember. Certainly, the major factor in that in this summer's greatess was the people I was spending my time with. But, fortunately, all those people will still be around (with one giant omission, unfortunately). Additionally, more awesome people who were out of town will return. But what good are all the best people in the world when you don't have any time to hang out with them?

I fully expect the forthcoming year to be the busiest of my life. Somehow, I'm going to have to manage all the normal class stuff (reading, briefing, outlining, etc.) while keeping on top of the all-consuming job that is Law Review. I don't regret running for my position at all. To the contrary, I'm super-excited about the challenge it will present, and, honestly, I'm excited to learn all the stuff I know I'm going to learn. Still, I know that my time is going to be almost completely taken by school and stuff.

I've always been good at adapting to my situation. I've always been good at coping and getting by. I've always excelled at going with the flow of my life. More importantly, I've always been able to come to love my situation. I have no doubt that that will happen this year. But right now, looking at the giant impending tsunami that is 3L year, I have to admit that I'm a little bit freaked out. And what's worse - what really makes it suck extra hard - is that, unlike the apparent majority of my peers, I don't have the comfort of knowing that there's a great job waiting for me at the end of it. Not yet, anyway.

So, that's where I am.




August 16, 2006

God - I Fucking Rock!

So, I went to Gomeroke again tonight. Those in attendance were Ryan, Elise, Katherine, Fritz, Katherine's German roommate, Maureen, Trevor, and two of Maureen and Trevor's friends. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the concept, Gomeroke is this thing that happens every Tuesday at the High Noon Saloon where a live band, the Gomers, plays music while you sing. The Gomers know literally hundreds of songs off the top of their heads. The song selection list dares you to choose a song by the Beatles, Led Zeppelin, or Pink Floyd that they don't know.

In any event, I had previously gone and rocked the house with Neil Young's Keep on Rockin' in the Free World. Tonight, I decided to do a little something by the Boss and did Born in the U.S.A. If I do say so myself, I fucking did awesome! Afterwards, strangers at the bar shook my hand and told me I was awesome, and then this older woman in a sailor suit told me I was awesome outside the bar. It was pretty fucking sweet, I have to say.

Last time, I posted video. Unfortunately, I didn't see the video camera this time, so I don't think that there's any video footage. However, if I find any, I shall post it.

In other news, I'm done with work. Today was my last day. It was a pretty much awesome day, and I'm really going to miss all of the people from that office. They were all really nice, intelligent, approachable. Just, awesome.




August 15, 2006

Lily Tapia

So, after being forced to spend a week and a half locked in the bathroom, Lily has finally been set free. Today, I let her out and her and Smash got to spend their first few hours together. Through the past week, they've been acclimating more and more to each other. First, Smash just sniffed under the door. Then I opened it and they were able to see each other at first. After a while, Smash stopped hissing and I thought it was safe to let Lily out for a few minutes at a time. But tonight was the first time that she was able to come out and stay out. I think I'm going to leave her out while I'm at work tommorrow (my last day of work this summer!)

Now that she's out, I can post some pictures of her:









And what does Smash have to say? I don't know, but how does he look?



They've been chasing each other around all evening. They've been wrestling a little, and I've caught each of them licking the other. I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.

In other news, I'm feeling better. My throat and chest hurt, but I think my face is significantly less swollen. So, that's good.




August 13, 2006

My Only Weakness: Prime Rib

I'm writing this now instead of later because I sort of want to get this down, mostly for myself. I'll post about my weekend generally, which was awesome, tomorrow.

I went to dinner tonight at Outback with Cristina, laurence, Kristin and Cole. I ordered a gigantic prime rib. It came out, and it was fucking awesome. I got really excited about it. Maybe a little bit too excited. I don't know how or why, but I didn't chew one of the pieces of meat enough before I swallowed. It immediately hurt like shit. I swallowed a few more times, or tried to. But I could feel this thing stuck in my throat, and it wouldn't go away. It started to hurt more, and I realized that I was having trouble breathing. The people at my table started asking if I was ok, but I couldn't respond. I got up and bent over and started coughing, I think. I think right around then, people started getting really worried about me.

I think someone said that I was choking. Or asked if I was. I don't really know. I couldn't breathe well, I was coughing, and I was trying to make myself throw up. I was bent over, and things were getting really strange. I could hear people screaming and talking and telling people not to hit me on the back. Someone reached around me. I had been waiting for someone to do the Heimlich maneuver, but no one had. I wondered if anyone knew how. Someone finally did. Several times. But it didn't work. I still couldn't breathe. I was drooling all over myself. It fucking hurt.

Someone else tried, but it still didn't work. Someone asked if I could breathe through my nose. I couldn't. At all. I could breathe through my mouth, but it hurt, and I don't think I was getting enough air. I coughed and coughed and coughed. My head hurt. My throat hurt. I could hear people on the phone wth 911. Then the EMTs showed up, and they performed the Heimlich. But, again, it didn't help.

They told me to sit down, so I sat down on the floor. Then, somehow, the piece of meat was gone, and I could breathe normally. I was dizzy, tired, in pain. I couldn't see. My face was swollen, it felt like it was much heavier than normal. I took deep breaths. It felt good.

I was very dizzy, and my eyesight was all fucked up. I couldn't open my eyes all the way because of the swelling, and I couldn't focus. The EMTs asked if I wanted to go to the hospital. I told them that I didn't.

Our meals were free, and we left, with Laurence driving because I couldn't.

I don't know how I felt through the whole thing. At first I was just embarrassed - stupid. What kind of a glutton am I, that I can't even chew my food before swallowing. Then I was annoyed - annoyed that I was ruining my friends' dinner, annoyed that I was being a burden on the other customers. Then I got kind of scared. Not that I was going to die, but that I was going to have to go to the hospital and that it would be this big ordeal and that everyone's night was going to be ruined even more. Then, after I still couldn't breathe, I began to panic a little, I think.

Mostly, I felt pathetic. I hated the fact that this little piece of food had so incapacitated me, especially after claiming to be invulnerable all weekend. I was never worried for my life, but I hated the fact that my friends had worried about me. While I can't really remember much about while the whole thing was happening, I remember looking up and seeing them. And they were all scared. And I hated the fact that I had put them through that.

Later, I found out that it had been other customers that had tried to help me out. In my disorientation, I didn't think to thank anyone after I was ok. I felt really bad about that. So, if anyone out there helped me, thanks a lot. And to my friends who were there: thanks for the support during and after the thing.

I honestly don't think I was in much danger. Still, it was scary and unpleasant. Now, I'm sure I'm going to have black eyes tomorrow because of the swelling in my face.

Anyway, it was important for me to get that down.




August 11, 2006

The Force is Strong With This One


how jedi are you?
:: by lawrie malen




August 10, 2006

Little Green Bigots?

So, Little Green Footballs is a blog that's been getting a lot of attention lately. It's one of the blogs that helped break the story that the Killian Documents, which were offered as proof that George W. Bush's service in the Texas Army National Guard was less than exemplary on 60 Minutes, were forgeries. More recently, it helped break the story that a picture taken by a Reuters freelance photographer was altered using Photoshop.

Given all the attention that blog's been getting, I decided to check it out myself, just to see what was going on over there. What I found, frankly, was shocking. The commenters on the blog are almost all conservative. That's to be expected - the blog's author, Charles Johnson, is a conservative himself. Moreover, I knew that the blog had a conservative slant from reading about it. Still, I was shocked when I actually read the comments (Little Gree Footballs is another blog like Althouse's where the action happens mostly in the comments. That, in itself, annoys me.)

The most confusing and offensive stuff I found centered around comments on Bush's use of the term "Islamic fascists" to describe our enemies in the "War on Terror." Bush made the comment today after the foiling of the recent terror plot in Britain. Now, I can't really talk about my reaction to the comment because I don't have one. It's not really worth much thought, in my opinion. The people who were involved in the plot are Muslims. Ok. I'm not sure if they're fascists or not. It's not offensive: he's not calling all Muslims fascists or terrorists. He's saying that our enemies are Islamic fascists. You can debate whether it's accurate. But it's not offensive. Neither is it particularly stunning.

So, I was surprised when I saw this post. The post itself is innocuous, but some of the comments are insane:


This is the reason I am greatful he is our president. He calls it like it is. Bless this man.
I guess you'd expect that from a commenter on a conservative blog. Let's move on:
President Bush said the arrests are a "stark reminder" that the U.S. is "at war with Islamic fascists."

Guess he's decided it's time to retire that whole "tiny minority of extremists hijacking a great religion of peace" load he's been shoveling, eh?

But this is the worst one, by far:
I work with a Muslim dude. He's quiet and distant. Everytime one of these Islamofascist terrorist things happen . . . I trust him less and less.
This post was followed by a post in which Mr. Johnson criticizes CAIR for denouncing Bush's comment. Again, I feel the comment was fine and, therefore, CAIR's statement seems unnecessary and overly defensive. Still, it's reasonable. Here's something they said:
We ought to take advantage of these incidents to make sure that we do not start a religious war against Islam and Muslims
After September 11th, I was disgusted to learn of the violence against Muslims and people who "looked" like Muslims. That's not what this country's about. Therefore, I understand where CAIR is coming from: It's some Muslims that are evil, just like some Christians, some Jews, some Buddhists, some atheists, some people. But look at the response from one of the commenters:
Laughable....these people are nuts!
That's just such fucking bullshit. Look, I don't know a lot about Islam, I'll admit. But I do know that the vast majority of Muslims are vehemently opposed to the kind of terrorist attacks that were planned by the people arrested in Britain. It's ignorant and stupid to claim that all Muslims are terrorists.

Of course this sort of speech is protected, and rightly so. But it's bad enough to reduce an entire religion with the term "terrorist." Do we really need to nurture an environment where that happens? Mr. Johnson disclaims the comments, saying that they do not necessarily express his views. That's fine, but I don't think it's enough. People have posted mean things on this blog, mostly directed at me. I've left those comments up because I'd feel like a fascist otherwise. But if the comments portion of this blog ever became a haven for racist comments, I'd step in and say, in no uncertain terms, that that kind of speech isn't walcome here. Mr. Johnson hasn't done that. He hasn't even engaged these commenters to say "That's fine that you think that, but you're wrong."

The fact of the matter, though, is that those people are wrong. And, what's worse, they're stupid. Yes, terrorism is bad. Yes, September 11th was a horrible day. Yes, the people responsible were Muslims. But that doesn't give us carte blanche to hate a whole culture. In fact, we have to guard against having that happen. One of the major problems in our "War on Terror" is that we haven't taken the time to understand our enemy and, more importantly, to learn how to differentiate between our enemies and the innocent bystanders standing next to our enemies. The attitudes expressed at Little Green Footballs are just one step away from a "kill 'em all" attitude (in fact, that attitude is expressed on the blog). If we truly adopt that attitude, then we've failed not only at waging effective warfare, but at being an honorable nation. That is, assuming we haven't failed already. See, e.g., Hiroshima; Nagasaki; internment camps; Guantanamo Bay; slavery; segregation.




August 9, 2006

Ugh

I hate mornings. I love lunch and afternoons. But mornings suck. I hate them. I want more sleep.




August 7, 2006

Morning Drive Time

I've talked about liking my job a lot, and I do. But, you know what? At 9:30 in the morning, when I'm running late, I've only had 6.5 hours of sleep, it's Monday, and I've got a shitload of work waiting for me on my desk, I've got very little to look forward to. The few minutes of reflection I get on my drive to work are sacred. They're the time when I get to think about the day, the weekend and, more importantly, what I'm going to eat for lunch.

I choose to fill this time with talk radio. I don't like listening to music in the morning. Maybe it's because if good music's on, the last thing I'm going to want to do is turn it off and go into the office. But the more probably explanation is that most music stations suck, and the ones that don't suck all the time suck at least half the time. So, if I listened to music, what I'd actually be doing is flipping back and forth between the two decent stations, waiting for something good or decent to come on. Then, all of a sudden, I'd be in my parking garage and I wouldn't have listened to a single whole song and I'd be pissed cause I didn't get any time to reflect, etc.

So talk radio it is. Pretty much anything will do. Usually it's Air America because those people are fucking hilarious in their bloated, left-wing craziness. While I'm a Democrat, the people on Air America make me look like James Dobson or something. They're fucking crazy, and they give Democrats a bad name. But that's another post altogether.

On the drive to work, the Stephanie Miller Show is on. The Stephanie Miller show is neither funny (as it claims to be) nor informative (as it claims to be). In fact, it's stupid and infuriating. And that's why I listen: I love being angry.

Anyway, there is simply nothing I hate more than when talk radio shows take calls from listeners. I know there are smart people in the world, but I think the talk radio people screen them out. All the conversations are something like this:

Host: So, anyway, George W. Bush and the Republicans are driving this country on the fast lane to hell. Let's take a call. Bob from Phoenix, you're on [the show]. Bob: Hi, [host]. I just wanted to say that George Bush and his Republicans are quickly driving this country badly to a bad place. Like hell. I love you, [host]!

Or even worse:

Host: So, anyway, George W. Bush and the Republicans are driving this country on the fast lane to hell. Let's take a call. Mary from Tacoma, you're on [the show]. Mary: Hi, [host]. I disagree. I think the Republicans are getting it all right.
Host: Well, you're just an idiot, then! I mean, how can you say that when [lists a bunch of problems with Bush and Republicans]? Are you complete divorced from society?
Mary: No, I'm not completely divorced from society. I just think they're doing a good job. It's a hard job, [host], could you do any better? I mean, you've got Saddham and abortions and gays.
Host: Well, you're wrong and I'm right. [screaming ensues. No points are made. Discourse rolls over in its grave.]

So, the point of this post is to say this: leave the talk radio to the experts. They don't tell you how to be an idiot, so you shouldn't tell them how to be an idiot on the radio.





August 6, 2006

I Don't Like This Trend . . .

Alright. Up until last weekend, I had gone my whole life - roughly 24 11/12 years - without getting spat upon a single time. Now, in the course of about a week, I've been spat on twice. What the fuck is going on here?

The most recent one happened Friday night. I had been out with some people, but decided that I was tired and I wanted to go home. We were up on the square, but my car was parked at the State Street ramp, so I had to walk around the square and down State Street. No big deal. It was a really nice walk, actually.

Then, I ran into Rachel, who, I swear, has been dead for the whole summer. Anyway, there she was, and she was on her way to the CIty, so I decided to join her.

So, we were there with a bunch of people, none of which I knew very well. I was just standing around, spacing out. Then, all of a sudden, I feel someone pushing me from behind. So I resist because, fuck you, you're not going to just push me aside - not when I'm standing here minding my own business. But this person keeps pushing and pushing. I turn around and realize that this girl is trying to push her way between me and the couch I'm leaning on. That's sort of a stupid way to get where you're going, I thought.

So, I said to her "Hey, have you ever heard of saying 'excuse me'?" I meant to say it in a sorta joking kind of a way. Well, she evidently did not take it that way, because she said "I said excuse me, you fat fuck!" Now, I admit, I am overweight. But, seriously, where does this girl get off. So I said something back to her. Granted, it was not polite. Or mature. I admit that, and I apologize.

She responded in kind, again calling me a fat fuck. I sorta got pissed off and told her that it's conceivable that I could lose weight but that, unfortunately for her, intelligence is more of a "you're stuck with what you've got" sort of a thing and she clearly did not win that raffle. Then we traded some more unkind words.

Then she said "Oh yeah?" and paused. I thought she was going to hit me. But, no. Instead, she spat on me - right in my face. I had no idea what to fucking do. I sort of stood there staring at her. Clearly insulting her wasn't going to accomplish anything. If this had been a guy, I would have had one choice: fight. But it was a girl, and I wouldn't in a million years hit a girl under any circumstances. So I just took off my glasses and walked away.

I was beaten, I had to admit.

Later, one of the 1Ls who I had been a small-group leader for showed up, and we got to talking. After a while, I started talking to someone else and the 1L got lost in the bar. Then, I felt someone grab my arm from behind, and when I looked around, there was the girl who spat on me standing with the 1L. She was like "He told me you're cool. I was out of line. And I spat on you. Sorry." I had no idea how to respond. On the one hand, I hadn't been particularly cool, either. On the other hand, she spat on me. I decided just to let it go, apologize for what I had said, clinked with the girl, and went on drinking my beer.

Man. I don't even know what to say in terms of a conclusion. Just some wacky, wild shit.




August 5, 2006

If I Had a Million Dollars . . .

I would buy a Guitar Center. The thought of owning so much musical equipment makes me giddy.

Yesterday, I decided that I would go to the local music store down the street from my house and buy one of the several cheap guitar accessories I've been wanting for a while, probably an A/B box or an in-line tuner. When I got there, I found out that they were out of stock of both of those things. That kinda pissed me off, but, worse, it made me determined. Determined to spend money. I went to this store to get rid of some money, and if they didn't take it then, goddamnit, someone would!

So I asked the guy if he knew anywhere else where I might find the things I was looking for. He referred me to Guitar Center. I didn't even know we had a Guitar Center, so I drove down there, determined to buy something. When I got there, I was immediately hypnotized by literally hundreds of thousands of dollars of awesome musical equipment. Guitars, basses, drum kits, amps, effects. Oh, a guitar techno-geek's dreams.

And then I saw it. The Line 6 DL4 Delay Pedal after which I had been lusting for literally years. It was prominently displayed, literally, on a pedestal. I walked up to it, transfixed. I had just begun to fondle its knobs and footswitches, when a voice came from behind me: "That's my favorite. It rocks." I turned. There was a cute punk/goth looking girl there. I sort of did a double take. She had a nametag. Did she work here? Cute girls are not allowed to work at guitar stores. Only dudes with limited social skills and an air of superiority are allowed to work at guitar stores.

Anyway, I commented that I really liked the pedal, but that the price tag was higher than I thought it should be. She said she'd see what she could do. In the end, I bought it for about $40 less than the price tag, plus free patch cords. Not a bad deal, I thought.

As I was waiting for them to process my debit card, I looked around, slack-jawed, at the multi-thousand dollar Gibsons. Oh, if I had a million dollars, my rig would consist of the following:

Guitars:
Gibson Les Paul Standard (I've lusted after this guitar for as long as I can remember)
Gibson SG (I have one now, but I'd like a nicer one)
Gibson acoustic dreadnaught

Amps

Marshall JCM-800 head and cab (the same one used by Billy Corgan. I've already got the head, but my cabinets are not Marshalls)

So, basically, I just need about $10k and I'm all set.

I'd also set up a ridiculously awesome home studio. Oh, man, I wish I was rich.




Not the Best Day

First and foremost, I want to congratulate someone on something. The person who is being congratulated knows who they are.

My happiness for my friend notwithstanding, I'm feeling kinda shitty tonight. The worst part about it is that I can't really put my finger on why. Or maybe I can and I'm scared to admit it.

The fact of the matter is that I don't know where I'm going. No, that's not true. I know exactly where I want to go, I just don't know if I can get there. The "where I want to be" part is simple: a mid-sized litigation firm in Chicago. That's the ideal. But, the big question is whether I can get there.

I don't know how I appeared to the outside world last year during OCI, but I was freaked out and incredibly sad about it. I don't know why I didn't get an OCI job. And the job I did get, while mind-numbingly awesome, may or may not have come as a result of my own talents. This year I'm on my own, and it freaks me out. It's make-or-break time, for real. I've never been in that position.

It would be easy to say that I'm bummed because I'm not making shit-tons of money. The truth is that I'd love to make $140,000 at graduation. But, while I love the law, and I love the idea of being a lawyer, I don't love the idea of being expected to work on weekends or not having a life in general. That trade-off just isn't worth it to me.

So, no, my mood doesn't stem from the thought that I'm not going to make an absurd amount of money. My mood stems from the thought that I won't have a job at all.

Blah.

Some really interesting things happened to me today. I'll post about them tomorrow, when I can explain them a little better and hopefully do it in an appropriately funny way. For now, here are some really awesome depressing songs. They all have five stars on my iTunes "Depressing" playlist:

The Boxer - Simon & Garfunkel
I maintain that this is the best song ever. No arguments to the contrary will be considered.

Nobody's Fault But My Own - Beck
This song is simply amazing. The sitar. The lyrics. The general feel. Just amazing. I bought this cd (Mutations) based solely on the strength of this song. The album is ok, but this song is one of my all-time favorites.

A Long December - The Counting Crows
"It's been a long time since I've seen the ocean, I guess I should." Man, for some reason, this song really gets to me.

Tiny Dancer - Elton John
This is one of those rare songs, for me, that is immediately nostalgic for no particular reason. Listening to this song, regardless of my mood, makes me feel like I've lost something very important, and I think that's the mark of a good depressing song.

Worry Wort and Street Spirit [Fade Out] - Radiohead
Worry Wort is nostalgic for an entirely different reason - it sounds like one of the underwater levels in the old Mario games. More importantly, I remember the first time I heard it - on the way to Las Vegas with PJ and Laurie ("Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo . . . Guardrail!").

Moonlight Mile - The Rolling Stones
My all-time favorite Stones song.

Stumbleine - The Smashing Pumpkins
One of my favorite Pumpkins songs. A really mellow, intimate song about who knows what. Still, it's awesome.

Smells Like Teen Spirit - Tori Amos
This is one of the best covers I've ever heard. Ms. Amos brings an incredible amount of depth and emotion to what is already an awesome song. I love the way she inverts Kurt Cobain's raucous anger and turns it into a heart-wrenching exercise in restraint.




August 3, 2006

Is Donald Rumsfeld an Idiot? You bet! Also, Bellatrix LeStrange and a New Family Member

Does he ask a bunch of rhetorical questions? Yes. Is it annoying as all get out? Gosh, yeah. Does he deserve to be shot? I think so. Do I have a link to some sort of corroboration about what I'm talking about? No, not right now. Would I appreciate one? Yeah, I think I would.

In other news . . .

Bellatrix LeStrange will be played by Helena Bonham Carter in the Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix movie and, hopefully, in the last two movies. I gotta admit that I don't know how I feel about it. When I first read the headline, I totally expected Carter to play Umbridge. I could totally see her being annoying as shit, just like Umbridge is supposed to be. Still, I could see Carter playing someone who's all-out evil and downright crazy like Bellatrix. The more I think about it, the more it fits, really. I've always thought of Bellatrix as someone who, had they not been a witch, would have been a crackwhore who worshipped her abusive pimp. I think Carter can pull this off pretty well. So it'll probably be a good choice. For the record, Imelda Staunton is playing Umbridge. That'll be a good fit, now that I look at her pictures.

I have high hopes for the Order of the Phoenix movie. Each Potter movie has been better than the one before, with Goblet of Fire being the best, and the first that I really actually enjoyed. It would have been awesome if Mike Newell had directed this one, too, but I guess that just would have been too good. Still, I don't think any of the movies could come close to the awesomeness of any of the books.

On yet another note . . .
There's a new addition to my family. Today, I adopted a beautiful little black cat named Lily (think "Lily (My One and Only)" minus the creepy stalker thing). I'll post pictures of her as soon as she comes out from behind my toilet. Why is she behind my toilet? Because she's locked in the bathroom. Why is she locked in the bathroom? Because that's the way the people at the humane society told me to introduce her to Smash and vice versa. i guess cats have to get used to each other's smell before they actually see each other. Right now, though, poor Lily seems more scared than anything else.

I keep going in there every once in a while to see how she's doing, but she just keeps hiding. Hopefully she'll get over that soon . . .

I guess I could ask Moral Turpitude for advice on introducing new cats to the house . . .




August 2, 2006

New Feature!

You will now see a series of five stars at the bottom of each post. These stars should appear regardless of whether you're looking at the post on the main page or in the archives. In any event, these stars are for you to vote on each individual post. It doesn't take any time, so please let me know what you think. And let me know if you have any problems with the voting.




The End of the Summer is Nigh!

I swear, the summer's gone by really fucking fast. It seems like just yesterday I was finishing up school, starting my job, enjoying drinks at the Terrace, and looking forward to three long months of freedom.

Well, now the summer's got about 5 weeks left to give me. And I'm starting to wish I had been more productive over the past months. For one, my apartment continues to be as messy as shit. But, even more importantly, the responsibilities are about to hit the fan. Somehow, over the next few weeks, I've got to do the following:


  1. Get my FAFSA taken care of.

  2. Take care of literally tons of Law Review stuff, like deciding how the orientation session's gonna run and how we're going to run next year.

  3. Update my resume.

  4. Update my references.

  5. Decide which cities I'm going to apply to.

  6. Decide which firms in those cities I'm going to apply to.

  7. Send out approximately 97,465,254,676,324,788 resumes.

  8. Figure out a class schedule for the year.

  9. Go home for a week.

  10. Turn 25.

  11. Not die.

Yeah, it's a lot of shit. But I think that if I take it bit by bit, it should be managable. I hope so, anyway. If not, then I fully reserve the right to resign from life.




August 1, 2006

Am I a Giant Douchebag?

So, as an addendum to the post where I asked you guys to identify the biggest douchebag, I submit this picture:



In it, me and the office assistant for the Law Review do our best interpretations of some of the bigger douchebags in the original picture.

I'm happy to say that the originals are still the best.