About me, if you're wondering

Please see my original post here.



It's been a long haul to law school.

I studied fine arts at Wayne State University in Detroit, Michigan. Ask me about Detroit sometime. I have lots of theories and a few stories but don't really understand the city. Detroit chased me out and I can tell you about that, too.

I always knew I wanted to be a painter. I started taking art classes when I was in elementary school. I kept studying art all the way to college and beyond. I graduated college with some honors and I planned to head to graduate school somewhere on the East Coast. In the meantime, I worked a series of low-paying and mind-numbing jobs and one really great position as a freelance art critic for a local newspaper. Those stories about Detroit kept eating at me.

41 South Street, Quincy, MA, 2nd floor apartment. It was mid-morning on a Saturday and I was turning off a hallway light: this was the moment when I knew it had to be law school. It happened that suddenly. This is neither metaphor nor allegory; it's just the facts.

They ought to give you a box at law school orientation to hold all of your old memories and freedoms. I remember learning the multiplication tables in elementary school and thinking that there was no going back. There was no forgetting how to multiply and there was no going back to being that kid who could only add. (Yes, I was that kind of child.) I don't remember how my mind worked before I learned about affirmative defenses and burdens of proof and mens rea and causation. Those stories from Detroit look different to me now. I wish I had had a box.

I'm studying law at Suffolk University Law School in Boston, Mass. I started a decade later than most law students do. I recommend that route, if it's doable. My academic brain was a bit rusty but my empathetic mind was ready to go. I also save a lot of time by not having to prove anything to anyone except myself.

I have great respect for my classmates who always knew they wanted to be lawyers. Starting down a straight path and continuing to its end is commendable. But a meandering route is also okay.

I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, and I am getting along. I am aging and eaten and have done my share of eating too. I am not washed and beautiful, in control of a shining world in which everything fits, but instead am wondering awed about on a splintered wreck I've come to care for, whose gnawed trees breathe a delicate air, whose bloodied and scarred creatures are my dearest companions, and whose beauty bats and shines not in its imperfections but overwhelmingly in spite of them...

Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

Image source

Rape

Please see my original post here.


The day after Professor Seidman's appearance in my Crim Law class, I'm still shaken. I wasn't surprised by much of what she said, because I knew most of it. Key points: most men are NOT rapists. Most men CANNOT be pushed to rape. Rapists are recidivists, committing an average of seven (7) rapes in their rape careers. See Kilpatrick, Dean G., Rape and Sexual Assault, http://www.musc.edu/vawprevention/research/sa.shtml . Research indicates that one out of every six women has been raped in her lifetime. Id. Numbers vary by population; more than half of all rapes are committed against women 25 and younger. Id. 25% of rapes happen on college campuses. See RAINN's statistic page at http://www.rainn.org/statistics . The number of false rape accusations mirrors that of just about every other crime. See "Project Safe," from Vanderbilt University. But see the Fox News article "False Rape Accusations May Be More Common Than Thought" and recognize that bias can come from both sides. How many people do you know who have lied about a burglary (breaking and entering the dwelling of another at night with the intent to commit a felony therein)?

Professor Seidman had an interesting thought about attitudes toward rape. We find rape shameful, she said, because it involves sex (though, she added, "I would argue that rape has nothing to do with sex"). We're ashamed of the way we think about rape. I take this to mean two things. First, we're ashamed that we, in the 21st century, are embarrassed to talk about sex. Second, we've all taken in pieces of rape mythology and we're ashamed to admit it. Maybe she shouldn't have had that last drink. Maybe her dress was too tight. What was she doing going up to his hotel room? Why did she lead him on and then expect him to stop? What was she doing walking alone at night? Why was she acting sophisticated beyond her years?

Like all myths and legends, modern mythology springs from a sense of life's wonder, excitement, mystery, and terror. Modern legends offer images of the best and worst aspects of the human condition. They suggest that good behavior will be rewarded and evil, greedy, or foolish behavior punished. Some modern legends reflect people's fear of rapid social change or of science and technology; others appeal to their desire to find meaningful patterns beneath the confusing chaos of ordinary life.

Myths Encyclopedia, http://www.mythencyclopedia.com/Mi-Ni/Modern-Mythology.html , 1999.

I am surprised by the responses that came from some of my peers. In class, we discussed an alleged rape by Boston attorney Gary Zerola, as described in The Boston Globe. This is law school. 90 very bright individuals sat in that lecture hall. Some of them were appalled at the way Zerola's attorney, parroted by the journalist, blamed the (alleged) victim for the rape. Others suggested that it's the defense attorney's job to discredit the witness and any journalist would simply report the facts to his newspaper's audience. See The Boston Globe's article, "Woman describes alleged assault by lawyer," John Ellement, 2008. [The accused rapist, Gary Zerola, graduated from my law school, Suffolk University.] Ellement quotes the alleged rapist's attorney, Janice Bassil, in writing about the alleged victim "She liked to party," Bassil said. "She liked to drink. She liked to do drugs. She acted sophisticated beyond her years."

Then: "Ex-Prosecutor Acquitted of Rape Charge," John Ellement, 2008. Now I should take back all that stuff I wrote about the "alleged victim" and "accused rapist."

We have rules about what women should do to prevent rape. Women should not walk alone at night; women shouldn't drink too much; women shouldn't lead men on; women should not wear tight clothes or low-cut blouses or sexy underwear. See Myths Encyclopedia, http://www.mythencyclopedia.com/Mi-Ni/Modern-Mythology.html .

Feminism n. Belief in the social, political, and economic equality of the sexes. I've not heard much about how men are taking risks when they wear tight jeans. How many drinks is too many for a man? Can a man flirt with a woman and still expect to walk free at the end of the night? Should that man walk alone if he does walk free at the end of the night? (I'm focusing here on heterosexual rape, though I know male rape survivors.)

Hey, you victim-blamers: I'm not buying what you're selling. Get out of my way.

Law School and Discussions of Mental Incapacity

Please see my original post here.



In 1937 the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court referred to a mentally ill woman as "mentally deranged," and "ugly, violent and dangerous" but still found that she could form the requisite intent to commit a battery. McGuire v. Almy, 8 N.E.2d 760, 761, 762 (Ma. 1937). The defendant was mentally ill and struck her caregiver with a chair; she was subsequently successfully sued for battery. Id. at 760. Mental illness, in torts, does not negate intent. Id. at 762.

A schoolteacher took a leave from work after suffering a "nervous breakdown" [sic: words from 1969]. Ortelere v. Teachers' Retirement Bd. of City of New York, 25 N.Y.2d 196 (N.Y. 1969). Ms. Ortelere's doctor diagnosed psychosis; a court found voidable a contract into which she entered while still in emotional and mental distress. Id. at 205. Contracts are voidable when one lacks the mental 'capacity' to form them. Id.

These cases, discussed briefly in my law school casebooks and classes, opened up opportunities to talk about all sorts of ramifications regarding legal intent and defenses in reference to the mentally ill. They created fantastic opportunities to discuss subjectivism vs. objectivism; mutual assent; ability to form intent; and maybe even what it means to be frail (as most of us are, sometimes) in a society that presumes that we are, at all times, strong. The discussions did not get that far, and it's a shame. We only skimmed along the edges of what could have been a deep examination of where incapacity meets volition and what could be considered so disabling as to render a person incapable of contracting (or capable of battery). (Hey, I know it's law school, and I know it's first year, but we're still people living in a society that tries--or should try--to protect those who need protection.)

As Cara points out on Feministe, "stereotypes about disability/mental illness are constantly utilized in attempts to expose the 'fakers' and...the fact that they’re used in this way by people in positions of authority only reinforces the idea that the stereotypes must be true." Such stereotypes sometimes lead to narrow thinking and the assumption that "I'd know if someone was crazy." In America, around one in four individuals has a diagnosable mental illness at any time. When you're sitting in class, and the professor briefly mentions a mental incapacity defense, do you know that a person beside you or behind you or two rows away may be sinking into her chair or his own head? Or he may be sitting tall, knowing that he's living with mental illness and doing just fine, thank you.

Law students become lawyers and lawyers run the country. Attorneys become senators and governors and presidents but also take clients every day through court systems to shape policy and law. That's what I call running the country. And you know what? A large number of those lawyers have some form of mental disorder. They're not incapacitated and they're capable of forming contracts and they probably don't meet most of the stereotypes you have about the mentally ill. Hey, guys, the ReasonableMan--average but not mistake-prone--absolutely does not exist. Please get used to it now; then get to the business of changing the world.

Brought to you by the letters F and R

Please see my original post here.


[Feminism & Rape]
My CrimLaw professor is the most gently feminist/egalitarian professor I think I've ever been in class with. He doesn't shout his views because he just walks the walk, quietly and steadily and all the time.

On top of the basics of criminal law (actus reus + mens rea + causation + no defenses), Professor Cooper's class has included a lot of policy discussions. I didn't know about jury nullification. Jury nullification is a little-known ability for a jury to return a verdict contrary to law. Professor C introduced the Butler view without taking a stance either way. See Professor Paul Butler's "60 Minutes" interview on the black community's obligation to utilize jury nullification (and be aware that Butler's views are very controversial):



Do you know why the basic theories of punishment don't work? I don't entirely, either, but I know that they very often don't. See 'Inside Lorton Central Prison' by Robert Blecker. Stanford Law Review, Vol. 42, No. 5 (May, 1990), pp. 1149-1249 (discussing the ways in which traditional modes of punishment fail the felons and society). But see also Robert Blecker's Among Killers, Searching for the Worst of the Worst (stating that the death penalty is warranted in extreme cases). I'm grateful to Professor C for encouraging the class to think about policies behind facets of criminal law.

So there's all of that. Then last week we moved on to our rape unit. Professor C introduced the unit by alerting the class to the fact that many of its members are either rape survivors or had been falsely accused of rape. "So give your opinion," he said, but do so carefully. He stopped cold-calling and instead took volunteers for class discussion. There's a special place on Mount Olympus for professors like Cooper.

Class discussion on rape was difficult for a lot of people for a lot of reasons. Women spoke with strained or shaking voices. Or women spoke with ferocity. Or women spoke quietly but sure-footedly. Sometimes students' emotions got ahead of their words and we could hear their frustrations as they struggled to say exactly what they meant. Professor C let them work it out. The men who spoke mostly wondered why a man would continue if a woman said no, even if she said so quietly. (Yay for feminists!)

I want to protect every survivor in the room against any bit of blame. Look: women's bodies sometimes revolt against their minds, but it's their minds that matter. A no is a no, regardless of how quietly it's spoken. If a man continues in the face of a 'no,' he does so at his peril. Fear doesn't manifest itself in the same way in all situations. Sometimes women are so afraid that they do nothing. We say we don't blame the victims, but we do. We do.

Students make provocative statements that some of us can't not respond to. (I'm really sorry I shouted in your class, Professor C. I really am.) Arms wave, students gasp. In it all Professor Cooper pushes students to the extents of their views. (What if she said X? What if she said X and Y? What if she said X and Y but in a tone that sounded like Z?)

Professor Cooper has invited an expert in rape culture and law to the next class. I'll let you know how it goes.

(Feminism & Rape)

The world was a song

Please see my original post here.



You guys, this may be a bad sign.

I had a dream last night. That isn't the bad sign, although this is the first dream I've had in a long time that wasn't a nightmare and it may be a bad sign that since law school started I've only had nightmares.

But that's not THE bad sign. Last night I had a dream that I wasn't in law school. It was summertime and I was outside, standing in the sun, talking to some very nice adults who weren't carrying books. We talked about absolutely nothing to do with the law. That's right; nothing about the statute of frauds, no discussion of rape or homicide, no talk of open memos or writing out hypos, and absolutely nothing about personal or subject matter jurisdiction. In my dream I was wasting time and I didn't feel guilty. (See, that's one thing about law school. There's always more reading to be done, and if I pause to do anything that's not school-related I get panicky and flooded with guilt. Taking 15 minutes to blog even kills my psyche. I'm going to have to spend an extra half-hour with my flashcards tonight to make up for this indulgence.) See, e.g., Holy. Crap (holding that when exams are near the stress gets worse).

I had this dream, and it was a good dream, and I was happy in my dream, and I wasn't flooded with adrenaline thinking about all the work I had to do and wondering if I'd survive the next cold call. But here's the other thing: in this dream my mind was...blank. Sure, I woke up in a state of relaxation that I've not experienced since August. And sure, my body was relaxed and my tension headache was gone. And, sure, I was standing in sunlight, outside, during the DAY. Once I got over all of that, though, I decided that [maybe] this law school thing was [maybe] a good idea [maybe]. Most of the time, it's not fun. Most of the time, I'm filled with anxiety. Most of the time, I wish I had spent an extra hour studying the night before (see above). Some of the time, I wonder if I actually do want to be a lawyer. (I do.)

But most of the time, it's all right.

Image source.

The best thing I did...

...was to back away from perfectionism. I had great intentions. I started the semester with a clean apartment and exquisitely briefed cases. (Read the case once; read it again; brief it; read it again.) Last night I briefed four cases in less than an hour. ReadBriefReadBriefReadBriefReadBrief aaaaand save. Property book away; on to Civ Pro. CivPro done; on to study aid.

In the beginning, I thought maybe I'd try for top in my class. As exams near I realize I will be happy with an A, B, or C(the curve is a B). Hey, a C is good enough, right? Is it good enough for me? I don't know. And I'm too tired to decide right now. I have outlines to review and study aids to read.

But law school has definitely become the priority. My apartment is a wreck. My summer clothes are in piles on the floor and pairs of shoes have divorced and moved on to find different mates. I need to empty my trash but the trip to the dumpster takes too much time and energy. My plant died. I probably should have been watering it. My open memo materials are spread from the top of my printer, across my desk, onto my tv stand, and down on the floor. Whatever. I know where it all is when I need it.

Law school average is still pretty good. Here's hoping it'll all come out in the wash.



Image source.

Please see my original post here.

Holy. Crap.

Please see my original post here.

Suddenly, all of my classes are hard. How can I possibly memorize all the types of property interests? In personam jurisdiction is melding with subject matter and arising under and International Shoe and I'm not entirely sure what happened to Pennoyer v. Neff. Good lord; how am I going to remember the distinctions between first degree and second degree murder? Please, someone explain the common law statute of frauds to me and when the heck am I going to have time to rewrite my open memo? Exams start in less than a month and I'm out of food but I have no time to go grocery shopping. Do you know how tired I am?

If you're getting ready to start law school, don't fool yourself into thinking you know what it's going to be like. You have no idea. But even on my worst days I'm glad to be here.

What if I'd never signed up for law school?

Please see my original post here.

Today, I'm wishing for a bit of freedom. A stack of study aids is piled on my printer. Binders are in a sliding pile on the floor. Casebooks are open to various pages in various places around my apartment. My laptop is balanced on a Sharpie highlighter and I'm holding it in place with my wrist while I type. I've got a stack of old papers spread out on my tv stand: leftovers from when I was working on my legal writing assignment. Here I have a folder of old hypos and over there is my stack of flash cards.

I'm wishing for a day of freedom from law school.

I'd do some yoga and I'd end with a 20-minute Savasana. I'm a yoga beginner, but this is my hardest pose. Savasana wants me to quiet my mind and just let go. I'd do a 20-minute Savasana.



I'd read the Sunday New York Times Magazine. I'd work the crossword puzzle in the back. I think I'd go pick up some groceries. It would be nice to have time to go shopping. It would be nice to have some vegetables in my refrigerator.

I'd take a nap. I'd take a nap and not feel guilty. I'd wake up in my bed after an hourlong nap and stretch out in near-Savasana. I'd grab a book, and do some reading. Fiction. No flash cards.

I'd watch some Hulu. House, Eureka, NCIS, Heroes. I'd watch them all, back to back.

It'd be great.

Daydream over. Back to studying.

Sarah Kruzan: Sentenced to life in prison

Please see my original post here.



Sarah Kruzan was 11 when she met her pimp. Sarah was 11 years old--still a child--when she met G.G. The 31 year old stepped in as a substitute father. G.G. took Sarah and her friends--all still children--roller skating, and to the mall. When Sarah was 13 years old--still a child--G.G. raped her. And then G.G. sent this child onto the streets as his prostitute to work 12-hour shifts. She gave all of her money to her pimp for three years. Sarah was under 18, which means that she was raped nightly and repeatedly for three years. When she was 16, Sarah killed G.G.

The judge sentenced Sarah as an adult. She was 16--still a child--when she was sentenced to life in prison without parole. Plus four years. For good measure, I guess.

I can't find the details of the killing. But here's what I do know:

Sarah was a child when she was first raped. Sarah was a child when she was forced to sell her body. Sarah was a child when the justice system determined that she couldn't be rehabilitated. Sarah is now 29, and Sarah will die in prison.

Raping a child is not only illegal; it's despicable. Rape is confusing to adults. Rape is also confusing to children. When an individual is confused, she may not be able to objectively look at her choices. Children don't always know how to objectively look at their choices. Sarah was confused and unable to look at her choices.

As a society, we have said that adults are assigned the role of helping children make choices. G.G. was an adult. G.G. raped Sarah. The judge who sentenced Sarah was an adult. The judge decided Sarah could not be trusted to ever make appropriate choices. Sarah will never have the opportunity to choose how to live. Sarah will die in prison.

She was a child.

You're already bored

Please see my original post here.



Warning: if you're not in law school you are going to find me incredibly boring.

Are we friends on Facebook? When's the last time I posted about something that's not law-school related?

My current Facebook status:

Just realized I made a decent-sized error in citation in my open memo. Grr.
Yesterday at 5:30am · Comment · Like

If you're not in law school, you're wildly uninterested, you're rolling your eyes, and you probably don't know what an open memo is. If you're in law school you're considering adding a comment.

Hey, do you follow me on Twitter? My law school Tweeps and I trade jokes about adverse possession and wearing sweatpants to class. If you're in law school you might be realizing you've worn the same sweatpants every Friday for four weeks. If you're not, you're wondering why you should care and whether you should pretend that you do.

You might find my dreams interesting.

Two nights ago I dreamed that I was sitting for my Contracts exam and my computer wouldn't turn on. I woke up in a sweat. Was this a nightmare? This was a scary dream. Scary dreams are nightmares. This was a nightmare.

This is how I'm learning to answer essay questions. Issue: was this a nightmare? Rule: Nightmares are scary dreams. Analysis: This was a scary dream and scary dreams are nightmares. Conclusion: This was a nightmare. IRAC in a nutshell.

Last night I had a very detailed dream that I was sitting for my Torts exam and the professor surprised the class by giving us a Contracts essay question. In this dream, I watched myself write the answer. As in: I watched my hand write every word. The good news: I crushed that hypo. The bad news: I had another law school exam dream.

If you're in law school you're thinking that you understand IRAC more/less than I do. If you're not in law school you're wondering why you are still reading.

 

Did you find this post interesting? Only law students find this stuff interesting, and most law students would read the entire post. You read to the end of the post. Therefore, you're probably a law student. You likely found this interesting.

 

Really? Exams?

Please see my original post here.


So it's five weeks now until exams start. Omigosh it seems like I just walked into that first torts class with my shiny new backpack and a set of highlighters. Really? Five weeks until game day?

Things have changed in the wunelle corners. Case books have dispersed and we're walking around with our study aids in tow. In urgent whispers we 1Ls discuss which E&E will help most with contracts and where others are getting their practice hypos. "How many hours are YOU studying a night??" (Don't buy it; I don't think anybody answers this question honestly.) Where class discussion once centered on stretching hypotheticals to their full extents, now we're raising our hands and frowning with furrowed brows, "So, if we got a question like this on the exam..." The library is super-busy. (Urgently whispers, "Did you know they keep a hornbook* on reserve behind the circulation desk for EVERY first year class? Sometimes more than ONE!")

This is it, you guys.

 

*Hornbook: in law, a treatise that gives an overview of an area of law. A hornbook is pretty hefty.

Image taken from The Guardian.

Big Picture

Please see my original post here.



I'm trying to find the words. Give me a minute.



When I wrote this this and this, I didn't know crap about how hard law school is. I'm too tired to try to explain it and you probably wouldn't even believe me. I don't have time to blog, anyway. I've got eight cases to brief by tomorrow and three study aids I need to read through.

I'm trying to keep my eyes on the big picture.

I want to be a lawyer who helps people be this happy:



Now back to those study aids.

Blue Blanket

Please see my original post here.

In honor of a beautiful performance, I post the beautiful performance. Please thank After Silence.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2cEc3aQOP-o&hl=en&fs=1&]

October 23

Please see my original post here.

I haven't posted in a while but, you guys, it's been a really rough couple of weeks.

I hit a wall right around the second week of October. I think I'd been in school for something like six or seven weeks. I'd check on that for you but then I'd have to open up my calendar and do some counting and, well, I'm so tired.

I posted here about my realization that law school was, in fact, quite hard. And back in September I wrote here about the love-hate (mostly love) relationship I had with law school. In September I had found my rhythm. I was getting the reading done two or three days ahead of class. I read each case multiple times to be sure I caught all the nuances. I went over my notes after every single class and highlighted the important stuff. I was going to bed at a reasonable time and I was exercising regularly and it was GREAT! That was before law school put the smack down on me.

I will say that I'm absolutely thrilled to be here. I am. I feel incredibly lucky to be able to do what I'm doing. But holy-cow-this-sucks.

I'm now doing the assigned reading the night before or, often, the morning of class. I can read and brief most cases in 20 minutes now. Some days, I'm underprepared. There just isn't enough time to get everything done.

Also, I buy study aids. I buy them and I use them. This is a huge departure from my undergraduate days when I could ace an exam without even reviewing my notes. Yesterday I bought my eighth study aid. I have six classes.

If you're not in law school, you don't know what it's like. If you are in law school you know that I can't possibly describe it.

I can't read another word. I can't brief another case. I can't possibly fit another legal rule in my head. I don't just mean for today; I mean for forever. Except that I have to.

My god, I'm tired.

Preparing for Law School III

Please see my original post here.

Mailing the seat deposit to my chosen school was the final act.

I had spent months preparing for the Law School Admissions Test, weeks on my application essay. I laid out my acceptance letters and compared the financial aid packages. I'd finished everything. LSAT; FAFSA; LORs to LSAC; it was all done. After a year of balancing sequential pieces of the law school application process, I'd arrived at a sudden lull. This waiting business was no good.

Lots of websites told me that I didn't have to do anything except enjoy my last free summer. Much of the internet, in fact, told me that I couldn't do anything to prepare for law school. That advice wasn't true. I did some things to get ready that did help me transition to law school.

I read a really great book: 1L of a Ride: A Well-Traveled Professor's Roadmap to Success in the First Year of Law School, ISBN: 978-0-314-19483-1, by Andrew J. McClurg. If you're going to read one prep book, read this one. (See my review here.) Professor McClurg offers lots of really fantastic practical tips about how to be an effective student. Of all the tips offered in 1L of a Ride, the one that I'd swear by most is this: "[K]eep all of your course materials together in one place. [...] One efficient...way to do it is by putting all your materials for each course into a separate three-ring binder notebook." (McClurg, p. 167.) If you keep all of your notes on your laptop, you may only need one binder for all of your materials (but for the love of god, back up everything!). If you need to see things on paper, as I do, or you take your notes longhand, a binder is a great way of staying organized. Some of my classmates keep notes in spiral notebooks and some students just keep everything in a folder. I swear by my three-ring binders. (And in the beginning you're going to think you don't need the three-inch binder that McClurg recommends. Like nearly all first week first impressions, you're wrong.)

I then moved on to Succeeding in Law School, ISBN 1-59460-189-5, by Herbert N. Ramy. Professor Ramy's book has more specific academic advice, which isn't surprising since he's the director of his university's Academic Support Program. Succeeding in Law School has actual practice exercises: try out writing a case brief; answer some multiple choice questions; change some hypotheticals. If you're going to read two books; grab this one. It's a really good second preparation book; we're moving from general to specific here.

The third book I read is 1000 Days to the Bar: But the Practice of Law begins Now, ISBN 0-8377-3726-5, by Dennis J. Tonsing. As with anything, take Profesor Tonsing's advice with a grain of salt. His book is the most specific of the three books I read and therefore quite helpful in the awful waiting-game days just before the start of the semester, but don't let Tonsing scare you. His proscription of laughter in the classroom is unwarranted. It's true that you should never laugh at a student who is struggling, but it's completely false to say that "smiles are usually the most appropriate responses to the humorous professorial comment." (Tonsing, p. 46.) It's also not true that "humorous remarks made by fellow students...are often out of place." Id. Law is a serious profession but the law school classroom is probably the place where I laugh the most. Students do often make funny and completely appropriate jokes. Also--surprise!--your professor may be one of the wittiest people you meet in school. Class isn't comedy hour but there is room for laughter when it's appropriate (and you'll know when it's appropriate).

Now, in the summer before law school try to cram in as much of the things you really enjoy as possible. If you're a reader, grab some fiction. (I re-read the entire Harry Potter series.) If you're a runner, train for a last race. You're about to become very, very busy and your past life will almost completely drop away from you in spite of your best intentions. Try to relax. Law school is hard but not impossible. The admissions committee believes you can do this and you'll do well to start believing them ASAP.

Did you find everything ok?

Please see my original post here.

It seems that everyone's celebrating the barcode patent's 57th anniversary. At NPR's "All Tech Considered" blog Eyder Peralta reminisces about barcode scanners. Referring to them as "dangerous, crisscrossing red lines," Peralta describes laser beam readers as forbidden; mythical; mysterious.

Google honored the patent's anniversary by changing its logo (the "Google Doodle") to this:



I'm told that the above barcode translates to the word "Google" in something called Code 128.

The barcode-impassioned can go here to turn a word (or whatever) into a barcode. The Washington Post discusses the barcode's history in this article. On October 7, 2009, at 4:54 pm the search term "make your own barcode" was number four on Google Trends's top ten list. And on and on and on. I get it; you don't understand how the thing works but you love that it does.

I don't share your fascination.

I've already discussed my struggles with underemployment. Cashiering was by far the underest underemployment that's ever employed me. Mind-numbing doesn't even come close to describing it. If you've done it, you know. Standing in one place for hours and watching that red light find the black lines is...endless. Knees; arches; back; head: everything hurts. If you've done it, you know. Remember how all you wanted to do after your shift was go home and shut out the noise? Remember how at the end of the day you just couldn't force that smile any more? Remember how you'd grab an extra shift even when all you wanted to do was sleep in on Sunday morning, but you took the shift because you needed the money that much? If you've done it, you know.

That red light? It's not all that incomprehensible. It's a laser attached to a computer, and now we know there's a patent for it. If you want mysterious, ask me how I paid my rent on a base wage of $7.15 an hour. There's no doodle for that.

Justice Scalia, how could you?

Please see my original post here.

Excuse me, Justice Antonin Scalia?

The WSJ notes here that the Supreme Court justices granted interviews to C-SPAN reporters (links and transcripts are not yet available). While the interviews, filmed as part of the network's "Supreme Court Week," have not yet been aired, some pieces of transcripts have made it out.

The WSJ Blog quotes Scalia as follows:

Well, you know, two chiefs ago, Chief Justice Burger, used to complain about the low quality of counsel. I used to have just the opposite reaction. I used to be disappointed that so many of the best minds in the country were being devoted to this enterprise.

I mean there’d be a, you know, a defense or public defender from Podunk, you know, and this woman is really brilliant, you know. Why isn’t she out inventing the automobile or, you know, doing something productive for this society?

I mean lawyers, after all, don’t produce anything. They enable other people to produce and to go on with their lives efficiently and in an atmosphere of freedom. That’s important, but it doesn’t put food on the table and there have to be other people who are doing that. And I worry that we are devoting too many of our very best minds to this enterprise.

And they appear here in the Court, I mean, even the ones who will only argue here once and will never come again. I’m usually impressed with how good they are. Sometimes you get one who’s not so good. But, no, by and large I don’t have any complaint about the quality of counsel, except maybe we’re wasting some of our best minds.

Professor Chris Lund notes on PrawfsBlawg that "I was...amused by the amount of "you knows" in Justice Scalia's remarks -- he talks like an ordinary guy."

Ok, but maybe there are other things we should be talking about here. Like: Justice Scalia, how could you say such a thing?

The Supreme Court interprets the laws of the United States. We're talking about the UNITED STATES CONSTITUTION. Those justices determine our rights and responsibilities; their rulings address privacy, due process, rights against discrimination, voting rights, and dozens or hundreds or thousands of other rights afforded United States citizens. If a lawyer is bright enough to get a case before the Supreme Court and sharp enough to argue the case there, what better use of that person's time can we possibly imagine? Someone else will invent the automobile; this person's calling is the law.

Justice Scalia, you have your faults but you are among the best minds in our country. How can you so denounce those who share your profession?

Preparing for the LSAT

[Please see my original post here.]

We can argue about the merits of using a test score to determine whether an individual has the aptitude for law school. We can argue until December or February or June or September but if you want to go to law school you're going to take that test. And the LSAT is not an easy test. It's long and it's created to be challenging and it uses both sides of the test-taker's brain, sometimes simultaneously. If you want to take it only once, and you want to get into the law school of your choice, and you want to maybe earn a scholarship, you probably want to be ready on test day.

So you've made the choice. You've signed up for the LSAT. You've got your ticket. You know where your testing center is and now maybe you're just going to wait. If that's what you want to do, that's fine. You don't need to keep reading here. But if you're as worried as I was about taking the LSAT, you probably want to do something to get ready. My score wasn't as chart-topping but it was high enough to get me to law school and I did well enough on the LSAT that I didn't take it again. I'm obviously not an expert, and I certainly didn't ace the test, but I can tell you what I did that seemed to work for me.

So what do you do now?

Buy a book. Seriously; go to a bookstore and buy an LSAT prep book. Or two. When you're in law school you're going to spend thousands of dollars on books. You're going to spend tens of thousands of dollars on tuition. You're going to pay for study aids and student bar association dues and you're going to pay to prepare for and take the bar exam. If you don't do well on your first go at the LSAT, you will probably pay to take it again. Just spend the $20 and get an LSAT prep book. The people who write the books are not trying to rob you; they're trying to help you.

Now use the book. First read the chapters about how to approach the exam as a whole and each section individually. Treasure the tips and memorize them. I swear: they will make a difference when you take the exam.

Now practice. Work the untimed practice sections and check your answers. Use the margins of the page to do your work; you probably won't get scrap paper when you take the exam. Work all of the practice questions. Watch yourself get better and faster at answering them.

Then start taking full practice exams. Time yourself, sit in a quiet place, and take an entire practice exam in one go. Do you see how unprepared you are for this test? Don't worry about it; just keep practicing. Make another go at a practice exam, and another. Order the old LSATs from LSAC. When you receive them, use them. Take them from start to finish; time yourself and check your answers.

When test day comes, try to relax (but not completely. Having some adrenaline in your system will keep you alert. Adrenaline kept me going even through the last section, when my brain was exhausted.) Dress in layers and bring lots of sharp pencils and erasers. You'll do the best you can do, and that's the best you can hope for.

Too cool for law school?

Please see my original post here.


I'm realizing that I've been complaining a lot here. So it's time to talk about the law school things that I love.

• I am completely blown away by the fact that I can now read a hypothetical situation and argue both sides of a case. I'm pretty sure I couldn't effectively do that six weeks ago. Perhaps I couldn't even do it ineffectively. Knowing that in six more weeks I may be twice as good at arguing is AWESOME. Watch out world; I'm gonna debate the CRAP out of you. (Also, watch out, friends and family. I'm gonna be really annoying.)


• Law school professors are pretty cool. They're not all hanging-out-on-the-street cool--though some of them are--but my experience is that they're smart and sometimes witty and often compassionate and always intensely invested in my education. They really want me to get this stuff.


• A friend of mine just opted out of an arbitration clause in his cable contract. Two weeks ago I didn't know what an arbitration clause was, and now I know to deny it. Side note: I will never ever sign a contract without reading it again.


• For fun, a classmate and I argued for ten minutes about whether putting coins in a vending machine constitutes acceptance of an offer (is your pop tart a contract?). For FUN.


• I'm surrounded by hundreds of really, really intelligent people. While that is sometimes tough, it's also pretty neat. The law building is a gigantic steaming brain. Being a nerd has never been so normal.

As I wrote here, law school is a crazy, back-and-forth demon drop of a ride. Or it would be if the Demon Drop car was merged like this:




All of this is exquisitely appropriate for me, right now, in this place. It's hard, and it hurts and it's scary. But the guy on the platform checked my shoulder straps and they seem to be locked.

It's because of the unfreezing process

[Please see my original post here.]

You know what? Law school is freaking HARD.

I was pretty naive when I [wrote this post]. Probably I still am. In that previous post I wrote about the academic difficulties that law school brought. I still maintain that studying law requires brain cells that I didn't even know I had (and some I'm not sure I'll ever find). The learning is incredibly tough. But the other thing that's threatening to destroy many of the students in my class is, well, the students in my class.

See, we're all pretty smart. We passed the LSAT and everything. Even got accepted into law school.

Now put all of us in a lecture hall together and see how long we last.

I think I'm may be somewhere near the middle of the pack. I know I'm not going to top out the curve, but I'm pretty sure I won't be at the bottom. I'd love to be number 1 but I don't believe that's going to happen. While I'm not thrilled to be law-school average, I've had worse things in my life. But, see, that's the really tough part about law school: it's excruciating because I'm faced with my shortcomings every single day. Everyone in my class is really smart and even though I work veryveryveryvery hard it seems that the commentators hecklers inner monologue law school gods are rooting for the other guy.

Oho! You think you understand UCC 2-207? You don't know how very wrong you are. Muahaha. But that guy sitting two rows behind you? He's all OVER 2-207. And the woman behind him? She's got 2-207 DOWN and she can recite all rules relating to express and implied warranties. You think you "get" the rules for cases that arise under federal law? Then explain to me why this plaintiff can sue that defendent on a state law claim in New Hampshire when the plaintiff's well-pleaded complaint involves a tort with an embedded federal issue but the case STILL can't make it to federal court. Now tell me why the defendant may have it removed to federal court and how she would go about doing that. Now recite 2-207 again.

Still think you're smart? Because if you do the person sitting in the back snickering might have another thing to say about it. And if you don't think you're smart the person beside that person will probably be the first to agree with you.

This isn't just [about the curve], though that stupid curve does mess with us. It's more about the competitive nature of law students and the discovery that "oh, dear. I'm not the smartest person in the class." It's about insecurities and egos and even though it's great to be surrounded by a large number of really intelligent people it sometimes sucks to be surrounded by a large number of really competitive really intelligent people. In that, it's a lot like [this thing I posted a week ago]. It's a love/hate/love/hate kind of thing.

I suppose if it were different it wouldn't be law school.