A little Billy Collins?

Billy Collins is the preeminent poet in the US these days. He was poet laureate of the US from 2001-2003 (and was replaced by Ted Kooser, who's good fun as well) and writes simply about things people can actually, gasp, relate to. I know, practical thought and poetry usually go together about as well as Ant and a tree hugger circumnavigating the world together in a Cessna without deodorant, but I find Collins often writes on things I've thought about before. I was reading Picnic, Lightning last night and came across Marginalia, a poem about writing things in the margins of reading paper. I'm an unconventional margin-writer (I range from "Oh no you didn't!" to "Shut up" to arrows connecting sections of text that I think should be connected by something more textual than arrows) and I thought this poem codified some of the more interesting margin-thoughts:

Marginalia

Sometimes the notes are ferocious,
skirmishes against the author
raging along the borders of every page
in tiny black script.
If I could just get my hands on you,
Kierkegaard, or Conor Cruise O'Brien,
they seem to say,
I would bolt the door and beat some logic into your head.

Other comments are more offhand, dismissive -
"Nonsense." "Please!" "HA!!" -
that kind of thing.
I remember once looking up from my reading,
my thumb as a bookmark,
trying to imagine what the person must look like
why wrote "Don't be a ninny"
alongside a paragraph in The Life of Emily Dickinson.

Students are more modest
needing to leave only their splayed footprints
along the shore of the page.
One scrawls "Metaphor" next to a stanza of Eliot's.
Another notes the presence of "Irony"
fifty times outside the paragraphs of A Modest Proposal.

Or they are fans who cheer from the empty bleachers,
Hands cupped around their mouths.
"Absolutely," they shout
to Duns Scotus and James Baldwin.
"Yes." "Bull's-eye." "My man!"
Check marks, asterisks, and exclamation points
rain down along the sidelines.

And if you have managed to graduate from college
without ever having written "Man vs. Nature"
in a margin, perhaps now
is the time to take one step forward.

We have all seized the white perimeter as our own
and reached for a pen if only to show
we did not just laze in an armchair turning pages;
we pressed a thought into the wayside,
planted an impression along the verge.

Even Irish monks in their cold scriptoria
jotted along the borders of the Gospels
brief asides about the pains of copying,
a bird signing near their window,
or the sunlight that illuminated their page-
anonymous men catching a ride into the future
on a vessel more lasting than themselves.

And you have not read Joshua Reynolds,
they say, until you have read him
enwreathed with Blake's furious scribbling.

Yet the one I think of most often,
the one that dangles from me like a locket,
was written in the copy of Catcher in the Rye
I borrowed from the local library
one slow, hot summer.
I was just beginning high school then,
reading books on a davenport in my parents' living room,
and I cannot tell you
how vastly my loneliness was deepened,
how poignant and amplified the world before me seemed,
when I found on one page

A few greasy looking smears
and next to them, written in soft pencil-
by a beautiful girl, I could tell,
whom I would never meet-
"Pardon the egg salad stains, but I'm in love."

That looks so familiar...

The NYTimes did a story about the part of Michigan JP just excursioned to via sailboat. My two colleagues and I spent a night at South Manitou Island and three nights in Leland (fishtown!). Idyllic places.

Mr. McDade, here is your asshole on a platter

From Above the Law (I don't know that anything else needs to be said... David McDade is a county DA).

Yummy Buffet

Lunch today was at Madison's fine Chinese dining establishment the Yummy Buffet with Senor Horseinator and Dr. Nugz. It's our third or fourth trip there, so we know what to expect: $6 for all the Chinese food we can scarf down. You have to leave room for the Chinese doughnuts, too, because those things are $$$.

There were some highlights: We observed a gay guy who was trapped in the 80's, all the way down to the mullet and teal polo shirt tucked into jean shorts; There was a woman about to give an interview in front of a camera who definitely had more of a radio face (Dr. Nugz pointed out that he never knew the camera could add ten pounds merely by standing next to it); We also saw three French people eating at the YB. I have a feeling their French/English dictionary probably did not help them pick a quality restaurant.

I'd write more but I've had the runs ever since I ate my first plate at the YB (I actually had to use the little boy's room before I left), so I'm gonna hunker down in the stall in the office for a while. That place is like WD-40 for my bowels. You guys keep it real.

PIMBY

Even though property is a five-credit class that every second-semester law student at JP's prestigious law school must take, there is only one rule for the whole semester (unless you have a TA, in which case there are no rules, or lots of rules, or one rule that nobody knows any of the rules, TA included, so even rule-status is totally rule-less): NIMBY. People don't want bad shit in their backyard.

However, there's a proposal to build a huge park in Madison near JP's apartment. In honor of that wonderful idea, I'm creating PIMBY (Please, In My BackYard) theory. I want Madison's central park to be located right near East Baldwin where that picture's taken, and I want there to be all sorts of sweet stuff going on IMBY.

Causation

After reading this article about Hybrids on Slate, the JP was a little distressed by some causation problems in the argument.

The title is "Is our family annoying because we own a Prius?" I firmly believe that no, your family is annoying because you're a bunch of hippie d-bags. You also bought the Prius because you're a bunch of hippie d-bags. So we have one cause (being hippie d-bags) and two effects (sucking and owning a hybrid).

Oh oh oh! I can hear the chorus of smelly-ass tree huggers now: Only hippie d-bags buy Prius'? Yes. Or at least 57% percent of them.

According to a marketing survey (which the Times ran in a graphic I couldn't hide from), more buyers bought the Prius this year because it "makes a statement about me" (57 percent) than because of its better gas mileage (36 percent) or lower carbon dioxide emissions (25 percent) or new technology (7 percent).

57% of Prius owners bought the damn car because it makes a statement about them. What statement? That you're a hippie d-bag. QED.

There is a subtitle that I would like to quickly address as well: "Is my hybrid turning my kids into eco-snobs?" Anyone see where this is going? Your hybrid isn't turning your kids into anything. It's, gasp, YOU! YOU are turning your kids into hippie d-bag eco-snobs and you have to go as far as writing an article on Slate to rationalize your total demolition of your children's social future (which, I assume, some observation and a little forecasting recently made clear to you was the case) and blame it on your car.

This message was brought to you by JP's recently-acquired distaste for environmental law.

Case of the week

I originally thought about making this the case of the day, but then I finished the article, and I think it's COTW worthy.

In New Tampa, Florida, they have a nice little Little League. However, as is the zeitgeist, unruly parents muddling up the games with their yelling has been an issue. So they assigned "directors" to be at the games to politely ask any non-politely behaving "adults" to leave the field.

Fred Grady is a partner at Holland & Knight in Tampa dealing primarily with construction law and, self-proclaiming, sports law (and, judging from the picture and the upcoming story, he seems to get his hands deep into douchebag law as well). Well, one day Fred allegedly knocked his own kid in the head with a water bottle and was caught by the on-duty director Linda Harrell. She asked him to leave the premises, and, after a brief appeal to another director, Grady put his tail between his legs and peaced out.

And now he's suing for defamation. He claims Harrell humiliated him in front of fellow parents and clients (?!) and wants money from the Little League to make him whole.

The league president is not amused:

"We have over 1,000 children in our league where our goal is to build self-esteem, character and strong citizenship," Wooden said. "I guess we should have added Fred to the list of children."

She is siding with Harrell, who Wooden says had no choice but to act quickly. Wooden says she wishes Grady were more concerned with the children and less about himself.

"If Fred wants to use his firm and his power and put pressure on New Tampa Little League, so be it," Wooden said. "It's just annoying with all the things I need to deal with. ... Come to me if it has something to do with the kids, to make this park better."

The JP had a not-too-dissimilar incident a few weeks ago in a soccer game that resulted in a red card for language (you think those dissents were strong, you should see me cuss out an improper arbiter), and while it's totally ok (and often quite fun) to humiliate someone who makes bad decisions at a sporting event, even this litigator stops a step short of suing the league.

By the way Holland & Knight, this is really shitty press for you guys.

Parking spots that cost more than the house

For serious. There are people who will pay $225,000 for a parking spot. Of course, these people are also paying $2.2 million for a 2 bedroom condo. It works out to $1,500/square foot for the parking spot and $1,281/square foot for the condo itself. These numbers do seem a big outrageous to us Midwesterners, perhaps because the exchange rate between NYC and Wisconsin is about 2:1 ($2 in NYC is worth $1 in Wisconsin).

You'll be glad to hear that SCOTUS has sent an emissary, Clarince T, to the dreaded pits of NYC to see if he comes back alive, and, if yes, to report on the crazy conditions there. Then, we'll all sit around drinking some traditional Wisconsin beverages and discuss whether or not to move the court there. The Big T has been feeling a little cooped-up since the 5-4 decision (right before Sammy and Robby) to move SCOTUS to Wisconsin (Ant's dissent was an itemized bill for his moving expenses; what a piece of shit!), and he's trying to convince us that there's proverbial gold in them there smog clouds. The JP is not budging.

Child Stars turning 18 is a big deal?

I hadn't really thought about it until I read this article about Daniel Radcliffe, aka Hawwy Pawtah, who turns 18 later this month and is dismissive of accounts that he's about to go wild and crazy. JP doesn't really know how kids go wild these days, but I figure he's going to celebrate his newly-realized ability to legally contract and sign a whole bunch of deals?

The Surgeon General Mess

Basically, Bush's former surgeon general Richard Carmona says that he got a lot of orders from the White House. The NYTimes article contains a $$$ quote:

"And administration officials even discouraged him from attending the Special Olympics because, he said, of that charitable organization’s longtime ties to a “prominent family” that he refused to name.

“I was specifically told by a senior person, ‘Why would you want to help those people?’ ” Dr. Carmona said."

Why would you want to help the Special Olympics athletes (who don't like to be called Special Olympians)? I'm with Cartman here: "You guys, I can't believe they exploit handicapped people like this. I mean, making them compete against each other just for our amusement."

Olympics Registration Volunteer: Hello there.
Cartman's Mom: Hello. Um, I would like to sign my son up, please.
Cartman: (acting retarded) DUUUUUUH!
Olympics Registration Volunteer: Oh,great! What's his name?
Cartman's Mom: Eric...Cartman
Cartman: (acting retarded) CAAAARTMAN! DUUUUH!
Olympics Registration Volunteer: Okay, age?
Cartman's Mom: He's 9.
Olympics Registration Volunteer: Okay, and what's his disability?
Cartman's Mom: Um, he's retarded.
Olympics Registration Volunteer: No, I'm asking what specific condition he has. Downs Syndrome, celebral palsy?
Cartman's Mom: Oh, oh! Um, I'm not sure. Sweetie, what's your condition?
Cartman: (in his normal voice) How should I know? I'm retarded. (Acting retarded again) DUUUH!
Olympics Registration Volunteer: I'll just leave that blank for now.

Cosi

The honorable JP enjoyed lunch at Cosi today with his co-clerk Senor Horseinator. I'd only been there once before and wasn't a big fan, because I thought it was too expensive, too small-portioned and a bit haughty for my down-to-earth tastes. The first two flaws are killer: If I feel like I'm paying too much money to eat too little food, I probably won't be back for at least eight months, if ever.

This trip was a little better, but I don't know that I'll ever go back. The sandwiches are too dry for me, and the bread they go on and on about seems to me to be perpetually a little stale. They give you a choice between potato chips and baby carrots for sides, which, as my colleague pointed out, was one of the sillier questions he'd been asked in his life. They're trying to seem natural and organic and shit, but I personally just wish they'd give me more food.

The one real upside to Cosi? Apparently it appeals to attractive women. The JP saw him some fine, fine tail over the lunch hour, and, like I always go to Thursday Ladies' Night at the dive to examine the scenery, I may have to return to Cosi in search of my future wife. Although, to be fair, it seems to attract a fairly high-maintenance crowd, and since that's not really my style, maybe I should target the girl who loves her some Chipotle. In the restaurant world, Chipotle is Zeus, Jupiter, He-Man and Captain Statute all rolled into one big ball of deliciousness. If I'm ever caught referring to the Holy Grail of Sustenance, you'll know which burrito I'm talkin' about.

A Lone Minority

Check out the school diversity stats here and tell me who you think the token student is.

The Anti-Fun Pill

The pharmaceutical community has really done it now. Their pill designed to help people quit smoking may also make drinking less rewarding. JP can't wait for the pill that makes cleaning the house and doing the laundry feel like extended tantric sex experiences. Or, better yet, instead of the 20th century obsession with actually playing sports, you can just pop a pill, sit on your couch, and feel like you're on the mound in the bottom of the ninth for your favorite team. Are the drug companies starting to encroach on the video game companies?

Sprinter with two amputated legs?

It's for serious. Oscar Pistorious runs on Cheetah (tm) blades, has broken the 100, 200 and 400 Paralympic records, and Sunday is now going to run against the best four-appendaged sprinters in the world.

JP usually doesn't get too excited about disabled athletes, but the amazing part about this guy is his personal best time: 46.56 seconds for 400 meters. If you don't know much about track, that's hauling some serious tail. The school record at the small Division III undergraduate institution JP calls his alma mater is 48.34, nearly two full seconds behind the dude with no legs. The UW Badger school record is 45.63, and Pistorious' time would put him sixth on the all-time UW list. Pretty amazing.

Sushi

JPS took a nice lunch at Wasabi today with colleagues Hubert J. Nugz and ODog. Prompted by AKen's sheepish email about this article on sushi, the JP became hungry and started craving him some fatty-ass fish. As Hubert points out, the sushi will not eat itself. Also, the hot waitress in the short skirt will not stare at herself: Good thing we were there.

When I drink alone

I prefer to be by myself. The Onion is apparently mocking the idea of the one person, one six-pack "party". They obviously weren't in JPS' house this weekend while his roommate was out of town. It was like the conflation of Risky Business and White Men Can't Jump, if each of those movies only had one actor, and it was the great JPS, and he was wasted.

Above the Law

If you've never checked out Above the Law, it's worth a few seconds of your work-time wasting. Basically, it's a self-described legal tabloid with a great technique for digging up dirt. They hear about a story, post it on their site, and ask anyone who reads it and has ever known any of the story's actors to write in and tell them all sorts of bad shit about the person in question. Since the legal world is relatively small and incestuous (except at Wisconsin, where lawcest is strongly discouraged (most of the time)), they normally get all sorts of great stuff on people getting trashed already in the media.

Meet Peter Barta. A Legal Aid defense lawyer, Barta placed cameras hidden in desk clocks on female co-workers' desks and downloaded the stream at nights in hope, allegedly, of catching them changing clothes. The story broke in New York's Daily News and Post, but under the constraints of decent journalism, they were unable to print the really nasty stuff people say about this dude.

Enter ATL. In just a few days, they have a veritable feast of hysterically mean things people told them about Mr. Barta, including his pick-up lines, high school debating history, and place of residency (with mom). JP, ever clean and sacrosanct as a freshly-carved gavel, does get a kick out of watching other people get totally punk'd on the net.

Not the trees!

They're taking down six more trees around Capital square to make room for a wider sidewalk. All in all, about thirty trees are cut down and fifty-six will be replanted.

Of course, since this is Madison, the tree huggers are coming out of the woodwork complaining about the lack of attention they receive without these particular trees to hug.

Ledell Zellers, president of Capitol Neighborhoods Inc., said downtown residents, in particular, are not happy with what they see as the cavalier treatment of trees by governmental entities and developers.

"There sure is a lot of frustration out there," she said.

Zellers said the trees on the Square provided beauty and shade.

"We won't see ones that size in our lifetime," she said.

Yup, Zellers will never see trees that size in her lifetime...

Why aren't people up in arms when large buildings are destroyed? Can you really say that a tree is more natural than a building? Humans are natural, humans make buildings, therefore buildings are natural. Quoth the honorable Dr. Hubert J. Nugz, are you going to say a tangerine is less natural than a lemon or an orange?

Jury duty

Ever since I was appointed to the Supreme Court in 1975, non-lawyer friends of mine have been asking me about jury duty. Do I have to go? How do I get out of it? Why is Judge Shabaz falling asleep? I tell them yes, you have to go, but if you really don't want to serve, you'll get a chance to answer a few questions to convince one lawyer or the other that you're not the dude/dudette for the part.

This guy didn't get the memo:

"You say on your form that you're not a fan of homosexuals," Nickerson said.

"That I'm a racist," Ellis interrupted.

"I'm frequently found to be a liar, too. I can't really help it," Ellis added.

"I'm sorry?" Nickerson said.

"I said I'm frequently found to be a liar," Ellis replied.

"So, are you lying to me now?" Nickerson asked.

"Well, I don't know. I might be," was the response.

Ellis then admitted he really didn't want to serve on a jury.

"I have the distinct impression that you're intentionally trying to avoid jury service," Nickerson said.

"That's true," Ellis answered.

Nickerson ordered Ellis taken into custody. He was released later Monday morning.

Ellis could face perjury and other charges.

I didn't think you could get a perjury charge at jury duty. For one, that appears to be a blatant overuse of the word 'jury'; second, what should the dude who's actually a racist homophobe have said? The judge probably saw this guy being a snarkface and threw the book at him, but what if a judge just didn't credit your intense homophobia or racism? Can a juror perjure de jure?

Nolan found?

In Oregon, WI? Looks like the cops had a whole lot more information than the rest of us: "Monday morning, police had focused their search for Nolan on a 3-square-mile area immediately north of the village of Oregon, just off Highway 14. DeSpain said that he was not aware of any specific suspects in Nolan’s disappearance and that the area was one of several areas identified during the investigation as worth searching."

Impossible to know what to make of it, although I think making light of the fact that she was out drinking beforehand gives rise to the inference that she somehow brought it upon herself. The ol' JP has done more than his fair share of stupid ass shit when wasted, but I do think basic instincts can withstand even a serious alcoholic barrage. It also becomes an opportune time to commit a violent crime on someone, since not only will their reflexes be a little down, they will also be considered contributorily negligent, in a way, for anything that happens to them. Let the drinkers drink, the criminals crime, and the cops keep a tight patrol on BB Clarke between the hours of 11pm-2am: That's been a hotbed of illegal raft-diving activity in the past few weeks.

A quote I remembered while spacing out for an hour after lunch

Bob Slydell: You see, what we're actually trying to do here is, we're trying to get a feel for how people spend their day at work... so, if you would, would you walk us through a typical day, for you?

Peter Gibbons: Yeah.

Bob Slydell: Great.

Peter Gibbons: Well, I generally come in at least fifteen minutes late, ah, I use the side door - that way Lumbergh can't see me, heh heh - and, uh, after that I just sorta space out for about an hour.

Bob Porter: Da-uh? Space out?

Peter Gibbons: Yeah, I just stare at my desk; but it looks like I'm working. I do that for probably another hour after lunch, too. I'd say in a given week I probably only do about fifteen minutes of real, actual, work. IMDB

A Cookie Pickle

As should be evident, I love cookies. I like them for breakfast, after lunch or with coffee before oral arguments. Since moving to town two years ago, I have been looking for the perfect cookie. The cookie should be: fresh (preferably baked on-site), chewy if appropriate to the cookie type, cheap, and unassuming. Nothing is worse than a cookie that takes itself too seriously.

A summary of the search:
Espresso Royale - Plus: Camp. Minus: Expensive and never chewy.
Einstein Bros - Plus: Chewy. Minus: Pretentious, produced and shipped in bulk.
Potbelly's - Plus: Chewy, taste pretty good. Minus: Still a chain. Baking site unclear.
Sunroom - Plus: Sold from the same counter as other food which is delicious. Minus: Hard and gross. Especially the orange ones dipped in chocolate.
Electric Earth - Plus: A wide variety of interesting and crazy people always nearby--will share cookies. Minus: Suspiciously healthy tasting.
Kitchen Hearth - Plus: Ok. Minus: Too big and too sweet. Bigness leads to awkward crunchy:chewy ratio.
Steep N Brew - Plus: Sometimes really good peanut butters. Minus: Sugary, and hit or miss. Everything else is gross.

One sunny autumn day, an unlikely hero entered the scene. Fuddruckers. You may think of it as an overpriced, vegetarian-unfriendly hamburger chain, and it is, but none of those drawbacks seem to affect their kitschy cookie-making skillz. Try, for example:
Chocolate-drizzled macaroons: Baked to a golden brown but still chewy on the inside.
Chocolate chunk cookies: Not chips, but dark chunks of chocolate in a rich, chewy cookie that is never quite circular.
Sugar cookies: My favorite. They could easily have been made by your youngest cousin from an old and foolproof family recipe. And then he frosted them. Not iced, frosted.

Best of all, you can get three cookies for just over a dollar.

Earlier this summer, I was making an afternoon coffee run and decided to stop by Fuddruckers. Blissful with anticipation, I pulled on the door. It wouldn't open. Frowning, I pulled harder. A homeless man at the bus stop starting laughing maniacally, like the clown who had been standing next to Pee Wee's bike when it was stolen. "Wahahaha! You got punked! Hahahaha!"

Alas, my dollar once a week had failed to keep Fuddruckers afloat. This is such a sad story I can't stand to reread it to check for proper hyphenation of adjectives. Let me know if you find a delicious cookie within walking distance of my office.

And on the third day, God created the IRS

so lawyers would always have big paychecks. Have you ever tried to work with their site to get simple instructions on simple procedures? Since the Supreme Court is in recess and JP thrives off the fruits of justice, I'm clerking in a small office for the summer, and they asked me to look up a retirement account question. Not a question like "does space 66b in form 492 require you to take into account space 12 in form 5000?", just "how do you end one?" Is there a simple answer?

No. In fact, its been recommended to me several times to consult an attorney. After consulting myself extensively, I still have no answer, and the guy around the corner thinks I'm a total nutjob. JPS has never claimed to be an expert in matters taxable, but for crying out loud, would simple explanations useful for someone who slept through T&E be that hard to make? As soon as I get my clerks for OT 2007, I will take over the world *evil laughter, hands next to each other touching fingertips quickly consecutively*.

Bank Robbery Exam Question

Does the following behavior satisfy the "force, violence or intimidation" requirement of 18 U.S.C. 2113(a)? In your response, include a description of how a reasonable bank teller would feel.

Robber Disguised As Tree Hits N. H. Bank
(CBS) MANCHESTER, N.H. Leaf it to New Hampshire, where a bank branch was held up by a man disguised as a tree. Just as the Citizen Bank branch [ha!] opened Saturday morning, a man walked in with branches duct-taped to his head and body, and robbed the place, reports CBS station WBZ-TV in Boston. "He really went out on a limb," police Sgt. Ernie Goodno said Sunday. He did not show a weapon and he left with an undisclosed amount of cash. Police released surveillance photos of the bizarre robbery. Although the branches and leaves obscured much of the man's face, someone who saw images from the bank's security camera recognized the robber and called police.That anonymous tip led them to 49-year-old James Coldwell of Manchester. He was arrested at his home late Saturday night. Arraignment was not expected until Monday.

http://cbs3.com/national/topstories_story_190080809.html

Pennsylvania takes a page out of France's book and...

shuts down their government? The problem here isn't anarchy, it's partialarchy: Governor Ed Rendell shut down all services not essential to health or safety, so people trying to get, say, a driver's license, are SOL:

Outside one driver's licensing station, University of Pittsburgh student Dandan Hong, 21, found out from security guards that she would have to wait to get her permit -- the office was closed. She had been cramming for the test and leaves on vacation in two days.
"I didn't know about it until I got here," she said. "I don't know how I'm going to get my permit."

If Mr. Rendell's really going to try to be a big man around PA, he has to shut down all governmental functions: If Hong can't get a driver's license, who cares? There aren't any cops for awhile.

I can see my devoted readership (hi Graham!) looking at the JP funny now.

Security Warning

Have you seen the Visa commercial with the woman shopping and she says Visa called her husband because there were suspicious charges on their card from France, but meanwhile, she was shopping up a storm in Paris? I think the marketing department tested this commercial on people who believe in God, or alternatively, Visa. Visa, it turns out, doesn't really care about cardholder security, and they apparently only check on suspicious charges when they're legitimate.

I recently discovered some suspicious charges on my credit card statement from AOL, which may or may not be from another country--Visa told me that there is no way to tell. I called AOL to see what they could be for, as no person should pay them for services every other company provides for free. Anyhow, an account was started with a username kind of like my name, but definitely not by me. This made me worried. They assured me that they would deactivate the account and send me some sort of affidavit in the mail. I called my credit card company to tell them about the scandal, and they said "ok." They only had the name of the vendor and the date of the charge on file.
So I said: can you find out where the charge originated from? Like, was it from another country, because I was traveling during this time and am concerned that someone at the Buenos Aires airport has my credit card number.
Visa: Nope, we can't tell any of that.
Me: Don’t you have some kind of fraud department that deals with unauthorized charges, or oh, I don’t know, stolen identities?
Visa: No, no, you have to call the vendor directly. We can’t do anything.

I am not kidding you. Those commercials are a steamy pile of crap.

So, back to AOL, who reiterated that they are sending me an affidavit so I won’t have to pay the $9.95 I was charged.
Me: I’m not so much concerned about the $9.95, I’m more concerned that someone has stolen my credit card and/or identity, and just want to know where the purchase originated from. Don’t you keep track of purchaser’s IP addresses?
AOL: No. We are sending the affidavit and that’s all we can do.
Me: First of all, you’re an Internet company.
AOL: Yep.
Me: But you can’t tell me where the purchase came from?
AOL: Right.
Me: Can you tell me the phone number listed on my account?
AOL: No. Mumbling somethings about security.
Me: Umm, but it's my account. Are you effin kidding me?
AOL: Nope, not kidding. They literally start yelling about the affidavit.
I hang up.

Scalia is the only person who cares about your security. Don't forget it.

Stanley Fish & Clarince T: Meet Bob Dylan

Stanley Fish is talking about State v. Bong Hits over at NYTSelect. Having read some Fish back in undergrad when JPS fancied himself literary, I was really shocked by Fish's stance (apologies for the long blockquote):

But Justice Clarence Thomas isn’t having any. He concurs with the majority in its holding for Principal Morse, but he rejects the context within which both the majority and the minority make their points. In short, he rejects Tinker and the idea that schoolchildren have any First Amendment rights at all. Why? Because “originally understood, the Constitution does not afford students a right to free speech in public schools.”

***

As do I. If I had a criticism of Thomas, it would be that he does not go far enough. Not only do students not have first amendment rights, they do not have any rights: they don’t have the right to express themselves, or have their opinions considered, or have a voice in the evaluation of their teachers, or have their views of what should happen in the classroom taken into account. (And I intend this as a statement about college students as well as high-school students.)

One reason that students (and many others) have come to believe that they have these rights is a confusion between education and democracy. It is in democratic contexts that people have claims to the rights enumerated in the constitution and other documents at the heart of our political system – the right to free speech, the right to free assembly, the right to determine, by vote, the shape of their futures.

Educational institutions, however, are not democratic contexts (even when the principles of democracy are being taught in them). They are pedagogical contexts and the imperatives that rule them are the imperatives of pedagogy – the mastery of materials and the acquiring of analytical skills. Those imperatives do not recognize the right of free expression or any other right, except the right to competent instruction, that is, the right to be instructed by well-trained, responsible teachers who know their subjects and stick to them and don’t believe that it is their right to pronounce on anything and everything.

What this means is that teachers don’t have First Amendment rights either, at least while they are performing as teachers. Away from school, they have the same rights as anyone else. In school, they are just like their students, bound to the protocols of the enterprise they have joined. That enterprise is not named democracy and what goes on within it – unless it is abuse or harassment or assault – should not rise to the level of constitutional notice or any other notice except the notice of the professional authorities whose job it is to keep the educational machine running smoothly.

UPDATE: I had added commentary, but I don't think it is necessary.

Let's play dress-up!

JP rarely takes an interest in trials (I'm more of an appellate guy, because it sounds like 'spell it') but the Jose Padilla courtroom caught even my decrescendo-ing attention. Padilla's on trial for looking and sounding like a terrorist, while his defense team argues that he's in fact a Muslin liberator around the world... just not in the US.

Luckily, because Mr. Padilla is in the United States, he has a constitutional right to a jury of his peers:

Several times now, the five women and seven men [of the jury] have shown up in color-coordinated outfits. One day, the men dressed in blue and the women in pink. On July 3, the first row wore red, the second white and the third blue, leading bloggers to wonder whether they were worrisomely frivolous or unified — or so patriotic as to condemn all accused terrorists.

If I'm Padilla and the jury shows up in red, white and blue, I move for a mistrial on the grounds that the fact-finders in my case can't dress themselves without consensus...

Beerpretiation

Like my esteemed colleague Clarince T, there was a time when the great JPS did not cherish imbibing brewskies. Now I derive all the sustenance I require by consuming the low-hanging fruits beckoning to me from the orchards of justice, but when I was knee-high to the Federal Reporters, my less-judicious friends urged me to partake in this beer. When the Old Style first touched my lips, it felt like a million 5-4 decisions had just gone against me. When I informed my comrades of the foulness of their beverage, they bade me drink another, since beer's chemical structure apparently changes depending on how many you've had. I learned an important lesson that night: Beer drinking accumulates both daily and for a lifetime; nobody loves the taste more than an old wasted chronic drunkard.

I've been on the bench since 1975, and I'd be lying if I told you I'd never snuck some ice cold refreshment into the hallowed courtroom under my robe. Before environmental cases, Kennedy even comes into the locker room with a bottle of scotch and makes all nine justices drink it neat until it's gone. He thinks it's the only way to really enjoy files that arrive at the court in a U-Haul. Me? Give me the PBR all day and all night.