A music experiment

Finals period is here. Though this means that I am spending a huge proportion of time studying, it also means I am spending an even greater proportion of time than normal procrastinating. Today this quest for procrastination led me to my ipod search bar and I learned some very interesting, if not at all surprising, things.

Songs on my ipod that have the following words in their titles:

Love - 451 songs
Happy - 48 songs
Sleep - 52 songs
Free - 35 songs (including A Distorted Reality is now a Necessity to be Free, by Elliott Smith. I'll let you make the law school link on your own)
Life - 117 songs
Sex - 25 songs

Law - 5 songs (but one is called Sex Laws... so it might get canceled out)
Test - 1 song
Fail - 6 songs
Corporate - 1 song (Regina Spektor's The Ghost of Corporate Future - AKA death and my final on Tuesday)
Shareholder - 1 song (Maria Taylor's One for the Shareholder - random, right? I definitely did not expect any song titles to include this word!)
Study - 0 SONGS!!!!

Notice how these are organized by theme? And notice how many, MANY more artists are inspired by things like love.. happiness.. and even sleep than law, finals, and corporations? WEIRD. Who would have guessed, right?

Also of note: the word Elephant appears in 8 song titles. EIGHT. I own more songs about elephants than about law. I don't even know what that means but I can bet you I will spend more time pondering the implications of this statistic than studying for this awful exam.

A brief hello, and then hibernation

You might have noticed that I have been less than stellar about updating this blog 2L year. Or for those of you who didn't notice let me fill you in: I have not updated this blog at all 2L year. Whoops.

So why did this happen? I would be inclined to say that it's because my classes no longer involve their share of ridiculous cases but that's just not true. Well, perhaps that is true for Corporations. However, I can barely wrap my head around just one of those cases let alone deconstruct it in a humorous fashion. It could be that those cases are funny on a whole different level (like the level that sits way above my head) but if they are, you will not get the pleasure of chuckling about it here.

Anyway, I think the reason I have been delinquent in writing this blog is because I have been busy reading other blogs. And newspapers. And online magazines. And (fill in the internet-related blank here). Yes, "my friends," it was election season and if I could have gotten credits for the amount of reading I did on Obama, McCain, the public, the polls, and the ever-fascinating/terrifying Governor Palin, I think I could graduate a semester early. Now that the election is over, I've slowly been transitioning back into full-time student mode... just in time for finals and my hibernation of sorts. If only this was the sort of hibernation that involved sleep. Sadly, it is in fact the polar opposite. At least the election ended at a convenient time for this (and please note that that "convenience" is spiked with expresso and saturated with dread).

Moral of the story is, please do not hold your collective breath for the next entry. It will happen... but that might be next semester. If, however, you know anything about corporations... or dividends... or the bail out... please email me. Seriously. I am going to need all the help I can get. Because, despite my unettered optimism, questions about Sarah Palin's views from her Alaksan home will not be appearing on my final. Though I guess I can always hope...

A brilliant idea?

I have quite suddenly become the owner of an almost offensive number of lightbulbs. It all just happened so quickly; I had little time to consider the results of my actions and now I have a big Trader Joe's bag filled with 26 new bulbs. 26. Let's keep in mind that I have a studio apartment.

I was searching on Craigslist for a desk, preferably one that was for sale in my building (summer made me lazy). No luck with the desk but I DID find a posting for a big bag of lightbulbs in my building for only $5. I wouldn't even have to put on shoes. Ok, maybe that's an exageration. I did put on shoes. But if it was the winter, I would have had to put on a coat... and I did not need to do that! So there was definitely a feeling of accomplishment, perhaps akin to that a lion might feel if it snared its prey close to home without having to travel miles and miles through the grassland (and where the prey is more like dessert prey, as it wasn't reaaally necessary for survival but just a lucky break for the lion. Who finds 26 lightbulbs for $5 nowadays???).

So now I have a lot of lightbulbs. I feel like a quantifying screw-in joke's supply store.

Summer break did not affect my brain to such a degree that I believe this post constitutes anything remotely legal. But maybe it's a metaphor of sorts. Welcome to 2L year - I am supposed to have accumulated much wisdom and knowledge from my hard work as a 1L... but chances are I will rarely, if ever, open that bag now sitting in my closet. I hope I have a use for the bulbs... but if not, at least I now know I have them.

Welcome back to law school.

Christmas comes early at the Seattle Center

Dear friends,

It is a very good week.

As many of you know, last semester I was given an assignment as part of my legal writing class to write a brief representing the city of Seattle again Michael Berger AKA “Magic Mike.” To give you a basic overview, Magic Mike likes to perform outside at the Seattle Center but thinks that the permit system they have in place as well as the area restrictions on performances are a violation of his First Amendment rights (he can still perform, he just needs to pay $5 a year and stay 30 feet away from other Center attractions and captive audiences). It was hard to have a ton of sympathy for the guy though considering that the permit system was put into place based on complaints by members of the public and other performers and that 70% of these complaints were either about or BY Mike.

So without getting into more specifics, I’ll just say that few people, even members of the other class whose task it was to represent the balloon-wielding appellant, liked this guy. In fact, he sort of made our semesters hellish. So when I found out that I would be going to Seattle to work one of my old conferences after finals, I joked that I was going to hunt Mike down and give him a piece of my mind. I really like the idea of also giving him a stack of the 28 different briefs, going on a rant about the pain he caused us law students, and maybe wacking him with one of his own balloon creations. Maybe this would have been overly dramatic, but so is claiming severe emotional distress over restrictions on balloon artistry.

I went to Seattle and it was a terrific vacation/break from the east coast. I hiked a mountain with my friend, wandered through the city and drank coffee, found some good used bookstores, facilitated a conference to some great kids, and enjoyed some beautiful Seattle sunshine. Sunday was my last day in the city and after finishing up the conference my friends and I went into the city to wander. By the end of the night we found ourselves at the Seattle Center for the Northwest Folklife Festival. Totally random but awesome. Three big stages, thousands of people, tons of vendors – it was a huge event. At 10:30 the festival began to wind down and we started to make our way to an exit. My friends and I paused near a carousel to discuss the game plan for the rest of the night and that is when I turned around and saw him. The spongebob shirt. The balloon hat. I recognized the man immediately from his website and spun around, an ecstatic look on my face.

“THAT’S MAGIC MIKE!” I exclaimed in a loud whisper to my group confused non-law students. They didn’t really get why I was so psyched to see an old man in a balloon hat dressed up in a spongebob t-shirt but I didn’t let that phase me. All that mattered was that I had somehow stumbled upon the magician himself. I patiently waited my turn as he finished making a balloon sculpture for a little boy. As I watched him sit glumly and twist the balloons as people all headed past him for exits, it hit me how sad Magic Mike really is. He seemed so dejected, so out of it. I would not hire him for my child’s birthday party, that is for sure. But I did feel badly for him. All he wanted to do was to perform his tricks below the space needle. Had I gotten so into my role as Seattle’s lawyer that I had blinded myself to justice?

Finally the child left and I stepped up to Berger, as he's known in the legal world. I told him I was a law student and that we had done a project on his case. That was basically all I got to say. From then on, he just talked about his rights, about how the Center was ridiculous, about how he had all these problems, about how the ruling was expansive, about how he thinks this is dangerous for America. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I had actually represented the other side. But it seems he didn't really care what I thought anyway. I nodded along for a while before finally asking if I could just get a picture with him. We took the picture… and then he talked some more. I began to understand why the other performers had filed complaints about him. He might be sad but he was ALSO irritating. Finally I was able to get away as my group of friends was becoming more antsy and more confused at my interest in the random street performer. He called after me:

“Wait! I didn’t get your name!”

I told him my name... first name only though. I’ll admit it – I was a little nervous. Of what? I'm not sure. I'm still sort of worried that he'll use his powers to find THIS. He then lifted his massive balloon hat from his head, reached out, and handed it to me. It was big, colorful, and had a small red balloon flower hanging from the end like a carrot that tempts a cartoon runner. I protested, saying that it was ok, I was taking a flight the next day, etc, but he still gave it to me. Then he told me to tell my law school friends that he has set up a fund and that anything we can donate to him on his website would be good. He suggested “$1, $10, $100 or more.” Glad to see he has realistic expectations about law student bank accounts.

The next day at the airport, I tried to get the hat through security. They wouldn’t let me wear it, but I DID send it through the scanner. It actually got stuck in there and they had to fish it out in 3 pieces. I felt like this was an appropriate ending. Though I threw out the bulk of the balloon monstrosity before boarding my flight back home, I did keep the small red balloon flower. I like to think of it as a badge of honor; spoils from a hard fought war called 1L year.

Goodbye forever, Magic Mike. But thanks for the memories… and the balloons.

Attack by stingray

Last night I had a dream that I was on a boat in the middle of a very beautiful ocean. It was a stark contrast to the library and I liked it. However, I still had my laptop with me. Go figure.

No sooner did I have the chance to enjoy the view that I fell into the ocean.. with my laptop. I tried to hold it above my head and keep it away from the water while trying to tread and keep my own head above the waves... but I was not that successful. Someone jumped in to rescue me and when I got back onto the boat I eagerly opened the computer to see if it was ok. It was dry... but something was wrong.

The captain informed me that my laptop was ruined because a stingray had attacked and I guess shot out some poison? Do stingrays even shoot poison? Anyway, the Captain told me I was lucky I was not hurt. However, apparently THIS type of stingray gave you no hope of computer recovery.
"Really?!?" I asked desperately.
The captain shook his head sadly.
"This is the way of the ocean."

I looked at my computer. The screen was eerily blank and the keyboard was gone. Instead there was just weird brown haze over it, almost like it had been burned. Suddenly, the whole base peeled off and there were teeth and sticky things inside. Like innards. The screen turned on but it was all neon and looked like it was on some form of computer LSD.

I tried to think positively. Maybe my applecare would cover this! I did pay for the extra insurance!! But somehow I figured attack by stingray did not fall under the warranty...

And amid all this - the water, the attack, the teeth in the computer (???), I remember thinking "Well, at least I backed up my outlines yesterday"

Law school really does change the way you think.

Virtual Insanity

Back in college I had this *great* idea one day. I saw how there was a direct correlation between the amount of sleep I got and the crazier I became and I thought it would be an exciting social psychological experiment slash writing project to stay up for as long as I possibly could, keeping a journal the entire time. This idea was especially intriguing since I had recently learned in a psychology class that if you are up for something like 3 days straight you can be declared mentally insane. Now, after taking crim law I am not sure about that, but whatever. The point is, I thought the journal of progressing slap-happiness, once the experiment was complete, would be a terrific read.

What's the point of me sharing this memory? I'm starting to approach the time in the semester when studying is all you do. And when this happens I sort of start to go crazy in what I have to confess is a semi-enjoyable way. The studying is not enjoyable, the long hours locked in the library are far from enjoyable, but the affect on my brain is actually pretty fun.

The problem is, though this is an amusing side effect, it is NOT PRODUCTIVE and, in the end, I remember why I decided NOT to do that staying-awake experiment. Partially this was because I was never able to find a good time period to do the experiment since, being in college, I realized staying up for 3 days straight would put me out of commission for at least 4. But the main strikes against the project were the realizations that sleep is necessary and lunacy beyond a certain degree can be frightening. Unfortunately, since I am in law school, I now have no choice in the matter. So what can I do?

Embrace the craziness. It's the only answer.

There goes the weird defense

My Contracts study guide, on the basis and nature of contract voidability due to mental incapacity:

"The law does not excuse people from contractual obligations merely because they are of below average intelligence, misguided, or weird."

And you thought you had an out...

I've got a golden ticket... to a torts claim

So Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was on at the gym yesterday and as I watched I started to realize that I AM in fact learning to think like a lawyer... I guess a good sign, re my legal education. but a sad one re my ability to enjoy childhood movies.

For instance, I watched as Augustus Gloop greedily drank from the chocolate river and waited on edge for him to clumsily fall in, idiot that he is. I remember thinking how oafish and rude he was and that he deserved what he got. Hell, even the Oompa Loompas reaffirmed this thought as each child that did something selfish was punished one by one as the factory tour continued.

But here is the thing.

Wonka is totally liable, especially for the chocolate river fiasco. He was a social host in that he invited the ticket holders and their guests into his factory and so he owed his guests a standard of reasonable care. He should have foreseen the possibility that after telling his guests "everything is edible! Go ahead!" someone might attempt to drink from the river. "Oh, you mustn't contaminate my river! It must be untouched by human hands!" Well, it's a little too late for that, isn't it Wonka? There were no signs. There was no fence. I have to admit, I'm a little sympathetic to Augustus, especially since he was the first one to go and had no warning that things could go terribly wrong on this factory tour. PLUS he was one of the only foreigners. What's that about? I guess that's a side issue. My point is, while I really like Willy Wonka (and Roald Dahl), in an American court system Wonka would be negligently liable if any harm was caused to Augustus by being caught in those pipes for too long.

And what about Violet? Well, there was warning there with the gum and she ate it anyway. However, Wonka DID just sit idly by then and watch her chew. Maybe not the smartest legal move. Verruca? I'd say she became a trespasser once she went to get a goose (or squirrel, depending on which version you're watching) and yet it arguably constitutes an attractive nuisance for which an owner is liable towards children, even if the child was not originally attracted onto the premises by the condition that injures her. PLUS one who possesses animals not customarily domesticated in that region is strictly liable for all harm done by the animal as a result of a harmful or dangerous propensity or characteristic of such animals. If it is your animal's propensity to haul small children to their deaths, you miiiight be facing a lawsuit. And finally, Mike Teevee? Again, Wonka really didnt try to hard to protect that kid from the shrinking television rays of doom.

Overall, that factory was a major tort suit waiting to happen. I think if I ever become a torts professor, I will use it as my final exam. I wonder if anyone has ever tried that before....

Videos you can't watch in Oklahoma

So in 1979, a German language film called "The Tin Drum" received the Academy Award for best foreign language film. The court described it as "a complex allegorical fantasy intended to symbolize the rise of Nazism and the corresponding decline of morality in Nazi Germany." The main character decides to stop growing at the age of thee "in order to proect against the absurdities and obscenities of the adult world during the rise of Nazism."

This seems like a pretty fascinating movie to me and I'd like to watch it. The only downside? Turns out it involves what some might classify as child porn. Whoops. There seem to be scenes in which the main character and a woman, who are both supposed to be 16 but are played by an 11 year old and 24 year old, respectively, engage in "sexual activity." The boy also then observes some sex on a couch. How do we know about the details of these scenes? Well, a citizen complained to the Oklahoma City Police Department. The Major then contacted the Lieutenant who contacted the Sergeant who then WATCHED the movie and, distressed by the 3 scenes, then brought his copy of the video to the county courthouse to request judicial confirmation of his opinion that there was child pornography in the award winning film.

The judge agreed with the officers and so the Sergeant devised a plan that required the officers to go to all of the video stores in Oklahoma City that had the video in stock and ask employed to voluntarily relinquish their copies. What happened if copies were checked out? Why then, the officers would just get the person's name and address and pay them a little visit!

Note: When trying to round up copies of porn in Oklahoma, don't go directly to the house of the Development Director for the ACLU who has rented said film in order to formulate rebuttals and policy responses on behalf of the union. This is an especially bad idea when you DON'T HAVE A WARRANT. Not only will you end up engaging in a "great debate concerning the artistic merits" of the film that you might not be prepared for, you'll also be brought to court for violation of the Video Privacy Protection Act.

Want more details? Search for Camfield v. City of Oklahoma City. Or rent the film! Nothing says movie night quite like WWII + questionable porn + ensuing lawsuit.

Thirsty for a fighter jet? Don't drink Pepsi.

Back from break and this is a little of a late start, but I will try to be better about keeping this updated more regularly. It could just be that there has been a lack of humorous cases this semester - constitutional law doesnt provide fodder for comedy, it turns out. But the following case is truly ridiculous and will hopefully make up for the fact that I have abandoned this blog for a couple of months.

The case: Leonard v. Pepsico.
Pepsi was trying out a promotional campaign in the Pacific Northwest and aired a "Pepsi Stuff" commercial. Remember pepsi stuff? or coke stuff? Or jackets you could get advertising Marlboro? I guess a lot of this still; exists. Though no one will admit to owning any of it. Anyway, Pepsi had a commercial on tv unveiling this promotional campaign and some crazy man in Seattle decided to take Pepsi to court because the item he wanted was not ACTUALLY available. What did he want? Ohhhh just wait. The issue in the case is whether the commercial constituted a valid offer (welcome to Contracts).

I don't think I could do a better job than the facts section of the case in communicating the utter absurdity of this lawsuit, so I am going to be doing some cutting and pasting, for your enjoyment. It's long but I promise it's worth it. If you're intrigued and have a little time on your hands, the full case can be found here:
http://faculty.law.pitt.edu/madison/contracts/supplement/leonard_v_pepsico.htm

Because whether the television commercial constituted an offer is the central question in this case, the Court will describe the commercial in detail. The commercial opens upon an idyllic, suburban morning, where the chirping of birds in sun-dappled trees welcomes a paperboy on his morning route. As the newspaper hits the stoop of a conventional two-story house, the tattoo of a military drum introduces the subtitle, "MONDAY 7:58 AM." The stirring strains of a martial air mark the appearance of a well-coiffed teenager preparing to leave for school, dressed in a shirt emblazoned with the Pepsi logo, a red- white-and-blue ball. While the teenager confidently preens, the military drumroll again sounds as the subtitle "T-SHIRT 75 PEPSI POINTS" scrolls across the screen. Bursting from his room, the teenager strides down the hallway wearing a leather jacket. The drumroll sounds again, as the subtitle "LEATHER JACKET 1450 PEPSI POINTS" appears. The teenager opens the door of his house and, unfazed by the glare of the early morning sunshine, puts on a pair of sunglasses. The drumroll then accompanies the subtitle "SHADES 175 PEPSI POINTS." A voiceover then intones, "Introducing the new Pepsi Stuff catalog," as the camera focuses on the cover of the catalog.^[2]

The scene then shifts to three young boys sitting in front of a high school building. The boy in the middle is intent on his Pepsi Stuff Catalog, while the boys on either side are each drinking Pepsi. The three boys gaze in awe at an object rushing overhead, as the military march builds to a crescendo. The Harrier Jet is not yet visible, but the observer senses the presence of a mighty plane as the extreme winds generated by its flight create a paper maelstrom in a classroom devoted to an otherwise dull physics lesson. Finally, the Harrier Jet swings into view and lands by the side of the school building, next to a bicycle rack. Several students run for cover, and the velocity of the wind strips one hapless faculty member down to his underwear. While the faculty member is being deprived of his dignity, the voiceover announces: "Now the more Pepsi you drink, the more great stuff you're gonna get."

The teenager opens the cockpit of the fighter and can be seen, helmetless, holding a Pepsi. "[L]ooking very pleased with himself," (Pl. Mem. at 3,) the teenager exclaims, "Sure beats the bus," and chortles. The military drumroll sounds a final time, as the following words appear: "HARRIER FIGHTER 7,000,000 PEPSI POINTS." A few seconds later, the following appears in more stylized script: "Drink Pepsi--Get Stuff." With that message, the music and the commercial end with a triumphant flourish.

Inspired by this commercial, plaintiff set out to obtain a Harrier Jet. Plaintiff explains that he is "typical of the 'Pepsi Generation' . . . he is young, has an adventurous spirit, and the notion of obtaining a Harrier Jet appealed to him enormously." (Pl. Mem. at 3.) Plaintiff consulted the Pepsi Stuff Catalog. The Catalog features youths dressed in Pepsi Stuff regalia or enjoying Pepsi Stuff accessories, such as "Blue Shades" ("As if you need another reason to look forward to sunny days."), "Pepsi Tees" ("Live in 'em. Laugh in 'em. Get in 'em."), "Bag of Balls" ("Three balls. One bag. No rules."), and "Pepsi Phone Card" ("Call your mom!"). The Catalog specifies the number of Pepsi Points required to obtain promotional merchandise. . . . The Catalog includes an Order Form which lists, on one side, fifty-three items of Pepsi Stuff merchandise redeemable for Pepsi Points. Conspicuously absent from the Order Form is any entry or description of a Harrier Jet. The amount of Pepsi Points required to obtain the listed merchandise ranges from 15 (for a "Jacket Tattoo" ("Sew 'em on your jacket, not your arm.")) to 3300 (for a "Fila Mountain Bike" ("Rugged. All-terrain. Exclusively for Pepsi.")). It should be noted that plaintiff objects to the implication that because an item was not shown in the Catalog, it was unavailable.

The rear foldout pages of the Catalog contain directions for redeeming Pepsi Points for merchandise. These directions note that merchandise may be ordered "only" with the original Order Form. The Catalog notes that in the event that a consumer lacks enough Pepsi Points to obtain a desired item, additional Pepsi Points may be purchased for ten cents each; however, at least fifteen original Pepsi Points must accompany each order.

Although plaintiff initially set out to collect 7,000,000 Pepsi Points by consuming Pepsi products, it soon became clear to him that he "would not be able to buy (let alone drink) enough Pepsi to collect the necessary Pepsi Points fast enough." Reevaluating his strategy, plaintiff "focused for the first time on the packaging materials in the Pepsi Stuff promotion," and realized that buying Pepsi Points would be a more promising option. Through acquaintances, plaintiff ultimately raised about $700,000.

B. Plaintiff's Efforts to Redeem the Alleged Offer

On or about March 27, 1996, plaintiff submitted an Order Form, fifteen original Pepsi Points, and a check for $700,008.50. Plaintiff appears to have been represented by counsel at the time he mailed his check; the check is drawn on an account of plaintiff's first set of attorneys. At the bottom of the Order Form, plaintiff wrote in "1 Harrier Jet" in the "Item" column and "7,000,000" in the "Total Points" column. In a letter accompanying his submission, plaintiff stated that the check was to purchase additional Pepsi Points "expressly for obtaining a new Harrier jet as advertised in your Pepsi Stuff commercial." . . .

Congrats if you made it this far. It's me again, not the court. I know it seems like I am avoiding writing an actual post by doing all this quoting, but come on... who comes up with this stuff? For example:
"The implication of the commercial is that Pepsi Stuff merchandise will inject drama and moment into hitherto unexceptional lives"
or
"the callow youth featured in the commercial is a highly improbable pilot, one who could barely be entrusted with the keys to his parents' car, much less the prize aircraft of the United States Marine Corps"

Were you wondering how much Pepsi 7,000,000 points actually amounts to? Don't worry, the court does the math for you:
"To amass that number of points, one would have to drink 7,000,000 Pepsis (or roughly 190 Pepsis a day for the next hundred years--an unlikely possibility)"

Thirsty? Drink up. But no Harrier Jet for you! Though can I interest you in some rockin' Pepsi shades? They're stylish AND won't bring on a lawsuit. Best of both worlds.