So, the story of my trip to Bhutan really starts well before the morning we departed from O’Hare. I… have been bad about blogging, since December. Here is a brief (well, condensed) summary of what went on before take-off. Last term was rather damn busy. I was taking 15 credits (for those who don’t know, the law school ABA mandated maximum load is 17), though 4 of those were ITP Bhutan. I also took Copyright (taught by PCD, of torts, Executive Gays Cook for YOU!, and general awesome), Intro Trial Ad (which made Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and many other days generally hellish, but was at least moderately worthwhile), Evidence (with Hughes, of Carleton and strokes), and admin (with Speta of excellent fashion). All in all--timing of ITA aside, it was a pretty good set of classes. Evidence was moderately torturous, as Hughes was not the most effective of professors, but I derived at least some amount of joy from reviewing Speta’s outfits with Deb or Bevis. Finals were interesting. The final paper for ITP went well, and my topic (religion and the Constitution of Bhutan) became rather important--more on that later. I won my jury trial (one of the high school jurors was the judge’s son, I did all the crosses and therefore had to do neither opening nor closing because there were three people in my group), after losing my bench trial because opposing counsel misstated IL law to the judge. The rest were finals--admin was terrifying and it’s questionable whether anyone gave the right analyses to the right questions; evidence was closed-book and partially multiple choice with no great help from the prof in any way (but an awesome flow chart created by the previous owner of my book); copyright was multiple choice in entirety, open book, and moderately amusing.
Not-quite class things from last term: I lost time during the first couple weeks of the term following twitter live-blogs of Perry v. Schwarzenegger, the closing arguments of which are in a couple weeks. I also lost time playing what turned out to be a patience game (I’ve since lost by giving up, after three possibly-dates and four months) with a boy who was otherwise quite promising. Barrister’s Ball--to which I went with the lovely Miss Laura--was fabulous, particularly with Morgan winning alpha permanently by winning prom Queen (Sue won as King, and the royal couple were entirely fabulous, even though Morgan makes for a REALLY UGLY woman). Seven courses were cooked for Sue Provenzano, PCD, and two other profs for the Executive Gays auction item--Becca made the dinner work by continually producing clean dishes. PCD hung out until two in the morning, despite having back issues, and drove me and Bergy home from Morgan’s place. There were study groups of varying degrees of effectiveness, and computer related shenanigans (I’ve recently beaten two operating systems into working together, without the aid of anything but google). Derek and I planned far too much of a Shadowrun campaign that went live during finals, because I’m brilliant. I eventually acquired summer employment (two jobs got within half an hour!) at the Chicago Coalition for the Homeless (a full-time affair, give or take an afternoon and an evening a week, with compensation in the form of four credits to be administered by Audra, starting in two weeks) and research monkeying for Bernardine Dohrn, revamping her Children in Conflict syllabus (for twenty hours a week, which totals 60. I've mentioned insanity, right?). During finals I went out to a swing dancing and tapas meet-up, where I met an interesting (straight) fellow who has decided that more dancing needs to happen. I acquired a cat and a PS2--each for the summer, and each from a separate source. I lost the week after finals to Kingdom Hearts II. Money the Summercat watched and purred.
So, as far as the class for ITP went, it was pretty sweet. There were readings, usually interesting, often thought provoking, and generally topically specific. A few times there were dinners (generally scheduled right after class, with the--hopefully unintentional--side-effect that I could not join because of ITA), or other get-togethers, for movies and such. Guest speakers would come and discuss topics, including the refugee situation, religion, the constitution (Prof. Calabresi was quiet thorough in his treatment of it, despite scheduling difficulties). And there was prep for the trip proper, in several different ways. We were divided among class committees, which were responsible for a variety of things (curriculum, travel, liaison, finance--I was half of the last committee, which Morgan headed), split ourselves up into research groups (constitution—consisting of me, Bergy, Sabo, Shanna, and Christine Leas—legal process, anti-corruption, foreign direct investment/business, and media), which did research and figured out whom to interview, and tried to set up those interviews. In the course of the class, I was tasked with contacting everyone’s favorite Scottish professor, Dr. Richard Whitecross, and setting up a trans-Atlantic teleconference with him (he was awesome). Also, we had to go and acquire a variety of equipment (chargers, converters, sunglasses, drugs--typhoid, anti-diarrhea, general anti-biotic, altitude sickness prevention). And I gathered people’s addresses who wanted post-cards. More on that last when it’s plot-topical.
That all seems a fair, if general and moderately lacking in detail, summary of the past term. Now, to start the story of going to Bhutan as I wrote it down. The story proper starts the night before we left, as I was frantically awaiting the arrival of what would end up being (because it arrived) my suitcase in the mail during this time. Ben and Russell were coming into town for the weekend, more or less on a whim. There was something about coming down to visit a friend who’d said to do so, but that turned out--I think--to not quite be accurate. We hung out a bit, went out to dinner, and I was told that the two Carleton-Roberts had planned to have a game-night. This… it was decided, would be held at my place. Starting at about 9PM. I hadn’t begun packing yet. I was due at 9AM at O’Hare the following morning, packed, passported, and at least moderately awake. People arrived, and games were played (Dominion, predominantly, with expansions), and I chatted with the gentlemen as I packed madly. We were limited to 20kgs of luggage, and I have no scale in my apartment. So… I guessed. Also, I had to frantically type up what I’d written of story (the Neil-Gaiman-dream one, this) in order to have story and paper on which to continue it while in Bhutan--this didn’t really happen, though, as most of my writing efforts went to producing the ensuing journal. The hilarity in my apartment continued, with much good company, until about two, when people filtered out. Russell and Ben ended up staying with (I believe) the Roberts.
I ended up getting three hours of sleep, and was up again to meet Morgan and Bergy (well, Morgan, anyway--there was cab-shenanigans in fetching Bergy, and significant missed connections by cell and doorman) at Panera for breakfast. Our cab brought us to O’Hare with some twenty minutes to spare, and we were nearly the first to arrive. No one failed to show, fortunately, and, after a severe argument between my passport and the scanner, we made our way through security. Bergy and I were both sorta punchy, and through some combination of circumstances I cannot quite recall I challenged him to maintain an Irish accent through the airport. He tried his level best. There was a discovery that Diamox (the altitude sickness drugs, which we were to start on 48 hours before achieving altitude) has a possible side-effect of making all sweet things--particularly coke and diet-coke--taste disgusting (this discovery made possible by Shanna and Christine, and made hilarious by the ensuing experiments conducted in the terminal). Bergy hates flying, so we played Carcassonne (during which time the term ‘castle-jacking’ was defined) as he drank. He got called out by a nearby bar patron on his accent, which seemed to degrade over time. After finishing the game, the experiments, and starting the Yiddish Policeman’s Union, which Bergy brought for my amusement, we got on the plane. I did not sleep much on the plane. Some, but not much. I finished YPU, though, which was quite good.
I was stuck in the middle of my row, between some guy and Christine Leas, and behind Alli Bates. We were surrounded by rather quite loud high schoolers. Our first flight leg took us from O’Hare (ORD) to Tokyo. This flight was many hours. I cannot recall the precise number. There were media issues, for which we were issued apology cards--these turned out to be more lucrative than one might initially imagine. I got pictures in the air of Alaska, which was gorgeous to look upon. (Megaupload link to pictures--there are a gig and a half of ‘em: http://www.megaupload.com/?d=XH5W7O67 , http://www.megaupload.com/?d=3U7B1S9M --these are the initial, unedited set, just after the overexposed/underexposed/out of focus/blurry as shit cull. Edited pics will come over the course of the summer, I suspect) We landed in Tokyo, deplaned, and counted off. I was 2, Morgan 4, Bergy 6. Prisoner jokes ensued (‘Who are you?’ | ‘I am number 2’ | ‘Who is number 1?’ | ‘You are number six.’ etc.). At some point in this transition, I lost my apartment keys. Through customs we went, and set out to acquire food. Bergy and I had udon, various folks went to airport sushi, and so on. The triumvirate had a conversation about some nearby jailbait, and how unfortunate it was that a) they were jailbait, b) how thoroughly gay they were, and c) that they were rather cute. There was also Race for the Galaxy on the floor of the terminal. Then we boarded the next flight, zonked and unshaven, but well-ish fed.
The second leg took us from Tokyo to Bangkok (BKK), which was another 7ish hours, although the plane’s map had us routed to Hong Kong. I slept at least part of the way, but various… features… of the seating arrangements prevented effective sleep. I started another book. We landed in Bangkok, and went through customs, which was an affair involving much line-standing and repeated counting off (John Arendshorst seemed to delight in spontaneously starting count-offs by boldly announcing ‘One!’). It was hot outside. Intolerably so. And humid as shit. Bergy was very pleased with things. Our baggage was collected and shoved into vans, and we were driven to the airport hotel.
There. Were. Showers. Oh, joy and rapture, there was hot water. I cannot recall a time when I’ve felt more pleased about life to shave, shower, and brush my teeth. There were shenanigans involving room placements and beds and who was going to sleep through the four-and-change hour layover and who was not. It ended up that Morgan, Bergy, Sabo, and I kept our stuff in one room, and Morgan decided to sleep. The rest of us played games (Bonanza, this time—a bean counting trading strategy game), and eventually—once all three of us had run through hot water—went down to the vast, cavernous, and well air-conditioned lobby for further nerdery. Bergy and I also acquired food at the hotel restaurant—I can’t remember what I had, but Bergy had some rather tasty Tom Kha Gai (sp? Anyone who knows), which he continued raving about for three or four days. We wandered about outside briefly, he and I, while he poisoned his lungs, and chilled out with Matt Tsacoyianis and Caster a while, until people started coming down from their brief naps.
We returned to the airport and, after a brief misunderstanding, were moved from our initial deposit point--Delta--to our actual departure point--Druk Air (Druk, incidentally, is dzongka for dragon), which airline owns and operates a whopping pair of planes, with one flight a day coming from any of four cities. After getting our bags weighed at check-in—they didn’t weigh our carry-ons, the only reason that I, at least, suffered no weight issues on the way back—we retreated back through customs and security and whatnot, we hit the food courts. I had a slice of chocolate/praline cake that was exceptionally delicious and an ill-advised iced chocolate-drink-thing, which was similarly delicious, if hastily consumed to not imbibe melted ice and the… features… thereof. Then we waited for the plane, and boarded our flight on Druk Air from BKK to Paro (PAR) by way of Gaya, India (GAY. Yes, really). This was one of the most pleasant flights I’ve had in a long, long time. The seats were reasonably roomy, the food was amazing for airline food, particularly in that it was actually somewhat tasty in its own right. They served us mango juice (and orange juice, and water, and the standard other assortment of beverages). The egg-croissant-things actually could have been real (this trip's journal will feature lots of talk about food. Because there was lots of food, much of it rather tasty). There also was an assortment of fruit that we probably ought not to have eaten, but most of us did anyway--and thus I can say that I’ve had a dragonfruit, and see no further need to spend $7 at Whole Foods to try it. While it’s very pretty (both externally and internally--pinkish and kinda scaly-looking on the outside, hence its name, and like an albino kiwi on the inside with black seeds, it’s rather bland. Could be the ones we had, but… ::shrug:: This flight marked the first euchre game--of many--on the trip. Our pilot told us that on our left was Everest, so there was gawking and picture-taking--I don’t think that any of mine turned out, however.
I did, however, get a fair number of pictures of the landing in Paro. It’s consistently rated the first or second scariest airport in the world to land in, incidentally. You descend into a canyon that twists and turns and consistently narrows, all the while getting closer to the ground/mountainside. The scenery is remarkably pretty… and gets incredibly close. Bergy wasn’t quite so happy with this state of affairs, but was not the most vocal person about it. She shall remain nameless. Eventually, we landed, and that seems as good a place as any to stop for the moment. The next installment will run us from Paro to Thimphu, but probably not get much farther than that.
"Perhaps in the abstract one can believe that 'a troll is a troll,' but it is clear that all trolls cannot simply be judged alike, particularly when the inquiry must focus on distinct aspects of each." Dam Things from Denmark v. Russ Berrie & Company, Inc. 290 F.3d 548
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Friday, March 5, 2010
Update... forthcoming?
I hope. I make no promises. Life is crazy in a moderately burned-out kind of way. Add to it that there are all kinds of non-optional things to be done, most of them before I leave the country for two weeks (I'm doing that in just over eight days, to Bhutan, to research their constitution--even if we can't get ahold of the people we're told we've gotten ahold of and have to ask people in the streets about it). For future reference: school stuff. Employment/clerkship stuff. Life stuff. Barrister's. Things to do with boys. General lack of sanity, sleep, and time. Done with my Comment!
And Bhutan will be at least one post, as I plan to keep a journal there like I have of most of my trips. There will likely be pictures up here, if I can figure them out. If not, ask, and you shall receive cripping e-mail.
Hopefully I'll have a post up here before Bhutan.
"Medium rare scrutiny" | "The best kind of scrutiny!" Prof. Calabresi/Morgan, in conjunction, 3/3/10
And Bhutan will be at least one post, as I plan to keep a journal there like I have of most of my trips. There will likely be pictures up here, if I can figure them out. If not, ask, and you shall receive cripping e-mail.
Hopefully I'll have a post up here before Bhutan.
"Medium rare scrutiny" | "The best kind of scrutiny!" Prof. Calabresi/Morgan, in conjunction, 3/3/10
Sunday, December 27, 2009
December... yes, I skipped a month.
It's closing in on the end of the month. Theoretically, that means another blog post. In practice... well, not so much for November. The first half of November was consumed by papers, largely: forty-two pages on Appling v. Doyle, and fourteen that comprised the first draft of Murder, Prostitution, and Craigslist: the Paper (MPCtP, as I later acronymed it after Bevis poked at me for always spelling it out in full). What else happened in November... I was sick a few days, which was rather unpleasant. I continued to not get hired for a job, any job. I conducted interviews of family members of those sentenced to JLWOP (Juvenile Life Without Parole) for Children in Conflict, taught by the incredible Bernardine Dohrn, who had us over to her house for dinner at one point. I got into contact with a judge to help me get employ at the State's Attorney's Office. I had an orphan's Thanksgiving hosted by Miss Laura, who cooked an amazing turkey and had stories to tell about wrestling with a turkey neck and assorted fun with giblets. There was a variety of drama, but I can't seem to recall at present quite the nature of it, or of whom it was comprised. I went dancing.
December. Finals. Study group with Frank and Lisa (where each of us had our role to fill: Frank prepared the agenda, Lisa kept us on track and actually knew things, I spun bullshit explanations that turned out to be right far more often than not, much to everyone's surprise) for Enviro. Writing the JLWOP memos and ribbing Patricia about nearly taking us to IN on the way to one of the interviews. Bergy introduced me to Borderlands after our one-hour closed-everything forty multiple-choice question justify-your-answers-in-the-margins-if-you-feel-so-moved Ideas of the First Amendment final, which I then went home and ordered from the internet. It should be waiting for me upon my return--part of why I'm writing this now rather than Wednesday afternoon. One boy from the internet became three boys from the internet, each with a promise to make life complicated. None have been actualized, but I'm hopeful with one of them. There were finals, as mentioned before, and they ended. I was a witness for two friends' trials (one ITA, one Crim. Trial Practice), which went moderately successfully, and were quite fun. There were concerts--I believe I mentioned Imogen Heap before, prior to the concert, but now, after, I can say it was unutterably awesome. Also there was Straight No Chaser with Morgan after an impromptu Triumvirate Sushi escapade, at which there was much singing (clearly). Since then, there has been home, and family, and cats, and work: I redid MPCtP such that it went from fourteen to twenty-one pages, with only four or five pages in common between the two papers. Yesterday I moved somewhere between one and two metric tons, depending on what's an appropriate average weight estimate for the boxes in question (30 is low, Strump says, but that puts me at ~2500 pounds moved). I've been once to my coffee shop, and dancing the same number of times. I've seen several friends--Liz, Dana, Cara, dancing folks, and Eric on Tuesday. Seeing Cara was most emphatically lovely: we hadn't seen each other since she left for Botswana, when we gave her the plush ebola virus. We went to Raku, where we first got date service, and succeeded in getting it again, proving that we've not lost our touch.
I apologize for being terse in my descriptions of things... it's been a busy month (well, a strained autumn, really). Looming over the whole of this all is family drama, which doesn't really bear getting into on a broadcast medium such as this. If you're curious, ask. I may or may not say.
There was a delightful snowstorm here in DC. We got 23" of snow in 2 days, most of which time I was rewriting/revising MPCtP, and watching it snow from outside my improvised bedroom. It was definitely one of the highlights of the break.
Christmas was a push, and therefore stretched and... yeah. We had one tree this year, which I was not allowed to light for fear that it would cook the tree (the last few years, I've lit the upside-down tree, a 6' tree, with at least 25-30 strands. Strump lit this one, an 8' tree, with 20. I probably would have come in at double that--cooked tree would ensue). It got decorated on the 24th, mostly. Christmas Eve was with the Ericksons at the Washington Club, and was delightful--I spent most of the time talking to Ben, and my mother to Capt. Erickson. Sadly, Strump was between these two gentlemen, with no one really to talk to until Ben started asking after the business and things toward the end of the evening. Christmas morning was stockings (mostly chocolate, although there were two salami in mine), late, finishing the tree, and an aborted brunch. Later, we went over to the Ericksons' for Christmas dinner, which was fun. Ben and I exchanged CDs. Boxing day featured brunch (for real), presents, and then me moving a literal ton of boxes (85+ boxes, assuming 35 lbs average box-weight, which given that many of them were impossibly heavy book boxes is possibly a bit light for the average--that puts me at nearly 3k pounds). Today was lunch and a bit of wandering with Cara and Strump up in Bethesda, and then coming home to move more boxes (not nearly so much, but dear god photos weigh a bloody ton when boxed up) and sorting through crap to try to get rid of some of it so it won't have to be moved.
All in all, it's a working break. Unwinding will happen after I return to Chicago on Wednesday, first with Borderlands, second with NYE--hopefully but not assuredly at Morgan's--and third with retarded gluttony up north with a wonderful crew of law school idiots. Hopefully next term won't kill me--I have eleven hours of classes on Wednesdays, including three hours of ITA at the end of it. I'll have to work everything out on Tuesday, as I won't have time to do it day-of, most weeks. Hopefully coffee will also happen with a particular set of pixels.
Oh! Geekery. It's happened, and continues to occur. On one front, gaming with Max et al. has continued. On another, I've been reading Anathem, by Neal Stephenson, which is an intellectual romp concerning a cloistered society of what would happen if high level philosophy and high level physics were done by one and the same people... among many other things. It's fantastic, since the physics is all spelled out, but the philosophy is never attributed to actual people--I can figure out most of the references, though, so it makes me quite happy. On a third, I was approached over Google Wave by one Mr. Deren with an idea of something actually feasible and useful to do with the service they provide: gaming. Decentralized. Over Wave. So there will be a Shadowrun game over the internet, assuming we ever get organized enough to get it off the ground, and get backstories and characters and shit from everyone. We'll see about it--the characters are all more or less in, if not completely, and look precisely as crazy as the assembled crew of players.
I should probably be going to bed, because I'm told I will be getting up early tomorrow, for more fun moving the basement's contents out of the basement, and possibly into a POD--if we can acquire one on a morning's notice. Fun and games.
December. Finals. Study group with Frank and Lisa (where each of us had our role to fill: Frank prepared the agenda, Lisa kept us on track and actually knew things, I spun bullshit explanations that turned out to be right far more often than not, much to everyone's surprise) for Enviro. Writing the JLWOP memos and ribbing Patricia about nearly taking us to IN on the way to one of the interviews. Bergy introduced me to Borderlands after our one-hour closed-everything forty multiple-choice question justify-your-answers-in-the-margins-if-you-feel-so-moved Ideas of the First Amendment final, which I then went home and ordered from the internet. It should be waiting for me upon my return--part of why I'm writing this now rather than Wednesday afternoon. One boy from the internet became three boys from the internet, each with a promise to make life complicated. None have been actualized, but I'm hopeful with one of them. There were finals, as mentioned before, and they ended. I was a witness for two friends' trials (one ITA, one Crim. Trial Practice), which went moderately successfully, and were quite fun. There were concerts--I believe I mentioned Imogen Heap before, prior to the concert, but now, after, I can say it was unutterably awesome. Also there was Straight No Chaser with Morgan after an impromptu Triumvirate Sushi escapade, at which there was much singing (clearly). Since then, there has been home, and family, and cats, and work: I redid MPCtP such that it went from fourteen to twenty-one pages, with only four or five pages in common between the two papers. Yesterday I moved somewhere between one and two metric tons, depending on what's an appropriate average weight estimate for the boxes in question (30 is low, Strump says, but that puts me at ~2500 pounds moved). I've been once to my coffee shop, and dancing the same number of times. I've seen several friends--Liz, Dana, Cara, dancing folks, and Eric on Tuesday. Seeing Cara was most emphatically lovely: we hadn't seen each other since she left for Botswana, when we gave her the plush ebola virus. We went to Raku, where we first got date service, and succeeded in getting it again, proving that we've not lost our touch.
I apologize for being terse in my descriptions of things... it's been a busy month (well, a strained autumn, really). Looming over the whole of this all is family drama, which doesn't really bear getting into on a broadcast medium such as this. If you're curious, ask. I may or may not say.
There was a delightful snowstorm here in DC. We got 23" of snow in 2 days, most of which time I was rewriting/revising MPCtP, and watching it snow from outside my improvised bedroom. It was definitely one of the highlights of the break.
Christmas was a push, and therefore stretched and... yeah. We had one tree this year, which I was not allowed to light for fear that it would cook the tree (the last few years, I've lit the upside-down tree, a 6' tree, with at least 25-30 strands. Strump lit this one, an 8' tree, with 20. I probably would have come in at double that--cooked tree would ensue). It got decorated on the 24th, mostly. Christmas Eve was with the Ericksons at the Washington Club, and was delightful--I spent most of the time talking to Ben, and my mother to Capt. Erickson. Sadly, Strump was between these two gentlemen, with no one really to talk to until Ben started asking after the business and things toward the end of the evening. Christmas morning was stockings (mostly chocolate, although there were two salami in mine), late, finishing the tree, and an aborted brunch. Later, we went over to the Ericksons' for Christmas dinner, which was fun. Ben and I exchanged CDs. Boxing day featured brunch (for real), presents, and then me moving a literal ton of boxes (85+ boxes, assuming 35 lbs average box-weight, which given that many of them were impossibly heavy book boxes is possibly a bit light for the average--that puts me at nearly 3k pounds). Today was lunch and a bit of wandering with Cara and Strump up in Bethesda, and then coming home to move more boxes (not nearly so much, but dear god photos weigh a bloody ton when boxed up) and sorting through crap to try to get rid of some of it so it won't have to be moved.
All in all, it's a working break. Unwinding will happen after I return to Chicago on Wednesday, first with Borderlands, second with NYE--hopefully but not assuredly at Morgan's--and third with retarded gluttony up north with a wonderful crew of law school idiots. Hopefully next term won't kill me--I have eleven hours of classes on Wednesdays, including three hours of ITA at the end of it. I'll have to work everything out on Tuesday, as I won't have time to do it day-of, most weeks. Hopefully coffee will also happen with a particular set of pixels.
Oh! Geekery. It's happened, and continues to occur. On one front, gaming with Max et al. has continued. On another, I've been reading Anathem, by Neal Stephenson, which is an intellectual romp concerning a cloistered society of what would happen if high level philosophy and high level physics were done by one and the same people... among many other things. It's fantastic, since the physics is all spelled out, but the philosophy is never attributed to actual people--I can figure out most of the references, though, so it makes me quite happy. On a third, I was approached over Google Wave by one Mr. Deren with an idea of something actually feasible and useful to do with the service they provide: gaming. Decentralized. Over Wave. So there will be a Shadowrun game over the internet, assuming we ever get organized enough to get it off the ground, and get backstories and characters and shit from everyone. We'll see about it--the characters are all more or less in, if not completely, and look precisely as crazy as the assembled crew of players.
I should probably be going to bed, because I'm told I will be getting up early tomorrow, for more fun moving the basement's contents out of the basement, and possibly into a POD--if we can acquire one on a morning's notice. Fun and games.
Hear Ye, Hear Ye, Hear Ye: This Court [bangs water bottle/gavel on bench] is now in session. God save the Queen. –Kathy’s judge, reconvening her ITA jury trial.
Friday, October 30, 2009
One paper down... (aka end of October)
I just finished my third and final paper for Ideas of the First Amendment, on Darwinism and the First Amendment. This means that I have, now, under sixty pages to produce in the next seventeen days. There were seventy-plus (forty minimum for my Comment, of which I've written two, and twenty-odd for Computers and the Law, of which I've written nothing). That's what I've been up to for a while. And that's what I will continue to be up to until a) I die, or b) I finish.
There have been a smattering of concerts. Habeas sang several, and I believe I talked about those, and the Matt Alber concert I had in between. More recently there was a Jonathan Coulton concert (he did a Flood concert, because TMBG was doing the same somewhere else in the city on the same night--with Paul and Storm, his opening act, on a week's notice, and it sounded better than recordings I have of TMBG as far as musicality goes--but also did various of his own songs.), with the lovely Laura Stratford, which was just incredibly fun. There are more. Habeas will be singing again at the SFPIF auction on (I believe) the 19th. On the 24th, Laura, Morgan, Mal and I will be going to see Imogen Heap, which promises to be fabulous.
Last night was the SFPIF halloween party, which was... well, yeah. I dressed up as a vampire (no fangs, because they were hard to acquire and were passed off as retractable). There was a tuxedo shirt, suit pants (because I don't own tux pants), dress shoes, cummerbund, my red/black bow tie, studs and cufflinks involved. And it was all an excuse to wear my cape. The only other celebration of Halloween that will happen for me aside from this will be seeing Hocus Pocus tonight at Bergy's.
Before that, there was an event put on by OUTLaw--a panel discussion by members of the reasonably newly formed Alliance of Illinois Judges, a group for gay judges in IL. All in all, it was a really interesting panel, and we were told how to become judges, should we want that (I do. Oh god, I do), and we were told bits of history in general, and how each of the panelists got to where they are. One of them, when I talked to him afterward, suggested I call him soon to talk about the States' Attorney's Office, where he worked for fifteen years prior to sitting on the bench, and getting me a job there.
In other news, I still don't have a job. Working on that. Got two snail failmails today, both from firms that had e-failmailed me before. I love being redundantly failed. Really I do.
It is drizzly, grey, and wonderful out here. If only my apartment weren't borderline overheated. Now, back to writing papers--moving on from Darwinist interpretations of the First Amendment to the Duty to Defend at a state level, and how the WI AG is a tool. In the far future (after next sunday, I mean), there will be pages and pages on prostitution and murder arising from Craig's List, and the latter's liability for the former.
"I shall not today attempt further to define the kinds of material I understand to be embraced within that shorthand description; and perhaps I could never succeed in intelligibly doing so. But I know it when I see it, and the motion picture involved in this case is not that." 378 U.S. 184, 197 (1964)
There have been a smattering of concerts. Habeas sang several, and I believe I talked about those, and the Matt Alber concert I had in between. More recently there was a Jonathan Coulton concert (he did a Flood concert, because TMBG was doing the same somewhere else in the city on the same night--with Paul and Storm, his opening act, on a week's notice, and it sounded better than recordings I have of TMBG as far as musicality goes--but also did various of his own songs.), with the lovely Laura Stratford, which was just incredibly fun. There are more. Habeas will be singing again at the SFPIF auction on (I believe) the 19th. On the 24th, Laura, Morgan, Mal and I will be going to see Imogen Heap, which promises to be fabulous.
Last night was the SFPIF halloween party, which was... well, yeah. I dressed up as a vampire (no fangs, because they were hard to acquire and were passed off as retractable). There was a tuxedo shirt, suit pants (because I don't own tux pants), dress shoes, cummerbund, my red/black bow tie, studs and cufflinks involved. And it was all an excuse to wear my cape. The only other celebration of Halloween that will happen for me aside from this will be seeing Hocus Pocus tonight at Bergy's.
Before that, there was an event put on by OUTLaw--a panel discussion by members of the reasonably newly formed Alliance of Illinois Judges, a group for gay judges in IL. All in all, it was a really interesting panel, and we were told how to become judges, should we want that (I do. Oh god, I do), and we were told bits of history in general, and how each of the panelists got to where they are. One of them, when I talked to him afterward, suggested I call him soon to talk about the States' Attorney's Office, where he worked for fifteen years prior to sitting on the bench, and getting me a job there.
In other news, I still don't have a job. Working on that. Got two snail failmails today, both from firms that had e-failmailed me before. I love being redundantly failed. Really I do.
It is drizzly, grey, and wonderful out here. If only my apartment weren't borderline overheated. Now, back to writing papers--moving on from Darwinist interpretations of the First Amendment to the Duty to Defend at a state level, and how the WI AG is a tool. In the far future (after next sunday, I mean), there will be pages and pages on prostitution and murder arising from Craig's List, and the latter's liability for the former.
"I shall not today attempt further to define the kinds of material I understand to be embraced within that shorthand description; and perhaps I could never succeed in intelligibly doing so. But I know it when I see it, and the motion picture involved in this case is not that." 378 U.S. 184, 197 (1964)
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Shit. September's almost over now.
Ummmmm... POST!
Lots of things happened in september. There was Lav Law, and hilarity involved therewith (including fun and games with google maps and B&Bs, a piano bar with an unlikely visitor, and having a song entitled "My Vagina is 8 Miles Wide" stuck in my head for the ENTIRETY of a gay career fair). There was dancing, and accidental networking, and a general failure of my firm-based job search. There was very little writing that wasn't involved with school, except for a few snatches of story and character ideas and on piece of microfiction that I will not share with anyone for a long long time. There was family drama and friend drama. But all I'm going to give you now is this and a quote to make it an official blog post, because I have between now and Friday at 5PM to produce 2 pages of annotated bibliography, 5 pages of background information/pitch, 8-10 pages of outline, and a preemption check for my journal comment topic, which involves Appling v. Doyle, the obligations of state level executive agencies/officers, and the WI AG doing the wrong damn thing (likely due to the beliefs that often but not always go along with being a Republican). Speaking of Republicans, Ted Olson's gonna be speaking at Northwestern, hosted by OUTLaw. After the comment proposal, I've got a paper to produce and two concerts to sing at, and hopefully I'll be able to attend a cheese party and a concert at which I won't be singing. Now to clean the kitchen, have dinner, and check out tickets to that last concert before going off to rehearsal for the first two.
More, umm... mid-October?
"Government is a collection of bureaucrats with guns." --Koppelman, in today's class. Not sure it's original to him, but it's quite plausibly so.
Lots of things happened in september. There was Lav Law, and hilarity involved therewith (including fun and games with google maps and B&Bs, a piano bar with an unlikely visitor, and having a song entitled "My Vagina is 8 Miles Wide" stuck in my head for the ENTIRETY of a gay career fair). There was dancing, and accidental networking, and a general failure of my firm-based job search. There was very little writing that wasn't involved with school, except for a few snatches of story and character ideas and on piece of microfiction that I will not share with anyone for a long long time. There was family drama and friend drama. But all I'm going to give you now is this and a quote to make it an official blog post, because I have between now and Friday at 5PM to produce 2 pages of annotated bibliography, 5 pages of background information/pitch, 8-10 pages of outline, and a preemption check for my journal comment topic, which involves Appling v. Doyle, the obligations of state level executive agencies/officers, and the WI AG doing the wrong damn thing (likely due to the beliefs that often but not always go along with being a Republican). Speaking of Republicans, Ted Olson's gonna be speaking at Northwestern, hosted by OUTLaw. After the comment proposal, I've got a paper to produce and two concerts to sing at, and hopefully I'll be able to attend a cheese party and a concert at which I won't be singing. Now to clean the kitchen, have dinner, and check out tickets to that last concert before going off to rehearsal for the first two.
More, umm... mid-October?
"Government is a collection of bureaucrats with guns." --Koppelman, in today's class. Not sure it's original to him, but it's quite plausibly so.
Monday, August 31, 2009
I started writing this in August
So it should really count as an August update. Even if the timestamp is prepared to lie to you all. Really. It was in August.
And... things happened over the summer. Lots of things. There were parties; there was Buffy (two seasons of it... and I fear I'm actually willingly going back for more); there was Tales of Symphonia and a little bit of Kingdom Hearts (the first one); there was a trip to MN elsewhere mentioned. There was dancing, and a dearth of dates. There was the advent of journals--I'm on the Journal of Law and Social Policy, for the few of you who read this and don't know. There was OCI (with five interviews on the first day, eleven in the first week, two the following, one of which was cancelled and subsequently made up by phone--that might have been my best interview. Particularly with all the lovely brusque stationary I've been getting of late. Bah.), and now there is waiting by a phone I carry around with me, not getting callbacks. There was carpetbombing of Minneapolis with resumes, which as yet to produce results, but hopefully will soon. I hope. And there has been the spinning of much, umm... horse puckey. In a number of ways.
Also, there are classes, and fun related to that (I forgot to bid in the first round of bidding, so had much fun and point-related expense in getting my classes for this term). They started today, and I had three of them (I have a MTW schedule, and four-day weekends that will hopefully be productive). First was Environmental Law, which was actually kinda fun (I never thought I'd say that about a class where we talked about why pollution might not always be bad--or, rather, law & econ--Coase, and the Tragedy of the Commons), and taught by a very nice older gentleman with a strong muppety streak, but not the strongest of all the profs I've had. That's MTW. Then there was Ideas of the First Amendment, in which I knew how I would feel about a case when I saw the words 'Justice McReynolds concurs in the judgment,' and which produced an admirable quote. Well, a number of them. Actually, both of these classes have, but anyway: (on human sacrifice and the First Amendment) 'If you could show that the state's homicide laws were adopted purely to stick it to the Aztecs, then we would strike down the homicide laws and let the Aztecs go to town.' That is a MTW class. Finally, I had Computers and the Law, which is being taught now for the fortieth year running. Two hours, in the evening, taught by a practicing attorney who used to teach programming to students in the first couple sessions of class to show 'how dumb computers are.' He likes to talk, a lot. It will be a fun class, both because of and despite that. This class is only on mondays.
Tomorrow is Children in Conflict with the law, wherein I might be reading A Clockwork Orange (again)--unclear, because there's no syllabus yet. Again, only Tuesdays, this. This means I have four day weekends (five this coming week, due to Labor Day).
Then I went dancing tonight. And I believe Laura arrives tomorrow! I'll not see her until Wed. or so, but it is a glorious thing. And I will drag her dancing, too.
Now, though, I think I am going to go read my enviro homework and go to bed.
http://docs.google.com/gview?a=v&q=cache%3AugZ2MzNkfe8J%3Akevinunderhill.typepad.com%2FDocuments%2FOpinions%2FBradshaw_v_Unity_Marine.pdf+%E2%99%AB+147+F.Supp.2d+668&hl=en&gl=us&pli=1
(Happy now, Cara? Bah.)
And... things happened over the summer. Lots of things. There were parties; there was Buffy (two seasons of it... and I fear I'm actually willingly going back for more); there was Tales of Symphonia and a little bit of Kingdom Hearts (the first one); there was a trip to MN elsewhere mentioned. There was dancing, and a dearth of dates. There was the advent of journals--I'm on the Journal of Law and Social Policy, for the few of you who read this and don't know. There was OCI (with five interviews on the first day, eleven in the first week, two the following, one of which was cancelled and subsequently made up by phone--that might have been my best interview. Particularly with all the lovely brusque stationary I've been getting of late. Bah.), and now there is waiting by a phone I carry around with me, not getting callbacks. There was carpetbombing of Minneapolis with resumes, which as yet to produce results, but hopefully will soon. I hope. And there has been the spinning of much, umm... horse puckey. In a number of ways.
Also, there are classes, and fun related to that (I forgot to bid in the first round of bidding, so had much fun and point-related expense in getting my classes for this term). They started today, and I had three of them (I have a MTW schedule, and four-day weekends that will hopefully be productive). First was Environmental Law, which was actually kinda fun (I never thought I'd say that about a class where we talked about why pollution might not always be bad--or, rather, law & econ--Coase, and the Tragedy of the Commons), and taught by a very nice older gentleman with a strong muppety streak, but not the strongest of all the profs I've had. That's MTW. Then there was Ideas of the First Amendment, in which I knew how I would feel about a case when I saw the words 'Justice McReynolds concurs in the judgment,' and which produced an admirable quote. Well, a number of them. Actually, both of these classes have, but anyway: (on human sacrifice and the First Amendment) 'If you could show that the state's homicide laws were adopted purely to stick it to the Aztecs, then we would strike down the homicide laws and let the Aztecs go to town.' That is a MTW class. Finally, I had Computers and the Law, which is being taught now for the fortieth year running. Two hours, in the evening, taught by a practicing attorney who used to teach programming to students in the first couple sessions of class to show 'how dumb computers are.' He likes to talk, a lot. It will be a fun class, both because of and despite that. This class is only on mondays.
Tomorrow is Children in Conflict with the law, wherein I might be reading A Clockwork Orange (again)--unclear, because there's no syllabus yet. Again, only Tuesdays, this. This means I have four day weekends (five this coming week, due to Labor Day).
Then I went dancing tonight. And I believe Laura arrives tomorrow! I'll not see her until Wed. or so, but it is a glorious thing. And I will drag her dancing, too.
Now, though, I think I am going to go read my enviro homework and go to bed.
http://docs.google.com/gview?a=v&q=cache%3AugZ2MzNkfe8J%3Akevinunderhill.typepad.com%2FDocuments%2FOpinions%2FBradshaw_v_Unity_Marine.pdf+%E2%99%AB+147+F.Supp.2d+668&hl=en&gl=us&pli=1
(Happy now, Cara? Bah.)
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Cities at night
I love cities at night. Both the concept of them, observed from a step back--say, from up on high--and the practice. By the former I suppose I mean the abstraction of city-at-night, where you have an amalgam of elements (all the things that comprise a city--buildings that block views of the sky and then pass behind you, streets with cars all impatiently on their way... someplace, people largely disinterested in anyone else, but still willing to look, to inspect--with darkness, streetlights, an increased sense of isolation, but simultaneously a slightly greater sense of curiosity about others and their activities added added to of that), and by the latter I mean my experience in them. It's an idealized experience, to be sure, played out in safe parts of cities and tinged by no ill happenings, but it's comforting and one I'm not trying to change.
It should come as no great surprise to anyone who reads this that I think of myself, often, as an observer. Slightly at a remove, slightly disinvolved, watching, thinking. It's likely the little furious introvert that lives in, and often takes over, my brain. Another fact that will not shock anyone is that I walk, both for entertainment and for sanity. Often not just the motion, not just the music--and between the two, a certain zen-like absence of thought--although it usually starts out that way. There comes a certain juxtaposition of observation and introspection, and it often proves unexpectedly cathartic.
Look at the world. Look at the city around you--living, breathing. See the cars all on their solitary missions out of and back into the darkness beyond your perception. See the streetlights, shining down the wide and (comparatively) empty streets, allowing a city to have vanishing points in every direction you look (well, four, anyway--and more a traffic circles). Watch the people, going to or from late night events, often in fancy clothing (or bar clothing); smile at the Late Night Dog Walker's Brigade (there are chapters in every city I've ever lived in, I swear); see the couples sitting in picturesque places, talking and kissing if they don't think there's anyone looking; laugh--quietly--at the skateboarders and other assorted packs of teenagers looking for amusement.
The world goes on, regardless of what's going on with you, personally. It may not care particularly, and it may not help at all. But to see that the world goes on, and to really think on it suggests that this, too, shall pass. This may not be the best of all possible worlds (I am neither the optimist that believes this nor the pessimist who fears it), but it's where we are, and in a sense we're rather stuck with it. So make your peace and move on with the world. It'll keep going, keep functioning, keep passing smoothly from day to night and back again. The notion of 'Let that be enough,' I suppose, is the catharsis that I come to on my late night walks. Let the city keep on as it has, I naively think, and everything will fall into place as it follows suit. It's possible I'm walking less for myself as such and more to make sure that the city is continuing.
Let that be enough.
It should come as no great surprise to anyone who reads this that I think of myself, often, as an observer. Slightly at a remove, slightly disinvolved, watching, thinking. It's likely the little furious introvert that lives in, and often takes over, my brain. Another fact that will not shock anyone is that I walk, both for entertainment and for sanity. Often not just the motion, not just the music--and between the two, a certain zen-like absence of thought--although it usually starts out that way. There comes a certain juxtaposition of observation and introspection, and it often proves unexpectedly cathartic.
Look at the world. Look at the city around you--living, breathing. See the cars all on their solitary missions out of and back into the darkness beyond your perception. See the streetlights, shining down the wide and (comparatively) empty streets, allowing a city to have vanishing points in every direction you look (well, four, anyway--and more a traffic circles). Watch the people, going to or from late night events, often in fancy clothing (or bar clothing); smile at the Late Night Dog Walker's Brigade (there are chapters in every city I've ever lived in, I swear); see the couples sitting in picturesque places, talking and kissing if they don't think there's anyone looking; laugh--quietly--at the skateboarders and other assorted packs of teenagers looking for amusement.
The world goes on, regardless of what's going on with you, personally. It may not care particularly, and it may not help at all. But to see that the world goes on, and to really think on it suggests that this, too, shall pass. This may not be the best of all possible worlds (I am neither the optimist that believes this nor the pessimist who fears it), but it's where we are, and in a sense we're rather stuck with it. So make your peace and move on with the world. It'll keep going, keep functioning, keep passing smoothly from day to night and back again. The notion of 'Let that be enough,' I suppose, is the catharsis that I come to on my late night walks. Let the city keep on as it has, I naively think, and everything will fall into place as it follows suit. It's possible I'm walking less for myself as such and more to make sure that the city is continuing.
Let that be enough.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)