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.

Monthly Update!

Because that's about what it is. Although it's been nearer two months since I've actually posted. Fail. So... what's happened to me since early may.

Finals. They happened. They were unpleasant in the doing, and pleasant in the aftermath.

Fight Club (that is, the writing competition, the first rule of which is you DON'T talk about fight club). It also happened. Immediately after finals. There was a four day span in which I did not leave my apartment. I managed to distill ~500 pages of legal sources into 8 pages of analysis, having read every goddamn source they provided us with. In a perverse way, it was rather fun, except that the subject was... less than perfectly interesting and the deadline was somewhat ridiculous. So, that was Fight Club.

Immediately following Fight Club (well, that's not true: I turned my submission in a day early, and didn't start working until the following monday) I started working for my two profs--Epstein and D'Amato. D'Amato initially wasn't sure I was even working for him, and then suggested I talk to him again around... July. Then I talked to Epstein, who set me to work coding case sets for her empirical research. That afternoon, D'Amato called me up with a time-sensitive thing, which turned out to not be quite so time sensitive and erupted into a suit against a foreign republic for breach of contract which is all sorts of fascinating and relatively confidential. Those have both continued, and are still how I am gainfully employed. Not terribly glamorous (mostly cuz I can't talk much about D'Amato's project), but hey. It's money, which means that I can, among other things, pay rent and eat.

There's been dancing. You know, as happens. There's also been reading of books, as also happens.

I went to Minneapolis for Carleton's graduation, which was largely an excuse to visit folks up there. It was lovely. There was more Carnivale, there was gaming, there was watching Russell play WoW and poking around with that. I was declared the alpha geek of Pechous gaming store, due to dinner with George Takei and Skyping into gaming. There was a fair amount of hanging out with people, and leaving my phone charger at Russell's (there was also setting up my bed--futon--in Russell's new place). Graduation proper was lovely, and featured the requisite dancing (thanks, Grace!), and catching up with lots of random people and profs (yes, profs are people, but they're a separate category), and poking at the graduates I knew (I came for three people, but ended up seeing a rather few more).

Then I got home from MPLS (yay for eight hour bus rides to read books and a several inch stack of law reviews), and promptly got death (Russell did too, and we decided to blame Max, even if it's not his fault). Bergy rocked my world by bringing me dinner and a few groceries for general survival that first night of death. Three days later (that's approximately the right time frame for these things, according to the bible), I returned to the living, just in time to go to Morgan's lake house for a weekend of water and company and alcohol. Although none of that last for me, as I was still attempting to hack up a lung, and possibly bits of other internal organs. There was kayaking and a boat and swimming and... lots of couples. Morgan and I were the men, and the singles. It was... interesting.

Last monday there was more dancing, notable because I finally got a crew of law students (Pasquesi & fiancee, Michelle, Bergy, Mal, Morgan, me) to go up to Charlie's. Crystal spent most of the line dance lesson cracking on lawyers--she was disappointed this week because no one came, and she had a REALLY AWFUL gay lawyer joke she'd learned just for our benefit. Josh was a good sport, and Stina (the two-step instructor) asked whether he was family--his confused look was a good answer.

Somewhere in there, I wrote some. I worked a bit more on my pages and pages of backstory for Paul Twiceborn (gaming character for changeling), and wrote a story for I'm From Driftwood--a blog that collects true stories from gay people, often about coming out or relationships and whatnot. It got published. The link is here: http://www.imfromdriftwood.com/2009/06/17/im-from-kentfield-ca/ I should write more, because I've had no progress on The Alchemy of Eternity within the last several months, but... I don't know how likely that is for the next while. Concentrating mostly on Paul's story. Once it's done, I'll probably find some way to put it up for your enjoyment.

Buffy has continued apace, for better or for worse. I ended up talking to Dave Diamond--my career advisor--for about ten minutes about it yesterday, because whenever he and I meet, it's usually about 25% substance and 75% fun conversation, often about queer issues. But I'm getting ahead of myself. This past weekend was Pride, and (due to being out of town for a Carleton graduation last year, and having mono the year before) was my first Pride. We (NUSL OUTLaw and Romeo) marched in the parade, which had the advantage of personal space, and therefore access to the breeze, which was lovely. We marched with folks from the ISBA (IL State Bar Association), and were the only law school to have gotten organized enough to actually march in the parade. Morgan got two marriage proposals, there were many shouts of 'I LOVE gay lawyers!' (only in the gay community, I'm convinced, is this attitude toward lawyers quite so), there was much ass-slappery/grabbery, and only the backs of my calves got sunburned--rectangularly, because we marched straight away from the sun for several hours, and I forgot to put sunblock on that area (yay for Neutragena's post-fuck-uppery-in-the-sun lotion, the application and magic of which meant I could survive jeans yesterday, and therefore go dancing).

The only other real news is that there was some then-significant drama over classes with the result that I have dropped into BA (Business Associations), and am not in Negotiation. This means I have a more agreeable class schedule and a lot more friends to be in class with. That's pretty much all I have at the moment. If you want more details, poke at me in person--that's kinda the general rule.

I leave you, as with most of the time, with a quote:

"Any golfer who has watched his partner shank a short approach knows, it would be absurd to accept the suggestion that the resultant four-letter word uttered on the golf course describes sex or excrement and is therefore indecent." ~Justice Stevens, dissenting in F.C.C. v. Fox Television Stations, Inc. (Docket No. 07-582)

DONE!

So, as many of you who read this will already know by the time you do read this, I am done. DONE! I had my last exam (Civil Procedure II, source of Marticles and Casablanca jokes, and the most horribly amazing bowling joke ever) this afternoon, and during that time, Maine legalized gay marriage. All in all, a good day. The writing competition starts tomorrow evening, but no work will be done on it until Friday, because tomorrow evening will be a great big damn celebration when everyone, rather than a few others and I, has finished their finals. So, this has been an interesting (school) year, and many new things have happened. This will be a mildly contextless retrospective, mostly for my own memory, but for the selective edification of those who can read between lines well. (2 hours later) No. Scratch that, it would have been, but it consisted mostly of realizations that I'd had while here over the last nine months. So... meh.

I've still got the writing competition left (to get on a journal), and I have plans to go dance in a fountain in Millennium Park this weekend, which will be awesome. The weather has turned rainy now that I'm done, despite being gorgeous while I was occupied. Stupid weather. Anyway, I don't seem to have much more to say, despite my grand intentions. So here, for you, is a quote:

"The common law is not a brooding omnipresence in the sky, but the articulate voice of some sovereign or quasi sovereign that can be identified." 244 US 205, 222.

Concert! (Because I'm a bad law student)

So, tonight I went to a concert. My ears are not ringing, though by all rights they probably should be. It was a percussion quartet of former Northwesterners (I found out, at the concert--I'd found the thing itself on Chicagoist), and it was really kinda awesome. Tonight had a political theme--e.g. the first piece, called 'Speak Softly' involved four large sticks of varying lengths, and drum sticks for each of the four players. Carrying of (and banging on) big sticks ensued. Another piece was rhytmically in unison, called The Worker's Union, and written by a socialist who wanted to apply the concept of socialism to music. It could be played on any instruments, so long as they were loud; pitches were similarly nonspecific. One of the instruments was the soundboard from an upright piano, another was a marimba (I think--I'm not up to snuff on my percussive instruments), another included a small set of drums including a bass drum sideways on a stand and a set of plumbing pipes and was rounded out with some metal kitchen containers, and the last was a glockenspiel--which, incidentally, are much fucking louder than I'd thought they might be. There was a little Q&A session afterward, during which time I found out there was a reason I'd recognized the girl in front of me (particularly her scarf and bun): she had gone to Carleton. So that was a bit trippy. I walked the 3ish miles out there, and took the El back, and now I need to get back to Con Law.

I have no legal quote for you today. My apologies.

So. I suppose I should update people on life.

I mean, I do have this blog thing, I might as well put it to at least some use. It is late afternoon on a beautiful saturday, and I am inside doing really quite little. I don't know why. I should be outside doing something, or at least outside in transit to somewhere to do something. But I'm not. I'm here, updating my blog.

It's been an eventful couple weeks since last I posted here: I finished up my brief, I had spring break (yay for couchsurfing in MPLS, yay for geekery, yay for pleasant bus-rides with internet built in, and yay for a grocery bag full of books for $3.81), I came back and played far too much of video games (which, incidentally, is not to say that I will not continue in that vein, or that too much is, in fact, enough--it's not), and classes started again. Russell was here for the last day and a half, which was quite nice: I enjoy operating the Carleton Chicago Crash-pad. Apple crisp has been delayed nearly a week at this point, but will probably be made today. Mmmmmmm pyrex dish full of apple crisp.

Finals are coming up. That's really all I'm prepared to say on that subject at this point in time. I have a leadership retreat (because I am the treasurer to the gays and the singers for next year--OUTLaw and Habeas Chorus. Shit if I know how that came about) next weekend, which should be interesting if nothing else. The following week will be oral arguments based on the counterfactual hypothetical issue for which we wrote our briefs all this term. Hopefully it will be of the good. This weekend has been DANL (Day At Northwestern Law, aka Prospie weekend, etc.), which means 1) Prospies--including a girl from St. Olaf I met, and Lindsay (one of Jeff's paras from Sidley, and one of the rather few of my coworkers I liked), 2) Wigmore Follies, to which I was obliged to go and dragged Russell along. I was worried, because last year's was... not of the good. This year it was fantastic, even if I wasn't as aware as some people think I ought to have been of the whole Terminator context (Russell educated me afterward). Everyone could sing, the dance numbers were well done, the acting and plot were both quite good. The jokes were both on point and rather pointed, but not barbs outright, so it was well done.

In other news, gay marriage. It's been legalized in Sweden on April Fool's day (props to Laura for being the only person to actually gull me), and yesterday in Iowa BY A UNANIMOUS COURT. Kinda awesome. Read the opinion in class, for the most part, which was very well written. Varnum v. Brien: http://data.lambdalegal.org/in-court/downloads/varnum_ia_20090403_supreme-court-decision.pdf Also, Camilla Taylor--one of the two lead counsel on the case for Lambda Legal--is an adjunct prof. at NUSL, teaching the Sexual Orientation and the Law class, and is evidently going to be having a party next week to which all the gays are invited. So that should be entertaining.

Also, would be having lunch with Lucy tomorrow, except that her conference is on the South Side and she has not sufficient time to get away to meet me between classes, so I will not get to see her or meet her boyfriend, which is a sadness. But, on her LJ today, she put up a somewhat mysterious post, which said only "My friends, I love you." With a link (labeled 'more'): http://www.obsessedwithconformity.com/obsessed_with_conformity/2009/03/in-the-name-of-love.html So, in the spirit of her post, and her link... my friends (and to my knowledge, all of my readers are my friends, because it's unlikely I have readers whom I don't know), I love you.

'We refuse to encourage couples to settle their disputes with fire.' 88 T.C. 677, 683

Also, http://www.endicott-studio.com/cofhs/cofinstr.html
My favorite bit:
"dragons have one soft spot, somewhere, always;
hearts can be well-hidden,
and you betray them with your tongue."

Holy shit.

First. I just got back from a three hour dinner with various law students and George Takei. To those of you who do not know, he is Mr. Sulu. Oh god. It was amazing.

Second. Sunday didn't happen, more or less. That is because,

Third. Saturday night was Barrister's Ball (aka Law School Prom). I escorted Bergy's delightful sister (Christy) first to Mal's pre-party, which was awesome, and then to the Ball, where--because we were early--we took a stroll around the area, chatting. She is very good people. The Ball itself was fun. I danced with most of my friends, most frequently with Bergy and Christy. I was be-tuxed, with my dad's reversible red-or-black bow tie, which they sent because they couldn't find mine. Bergy was in a white tux with a pink vest and pink bow tie, and was disappointed that no white top hat could be found to complete his outrageous outfit. Post-Ball, there were traitorous shoes in the rain and then games at Bergy's until six in the morning. Then I went home and finished reading a book, finally closing my eyes at a bit before nine.

Fourth. Watchmen. Awesome. That is all, because I"m sure that some of you have not seen it, and I will not spoil things for you.

Now to finish my Con Law reading and go to sleep. I expected to be home... about two hours ago. Then I would have worked on my brief. Oh well. The sheer AWESOME of having become George Takei's impromptu informant on how Prop 8 and the arguments concerning it worked was so worth that.

Also, this needed sharing

Reproduced by the same dude as brought you Mayo v. Satan and Associates:
http://kevinunderhill.typepad.com/Documents/Fisher_v_Lowe.pdf