Friday, March 23, 2007

Justifiable infanticide

In London now, having arrived safely, and logging on from the computer in 80s Tom's delightfully posh Notting Hill home. Note, I say home, not flat. It's that posh. That's Tom there on the right. Say hi, Tom. I was greeted at the house with tea and homemade muffins. That is awesome.

The flight was successful enough, though as would be expected, I was within 5 rows of a wailing child. The flight itself took about 6 hours, with the child screaming for about 3 of them (meaning I slept for 3, and listened to the child for the other 3). There is really no worse sound in the world than a baby's screech. It makes my cheek twitch and my fists clench. And seriously, between incrementally shrinking personal space in airplanes and my incrementally growing inflexibility and general curmudgeonliness, it's hard enough to sleep on a flight already (this was a red-eye). 100% honestly, the thought that kept filling my mind during those waking hours: "Dear sir or madam, your child is a scourge upon humanity whose life I would gladly end if permitted to do so without consequences."

Note to potential/current employers who stumble upon this: I do not, in fact, have homicidal tendencies (that I will act on). I think what I'm trying to say is, please hire me/don't fire me.

Anyhow, this made me think, yet again, why isn't there an airline with no children under the age of 5 allowed? I paid $500 for my flight here. I would certainly pay a 10% premium, an extra $50, for the absolute guarantee that there will be no screaming infants on my flight. Wouldn't you?

So I have a question for all you law geeks out there: since airlines are common carriers, would such an airline violate any rules about discrimination by age or family status from the Civil Rights Act? The way I remember it, family status is only a protected class for the Fair Housing Act. Maybe age...but seriously. There must be a legal reason why this doesn't exist, because there is no good business reason not to have this airline. Sure, the whole air travel industry is completely unprofitable, but that doesn't seem to stop people from trying (and failing), whether it means theming an airline on breasts, or just offering the same old poor service under an even stupider new name. This is clearly a better idea.

Investors (and legal analysts), I await your messages.

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Hey Drama Society folks...

Who's up for an experiment in legal pedagogy? Can you imagine a Bruce Hay-produced Parody?

Internets explosion!

Kimanh responded to the announcement of the revival of this blog with special news. Apparently, I now account for 3 links in her journals folder, a new record. As a reward for my achievement, Kimanh presented me with this photo. Seeing that would basically haunt my dreams forever. I would be reduced to a teary mess, rocking back and forth, clutching myself, muttering, barely audibly: "overgrown bamboo-eating raccoon-looking motherfuckers."

Tragic, really.

Speaking of ways that the Chinese are apparently trying to destroy us, it turns out that one plate of stir-fried Chinese vegetables has 900 calories and 2,200 mg of sodium (link credit: Tina). But no MSG, folks! That's the important part! Whatever...I never believed that any dish of Chinese take-out could possibly be good for me. If anything, this article provided good news: pan-fried dumplings have only 10 more calories per dumpling than their steamed counterparts. Now I can order my fried dumplings guilt-free (except for the 560 calories)!

And even more good news for you food lovers out there: turns out Proctor & Gamble is not, in fact, in league with Satan (link credit: Andrew). But I'm watching you, Frito-Lay...something about Chester Cheetah has always struck me as pretty evil.

But you know who has obviously struck some kind of deal with the Dark Lord? Mojo Myles, who, at the age of 11, is now better at music than I ever will be at anything. Ever. At all. I hate talented people. And his name is Mojo! Clearly Satanic:



Oh look, now I've gone and depressed myself. Better turn to Facebook for comfort...



And even if that doesn't work, I've got 10 days ahead in London and Morocco to make myself feel better. Do you know what happens when I go to London? This is what happens: I put shots of liquor in my mouth and I light them on fire. Oh dear god the English kids are going to kill me...but they do have such pleasant accents... If I have to go, this is the way to do it. In a face-melting Sambuca fireball explosion, surrounded by people yelling, "Bollocks!"

I almost had to excuse myself to go clean up


Today in Entertainment Law, Professor Hay (pictured right as Hay Guevara) used the phrase "beg the question"...correctly! Andrew and I looked at each other and shared a moment of mutual bliss. It had been so long since either of us had heard anybody do it right. Well done, Bruce.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Back to life

To date, my first, last, and only post on this Blog was on July 23, 2004. It is 4 lines long, and yet comparing my life today to that post reveals so very much about where I've come from and where I've gone. In that post, I basically list the things I need to do to complete my transformation to complete social whoredom. Join MySpace? Check. Sell my soul to the Satan? Went to law school, so double-check! Jump off a cliff? I'm going to say that bungee jumping counts. So here I am, nearly 3 years later, 3-for-3. I think I like the 2004 version of me better.

I guess I haven't been completely alien to the Blogosphere, or whatever horrible word has been invented and undoubtedly completely overused to characterize this little corner of the Internet. I had my LiveJournal, which got updated from time to time. And I briefly contemplated using my MySpace Blog as my primary Blog (I feel like that makes MySpace count for two strikes against my respectability).

So what am I doing back here, you ask? Basically, filling the void left by the Parody, the law school musical. Somehow, people who have known me for 2 years or less find it perfectly logical that I decided to participate in a musical. But anyone who has known me longer tends to sound pretty surprised (and justifiably so, given my lack of experience). That's me with Parody people on the left there. They're good folks.

Anyhow, the Parody (which was fabulous) took 7 weeks of rehearsal, including a 2.5-week block of run-throughs, dress rehearsals, and performances that took up roughly 5 hours a day, every day (okay, we got a Friday off). Now, I have all that time back, and I have no clue what do with it. I've certainly completely forgotten how to do real work. Today, I spent about 2 hours cleaning up my computer's hard drive. Yesterday, I spent at least that much time rediscovering this Blog and playing with new formatting options, and that was without ever actually getting to write a word.

Anyhow, Parody's done, and there's a huge void left in my day, and in my psyche, where it used to reside. So I guess I like the Blog concept as a void-filler for a few reasons. First, it's delightfully narcissistic. Second, I often feel like I should be documenting my thoughts more, so that I can go back and read them later and feel hideously embarrassed with myself (thank god I could lock some of those old LiveJournal posts). Third, it allows me a forum to satisfy my innate need to make numbered lists. And fourth -- and most relevant here -- it gives me a minor taste of the performance element that was so fun about Parody and is so lacking now. I just spent a week where every night, I would say something, and large masses of strangers would laugh and appreciate it. Writing something down and putting it on the Internet allows me to indulge the fantasy that somewhere, someone will read something I write and chuckle. And that is far more fulfilling to me than reading about the right of publicity for the fourth time in 2 semesters.

The whole performance thing can be pretty intoxicating (incidentally, so can the minimum of 10 drinks a night I consumed for about 7 consecutive days during performance week...who's up for liver transplants?). So give yourselves a round of applause, Parody folks: you have created a narcissistic monster. Nay! You have taken a narcissistic monster, given him a potent cocktail of angel dust and crack, and set him loose on an unsuspecting Internet. I hope you're happy.