Holy Shit

I can't believe a powerful politician hired a hooker. I pray none of our trusted leaders have ever used cocaine or driven drunk.

And oh, the painful irony that he painted himself as a reformer. Gadzooks, he may be disingenuous, self-deceiving, self-deifying, or amorally in it for the power, or some combination of the above. Up to now, I thought politicians said what they meant and meant what they said. And what are the implications if his behavior is not limited to the political class? Is it possible that all people are capable of believing one thing and acting contrary to that belief in spite of it?

At the very least, we can count on NY's reputation for clean government and lawfulness being tarnished.

Rilke warned against sarcasm. I believe he said it was for the lazy. I agree, but I am tired.

On a different note, I wonder how many people's first reaction was: "at least he isn't a homo."

Dear MS Word: Fuck You, Die

How many years has Microsoft been working on Word? Yet, after all this time, they can't design a program that doesn't freeze and crash with regularity. And they feel the need for Word to constantly interfere with your work while you are writing. Self-applying styles? Why not? I mean, why not make your user want to smash his computer to bits in a frenzy over your shitty program? I've got a great idea. How about, when a user cuts and pastes text from other documents, why don't you sometimes impose formatting changes on that text that can be neither seen nor altered by the user. That is a wonderful idea. It is probably fun to imagine your users' tears of frustration and rage. With near 100% market dominance, why produce a functional, nonintrusive interface when you can deliver a bloated piece of shit?

Fuck you Microsoft. Power has made you stupid.

EDIT, 3/11
My more perceptive reader(s) may have inferred that a bad incident involving Word prompted the above tirade. Such an inference is correct. It turned out, I lost no more than 15 minutes of work to the crash. So, now that I am calm, and have had an opportunity for less agitated reflection, I wish to add an addendum.

Microsoft, Word, I am compelled to use you. I understand that you will do all in your power to maintain your market dominance. I understand that you pay a lot of engineers to do things like think up new toolbars to add to your overburdened program, so that you can sell a new release every so often and claim that you have made "upgrades." I also understand that you will never bother to make Word for Mac a quality product, as it is in your best interests to make Mac as unappealing as possible. And sadly, the alternatives to you create compatibility problems and interface issues. So I have to work with you. But I do not have to like you. And I will keep trying to get out of this relationship. Because you are a bad program, Microsoft Word, and I am a good person, who should not have to take your shit.

It's not all bad.

I complain more than I should about a choice I made, and continue to make. Complaining and acting like evil forces are forcing all this work on me does not help. It makes me feel overburdened and persecuted.

I am too acutely aware of my numbers, of the competitive aspect of it. 18/211, 3.66; 21/232, 3.67; 17/256, 3.74. My ranks and gpas from my first three semesters, in ascending order. I can also tell you that I was top 9% last semester and moved up to top 6.6% this semester. I feel insecure that, despite all the As I've managed, I have yet to get an A+. Am I serious? Yeah. I wish I wasn't. I don't even know why I'm working so hard anymore. I have a great job locked up already. I don't need these kind of grades to get a public defender job. The only reason to obsess over grades and rank is if they represent my own worth. The inadequacy of grades as a reflection of my self worth is evident in that, even with excellent grades, I am wracked by insecurity. Having nothing but A+s and being #1 would not heal my pain.

But I started by writing that it's not all bad. Because it isn't. The competition, the stress, the grades; that shit is bad. But I like trusts & estates. I like mastering concepts and learning to work within a complex web of rules. I like my saturday morning class, where I get to do opening statements and cross examinations, just like a real actor, er, lawyer. I like my con law class, helmed by a crotchety throwback with sideburns and a jacket with elbow pads. He makes us all sit with one seat in between, disallows eating and drinking (even water), does not permit ANY absences, and makes his students handwrite the finals. I like my theater law class, which feels warmly familiar. I get a lot out of that school. So I am trying to appreciate it more and spit bile less. I presume that those within spitting distance will be grateful.

And yeah, that's what the law building looks like.

Here's a haiku I wrote about it.

hulking and ashen,
law school looks like a prison
or a factory

Stifled

Every once in a while I will read some of my writing from a few years back. It's all from a few years back. I haven't done any creative writing in a couple of years at least. Not a play, not a story. Shit, I can barely keep this thing updated once a month. Before this whole law school nightmare started, even when I wasn't writing, I was still creating. I acted, I directed. I did what inspired me. Now, I do what I am told. I do what must be done to get the degree, and to get the most out of a crappy situation. I even enjoy it. I like the challenge. I have some good friends. But I don't create. I write briefs. I write memos. I write papers. But I don't write. And that really sucks. I have always felt the urge to create art. Art is what has moved me, and excited me; it is what's precious about life. I want to be a part of it and create it.

But I need to do the law school thing right now. I think it was the right thing to do, but it is harder than I could have imagined.

I know I couldn't do it without Mrs. Beckett.

Little Brothers

Two moments of sadness this past week. First, my little brother by blood, the one I grew up with, suffered the death of his grandmother. She was not my grandmother, and her passing did not move me much, but I feel for him. My grandmother died not too long ago, and I miss her still. The funeral took place in a viewing room at a funeral home. It was open-casket. The priest gave a fairly formulaic speech, did the rites, and then we walked out. The priest did a fairly good job; he didn't seem to know her or the family. That was my Wednesday morning. Thinking of you, little brother.

The other moment just occurred. As I have mentioned here before, I am a mentor with Catholic Charities. My Little is now 13. He is a bright, energetic, sensitive young kid. Everyone remarks on his smile. Anyway, he just called me, and told me in his always-quiet voice that he couldn't hang out tomorrow. We were going to finish putting together the Lego Ferrari I got him for his birthday. It was clear he had been crying and he wouldn't tell me what had happened. And he said he didn't know when he would be able to hang out. He then told me, with a little urgency, that he had to go. I heard his mother saying "Get off the phone," and he sort of whimpered a little. I think I said OK, or bye or something and she yelled at him to get off the phone again.

I wish I could go there and take him out of there, if just for a half hour. I was in his shoes, on the other end of the phone, many times as a kid. I was constantly getting into trouble for which my mother's preferred method of punishment was some sort of deprivation. I would be forbidden to see my friends, or go out, or watch a TV show, or have a snack. So I felt deep empathy for him. I know he is lonely, and that his mother is stretched to the limit. And I think he has been branded as a problem and a troublemaker. If making trouble is how he gets his mother's attention, I know from experience, their conflicts are unlikely to abate any time soon.

I also miss the chance to hang out with him. Playing and putting Legos together and eating pizza is a nice break from law work. And I know it means a lot to him to be treated as specially as we treat him here in the Beckett household. So, I'm thinking of you, too, little brother.

Phew!

Finals are over. Law school is 1/2 over. I am trying to relax. But I haven't had more than a few days off in a year and a half, and even then, work loomed ominously on the horizon. So I am trying to remember what it's like to spend an unhurried day.

And I can finally take this li'l macbook of mine to the "geniuses" at the Apple store. The high-and-mighty apple customer service refuses to provide customers with estimates of how long a repair will take. So I have been unable to take the heavily used notebook for much needed maintenance. My computer has several problems common to early macbooks: the white faceplate where I rest my wrists while I type and the trackpad have become discolored (from sweat I presume). The case has small cracks around the edges from where the screen contacts the base of the laptop while closed, and, worst of all, the battery has a problem that causes the computer to shut down without warning when there is less than an hour of battery life yet. It forces me to run on AC power almost all the time or risk losing documents. Luckily, autosave and recovery features have become quite good. It also has a problem not common: the hinge is missing a chunk o plastic that broke off when the poor thing was dropped. So if I try to view the screen at a 75 degree angle, it kind of just flops back to 45. On the plus side, the macbook has a motion sensor in it so that it realizes it's falling and shuts down to protect your data. It did what it was supposed to do.

And I get to reinstall Leopord, which is a pretty great OS. Sadly, I had to uninstall it in order to run SJU's exam software.

Anyway, it'll be kind of nice to not even have this thing here. Out of sight out of mind. Time to buy a christmas tree, play some video games, and actually do some reading for pleasure. Maybe I'll finally finish Against the Day.

I'm sure there are some X-mas parties I'm supposed to go to as well. That's not the worst thing in the world.

Reason for Concern?

I have found myself in agreement with Justices Scalia's and Thomas's dissenting opinions with some frequency. It distresses me a bit because they are politically aligned with an ideology I often disagree with.

My admirations for the dissents' arguments comes from the fact that Thomas & Scalia are originalists: they think the interpretation of the Constitution should be confined to the plain meaning of the language in the document and the framers' intent. It is a much easier position to argue than one that teases contemporary ideas and meanings out of the language of the document, because it has clear guidelines and set parameters. Dissenting opinions are also not as likely to be the product of bargain and compromise as are majority opinions. The writer of the dissent is not constrained by needing to temper the language to satisfy a swing vote. Similarly, it is easier to tear down an argument than it is to build one up.

I also like Scalia's dissents because they are entertaining. I spend enough time reading opinions that a Scalia zinger is a welcome occasional diversion.

It's Hot in Here

Um . . .

from NY Times, 10/23/07

Bush to Warn Cuba on Plan for Transition

WASHINGTON, Oct. 23 — President Bush is planning to issue a stern warning Wednesday that the United States will not accept a political transition in Cuba in which power changes from one Castro brother to another, rather than to the Cuban people.


We don't accept their government at all. We have an embargo against them. What will he be warning Cuba of? His stern disapproval? Will he really "not accept a political transition"? When he speaks strongly to Cuba about democratic reforms, will he pretend he's addressing Fidel & not Raul?

Do see:
Darjeeling Limited (Wes Anderson-style storytelling; every frame is perfect and the story keeps you right with it. drawback: overwritten. Anderson's movies usually get better with each viewing, so really liking one 1st time out is a good sign.)

Michael Clayton (Lawyers and agri-business doing bad things together. The least plausible part of the movie, which inolves murder, cancer, nudity in a deposition, and haggard, soulless lawyers and businesspeople, is George Clooney being broke. Hollywood did mess up parts of this movie, but it is worth a watch. Fine acting.)

Don't bother with: Eastern Promises (very overrated, very derivative, crap script; it looked amazing, but didn't add up to much).

CA wildfires rage. Every year. Was it always like this? How long has it been like this? And can we blame it on illegal immigrants?