Blogging about nothing.

 
Hooray!

I just had a fight with my colleagues. I think I won. The premise was:

Resolved: Lawrence was the biggest case of the term.

Discuss.


posted by mindse at 10:57 AM

 
Judge John S. Martin, Jr.

I call Judge Martin "my district judge." I call him that not only because I had the privilege of interning with him during my third year of law school. I also call him that because, through my friendship with one of his daughters, I knew him for several years before I even thought about becoming a lawyer. Without his guidance, I would never have been able to negotiate my way through the twists and turns of applying for the "right" clerkships, getting on the "right" law review, and working for the "right" law firm. Therefore, I owe him my entire career, as he jokingly reminds me.

When I interned with Judge Martin, he wanted me to be sure to spend Fridays in chambers. Fridays were the designated days for sentencing hearings. The former U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York, Judge Martin believed that sentencing was one of the most, if not the most, important part of his job. Watching him preside over those hearings has given the phrase "judicial discretion" a palpable meaning. The Judge is fair, thoughtful, and thorough -- the epitome of what I would want if I were either the prosecutor or the defendant in a federal criminal case.

If he really retires (I just can't stand the thought yet), then we've lost a great judge. I hope that Senators Kennedy, Leahy, Feingold, Lautenberg and Representative Conyers are aware of the Judge's piece and can use it to persuade Congress to pass the JUDGES Act, which is aimed at repealing the portions of the PROTECT Act that further constrain judicial discretion in sentencing.

I'm talking about the Judge as if he's dead, which of course he is not. I'm talking in terms of loss because that's what I'm feeling, I guess. A tremendous sense of loss for the system -- prosecutors and defendants alike.
posted by mindse at 10:39 AM

 
Library Porn

I'm upset about the library porn filter decision. I mean, I love porn, not to mention porn filters. I installed mine at home as soon as an effective one became available. Unless you have a porn filter to immediately filter out the non-porn, how are you to find any porn on the internet at all? Otherwise you're just deluged with those pop-up ads for informative news articles, helpful household hints, and low-fat recipes. How many times have I searched the Internet in vain for just a smidgen of porn?!? Not with my porn filter. No more Salon. No more Slate. No more How Appealing. Now, its just porn, porn, porn. But, I have to say.... installing porn filters in libraries? That seems an odd choice. What if a child wants to do a book report on My Friend Flicka or research sea anemones or something?

Oh. Sorry. I just read the decision. I get it now.

All right. Now I'm really mad. This subjects librarians to an added layer of harassment. Isn't it already bad enough that they're subjected to the confining stereotype of the prim old lady who crochets cats and has a dozen Afghan hounds? Or maybe crochets afghans and has a dozen cats? Whatever. They're prim. They're old. They're librarians. And now they're forever a part of your library porn experience.

How, I ask you, will young men without home computers access PCBootyCall.com now to download GirlFriend 4.0, their own girlfriend management software? Sometimes this Supreme Court just burns me up.
posted by mindse at 3:28 PM

 
Blog Sweet Blog

Oh, Bloggie. How have I missed ye? I know I have been away for quite some time. I have no excuses. Well, I do have excuses. But rather than dwell on the past, let's move on to the future, shall we? By detailing what I have been doing .... in the recent past.

My federal employment is coming to a close, so I'm frantically trying to tie up loose ends and working like a dog in the process. But I started off this Farewell Tour with a last trip to the glorious city of San Francisco, where I ate too much, got my hair cut, and bought shoes.

I then tripped away for a weekend rendezvous in glorious Las Vegas with fellow Academy member Robert and my dashing young colleague Ben. We met up there with another institutional colleague who had just a week or so before been discharged from service with one of the most legendary workaholics amongst us. (And, may I say, one of the most charming... as long as you limit your contact to social engagements.) It had been so long since this young recently-expelled clerk had seen the outdoors in the middle of the day, he looked like one of those fish that live in caves that have evolved into blind albino freak-creatures. But, after a nice four days or so lolling by the pool at the Palms, he appeared to have some of his (I'm told) original bounce back. Welcome back to the living, Young Man, say I!

Have I spoken to this blog about how much I love Las Vegas? I couldn't possibly love Las Vegas more. But, I have decided that my official limit is four days. Four days is just about perfect for someone with my income and attention span. I was there from Thursday afternoon through Monday morning. Joy, rapture.

I think the highlight had to be my pilgrimage to Cheetah's, the strip club featured in one of my favorite films -- Showgirls. I felt more of a thrill witnessing in person Nomi's familiar dancing pole and the red vinyl couches in the VIP room where she gave Zach a Crystal-funded lapdance than I did when I visited Graceland. But, I also learned much about myself. Namely, I am not cut out for visiting strip clubs with my man in tow. Strippers leapt repeatedly into Robert's lap. Almost without thinking, I shooed them away like flies. "Get away from him! What is the matter with you?!?" The nerve! After the first couple of shoo's... I realized I had taken Robert to Ben & Jerry's only to be appalled when they offered him ice cream. Duh. I'm an idiot.

The low point? Perhaps it was a rather patronizing speech I endured which was delivered by a leggy blonde wearing only a g-string and a cowboy hat, "You know, it takes an open minded woman to bring her man here. But it takes a truly open minded woman to have fun with her man here." Oh. I see. Excuse me, Tex. Let me wrestle with that zen koan for a few, okay? But in the meantime GET THE HELL OUT OF MY BOYFRIEND'S LAP.

Eventually we found a tiny stripper dressed like a schoolgirl named Abby. She talked a lot about watching the Game Show network and she asked us if Mike Tyson had a mechanical hand. She was insane, but I liked her. So I let her sit on Robert to keep the other strippers at bay.

So, there's your slapping match, Mark.... hope you enjoyed it! Robert and I will be keeping our strip-club jaunts to a minimum from here on out. Or, at least, we'll go in groups of others of our own genders.

More later, Kiddos.... Boy did I miss y'all!


posted by mindse at 11:37 AM