Supplemental Jurisdiction

Bar Review

Happy July 4th everybody! Unless, of course you are taking the bar exam this summer, in which case today is the generally accepted start of crunch time. Up until now, you've probably been taking it fairly easy, going to Bar Bri, maybe playing some golf, whatever. Don't worry, I was the same way.

Anyway, over at Clearly Erroneous, Just another law clerk has posted 5 "tips" to prepare for the bar. Long-time readers of SJ may remember that I, too, have given five valuable tips for bar preparation. Comparing the two, mine offers much more practical advice, whereas JALC's will only help you "pass," for whatever that's worth.

Right, but seriously, that CE list be crazy:

1. Pack now? Look, the bar exam is only two days long (three if you're in a shitty state or taking two different bars). Just wear the same clothes everyday. It will demonstrate how focused you are and totally psych out your fellow bar takers (let's not forget this is a competition), who will say things like, "Holy shit, that kid is so dedicated to passing he doesn't even have time to change clothes," and "I threw up a little in my mouth when I sat down and smelled the guy next to me, who clearly hasn't changed his clothes from yesterday." Of course, you'll overhear that comment and think to yourself, "Yeah you smelled me, that's the smell of victory!" Only it won't be, it really will be B.O.

Bar Review

The bar exam is upon us again, so I thought I'd repost some of my previous advice:

1) Do: Freak out, consume NyQuil, dump your boyfriend/girlfriend. Don't: Shower, wear make-up.

2) Sabotage your fellow-bar takers by spreading misinformation; it is your only hope.

3) Perhaps it isn't the best idea to name your kids while studing for the bar.

4) My personal bar exam story and how I passed anyway.

5) The bar exam is on Tuesday. Time to cowboy (or cowgirl) up!

And now, some new words of advice: It has come to my attention, via a conversation I had with Nicky from Legally Certified, that some countries do not require you to take an exam to become an attorney. Therefore, I suggest moving to Australia. Their women are hot and their law is like common-law light.

TK Update

By now, most of you know of my dislike of Thomas Kinkade, as outlined here and here and here.

For the most up-to-date information on that wild and crazy TK, check out this story from NPR's All Things Considered. Remember people: It is your support of local NPR stations that make reports like this possible. Keep up the good work!

Bar Review

It's that time again:  the Bar exam.  Long time readers probably remember my earlier tips (available here if you don't already have them bookmarked from the last time you took the bar).  Anyway, I'm back with more:

You know that guy in your Bar-Bri class that has been studying nonstop, 12-hours a day since the class begin, while the only time you've spent "studying" is the time you've sat through the tape-record lectures?  You know the guy I'm talking about, the guy you keep saying "needs to chill out" and is "taking this thing way to seriously."  Yeah, well, I've got news for ya:  He's doing the bare minimum amount of studying.  Real gunners only need 4 hours of sleep a night.  So, you might as well give up now; you're going to fail.

However, I might have the solution to your failure problems which I learned from some of my pre-med friends in college.  In your class, find out who the real suckers are, the kids who are even bigger slackers than you.  Tell them you have some sweet outlines and you're more than happy to share them.  Then hand over a bunch of outlines with incorrect information scattered throughout.  Remember, the whole thing can't be a lie, otherwise even they will catch on.  But, leave out crucial information, such as Intermediate Scrutiny.  And spread misinformation:  Larceny is a general intent crime.  If this strategy is good enough for the future doctors of America, then surely it is ok for you who is about to become a soulless lawyer.

More tips to follow, if I think of anything.

Answer: No.

In the past, I've said that the thing I hate the most is a stupid animated Christmas card featuring "My Humps" by the Black Eyed Peas.  Truly contempt worthy.  However, I now hate something else more:  that Heineken Light ad featuring "Don't Cha?" by the Pussycat Dolls. (I can't link directly to the video, but once you're on the website, click on "The Latest" tab, then on "The Ads", then on "TV Campaign.")

If the point of this commercial is to make me want to drink any light beer other than Heineken light, then Mission Accomplished.  Yeah, I'd even take a Milwaukee's Best Light over it, cause that's keeping it real.  There's only one reason you're drinking the Beast Light, and it is to get f'd up.  In college, it was also this same rationale that led me to purchase Natural Ice over Natural Light:  There is only one reason your buying Natural Light, and it isn't for the taste, so why not kick it up a notch to 5.9% ABV with Natty Ice?

By the way, while doing a quick search to make sure I correctly remembered the ABV of Natty Ice, I came across this valuable information on the A-B website:

   * Currently being test marketed
   * Natty UP is a robust lager with caffeine
   * Caffeinated beer with real beer taste ... not sweet
   * “Natty UP. party down”

Holy shit, they're making Natty with freaking caffeine in it now.  This is so you can drink even more Natty, as clearly indicated by their Wayne's World-esque slogan.  They should market Natty UP toward law students because this fills that niche of people who desperately need beer while studying for finals. 

Also glad to see Anheuser-Busch fully embracing the "Natty" nickname as well.

We are advanced.

I found this today in those junk flyers that come with the Sunday paper:

If you have trouble reading it:

Swift, silent, intelligent . . . and deadly. When Tala hunts her enemies, she musters all the powers of the Wolf, whose image she bears on her shield.

"Tala, the Wolf Warrior" is a stunning fantasy portrait of feminine power and beauty in hand-painted resin. Bold colors accent her facial war paint and streak through her wind-tossed hair. Her sculpted shield, quiver and knife sheath have the look of stone and leather, enhanced with real feathers, beads and faux buckskin.

The bottom right hand corner of the picture reads:

Fantasy figures are creations from the artists imaginations and are not intended to reflect any ethnic culture.

Yeah, it is hard to imagine that a statue of a hot Indian girl wearing a skimpy faux buckskin bikini, and "enhanced with real feathers" and "beads," is "not intended to reflect any ethnic culture." Truly, this is "a stunning fantasy portrait of feminine power and beauty." Congratulations, women, your liberation is complete!

Urine is his medium of choice.

Those who know me know that I am all about three things:  1) the law; 2) a good gin; and 3) hating on Thomas Kinkade (as I've done here and here). 

People who are fans of Thomas Kinkade love him because he represents wholesomeness.  To these people, he's like a modern day Monet.  Specifically, a Monet hopped up on confectioner's sugar---using a candycane for a brush and a pallet of melted Skittles laced with Splenda for paint---who through a "cloning process" (for an explanation of what this entails, ask his CEO) reproduces thousands of copies of his paintings.  As one fan said, while describing TK's "style":

"It's mainstream art, not art you have to look at to try to understand, or have an art degree to know whether it's good or not," said Mike Koligman, a longtime fan who with his wife owns Kinkade galleries in San Diego and Utah.

Anyway, courtesy of the L.A. Times, comes news that TK is, in reality, decidedly less than wholesome, including, but not limited to, the following:

• Last month, an arbitration panel ordered his company to pay $860,000 for defrauding the former owners of two of his galleries.
• While drunk in Vegas, he heckled Siegfried & Roy.  He probably said something like "Siegfried and Roy, more like Siegfried and Roy Cohn."  I haven't confirmed he actually said that, of course, but if true, I agree TK's references are somewhat obscure and not altogether funny even when understood.
• He cursed a former employee's wife when she tried to help him after he drunkenly fell off his bar stool.
• At a signing party, he palmed "a startled woman's breasts." 

And finally, the winner:

• While outside the Disneyland Hotel, he urinated on a Winnie the Pooh figure while saying, "This one's for you, Walt."

Thomas Kinkade, everybody. 

At a dinner party of Kinkade-lovers, after the men have retired to the study to sip brandy and smoke cigars, and the women gossip in the parlor while discussing the latest knitting trends, do you think a conversation like this occurs:

GUEST:  [staring at a huge painting hung over a glowing fireplace]  James, this is just a beautiful painting.  What is it called?

JAMES:  Victorian Christmas IV.  It's a Thomas Kinkade.

CROWD:  Oooooooo . . . .

JAMES:  Take a closer look.

GUEST:  Can I believe my eyes?  Is that . . . .

JAMES:  Your eyes do not deceive you, good friend.  Those are actual highlights by Kinkade himself.  That's why it cost $10,000.

GUEST:  [sniffing the painting] And is that urine I detect?

JAMES:  [smiles and winks knowingly]

For a good summary of what the hell is wrong with TK, I suggest going here.  And don't forget the L.A. Times story.

More bars in more places.

Oh Cingular, how ironic you are.

Today I was working out of one of our offices in another city.  I was struggling to get cell phone service inside the office, despite being on the 25 floor, when I noticed this outside my window:

I realize it is hard to make out, but, yes, in the middle of this picture is a Cingular billboard, telling me something about "More Bars in More Places," and how Cingular is "Raising the Bar."  Mere blocks from my office---where I have to press myself against the window just to get a couple of seconds of reception---a Cingular billboard mocks me in plain view.

What am I going to do with all this junk up in that trunk? Douse it in gasoline, light a match and push it off a cliff.

Without qualification, there is no song over the last several months that I have hated as much as My Humps by the Black Eyed Peas.  What happened Black Eyed Peas?  You used to be cool.  But then you went and got Fergie, and now we've grown distant.  I don't even know who you are any more.

Seriously, after unleashing My Humps on the world, I can safely say that the second greatest threat to America is the Black Eyed Peas.  It goes: 1) Al Queda, 2) the Black Eyed Peas, 3) Britney Spears's uterus.

That was, until I saw this animated greeting card.

Now this is the thing I hate most.  I wonder if the Peas got paid for this.  In any event, someone needs to bullet to the head.  There must be a circle of hell reserved for those who draw the Lord Jesus Christ into this lyrical disaster, and profiting from it no less.  If someone sent me this Christmas card, I'd go out and key their car and slash their tires because I would have to assume we're enemies, and that's what I do to my enemies when they aren't around and have no idea who I am. 

For additional (and more coherent) commentary, check out this article in Slate.

Bar Review

Because it is that time of year again, I thought I'd lend some sage advice regarding the bar exam.

1. Now is the time to freak out. If you haven't already, then you're probably going to fail. Be sure to tell everyone over and over again that you're sure you're going to fail. Those people will then offer encouragement, saying they're sure you'll do just fine. However, none of these people have actually taken the bar before, so they have no idea how hard it is. Plus, here's something you don't know: At least 70% of everyone who says they're sure you're going to pass actually thinks you'll fail.

2. If you're a girl, stop showering and putting on make-up. Put on those ratty sweatpants and sweat shirts you used to wear during law school finals. Your boyfriend will totally understand, and without you even asking him, will give you plenty of alone time to study, especially on Friday and Saturday nights. "Don't worry about me, I'll entertain myself some other way," he'll say. And he will, with hookers. Except they won't be hookers because they'll be some skanks he picked up at a bar and they'll give it away for free. Well, they'll give it away for some free drinks at quarter draw night. So I guess they are like hookers. (If you're a guy, you probably don't shower anyway, so none of this applies to you.)

3. Get enough sleep. This is easily accomplished by chasing Sominex with three-fingers of NyQuil. Whatever your daily dosage is, double it the night before the exam. I also recommend doing this right before breaking up with your boyfriend/girlfriend.

4. Speaking of which, now is the time to break up with your boyfriend/girlfriend. They're just going to leave you for someone who showers and isn't broken out anyway (see point 2, supra). Try to be as big a jackass about it as you can. For example, if you're a girl, say something like, "Look, I'm trying to become a lawyer, and I need someone with a huge penis to get me through these difficult times. Is your brother still single?" If you're a guy, say, "I'm breaking up with you, but I'd still like to have sex with you."

5. During the actual exam, be sure to wear a shirt or sweatshirt. Said shirt or sweatshirt should have the name of your fancy law school scrawled across it for all to see. The larger the typeface, the better. I also suggest a sans serif font---it helps the eyes follow it easier. When you sit down, immediately ask the person next to you what school they attended. After they tell you, say "Oh, I could have gone there, but I thought it was smarter to go to a good school instead." Then point to the name on your shirt.

That's all the bar advice I've got in me this evening, but if you have any other questions, just email me and I'll help you out the best I can.

Fuckcake

A couple of posts ago, I noted my dislike for Thomas Kinkade.  I first realized Thomas Kinkade was a problem a couple of years ago when I saw this story on 60 Minutes.  By the way, can we take an aside here and compliment Morley Safer on this fine pink shirt he's wearing:

"I'm Morley Safer and I'm hot as shit!"

 

Dude's even got one of those pocket squares --- he's totally bangin'!

Anyway, so I saw the story on 60 Minutes, and I learned that Thomas Kinkade, besides looking like a total douche, "is the most collected living artist in the U.S. and worldwide."  Now, just go to his website and look at the crap people are apparently buying by the wheel-barrow load.  You know what is also carried by the wheel-barrow load?  Shit.  Oh, and drunks and your dead.

Thomas Kinkade is on a mission to destroy art.  Anyone who needs his CEO to explain the cloning process is attempting to destroy art, like the South Koreans are attempting to destroy science.  Basically the "process" boils down to him painting something terrible, generally a variation on a painting that's already proved marketable, and then his factory reproduces it a billion times.  Now some might say this is the democratization of art.  He is bringing art to the masses.  I agree this might be a noble goal, but this premise starts out with the assumption that this is art.  Some would say art is subjective and relative, so I'll make it easy:  This isn't art.  If you think it is, you need to put down your Precious Moments figurine and get out more.

Perhaps this is similar to the Impressionists who made thousands of mass produced prints.  However, there is a difference I think.  Those artists had technique developed in a school of thought.  Their art was meant to convey something more.  And while Thomas Kinkade may say that what he does is art, just because it's popular doesn't make it so.  I mean, The Bachelor is popular as well.