The Boy Who Sued

I'm graduating from law school this week, but more importantly, this is the end of 7 straight years of post-secondary school for myself. Unlike many of my friends in law, I went straight through: from high school to undergrad to law. I don't think there's any distinct advantage or disadvantage to doing so, the only practical difference being which generation of Law & Order cast members we identify with.

It's not lost on me that the end of my 7-year journey corresponds nicely with that of another schoolboy. I think you know who I'm talking about: we've both studied in ancient English castles, we both speak dying languages (my French to Harry's Snake-tongue) and we both narrowly survived the fatal curse of an ancient dark lord - oh, have I not mentioned that on this blog before?



Of course, I'm don't share an entirely similar situation with that of an entirely fictitious British adolescent. I have degrees in English, Economics and Law, whereas the extent of Harry Potter's education ends at grade 5, just after long division but far before algebra or basic world history. Harry is British whereas I can only fake my Cockney accent (but fairly well, I might add). And Harry prefers harsh, magical retribution, while I have a tendency to over-prescribe criminal punishments on exam questions. (Maybe that last one isn't really so different.)

Nevertheless, it's the similarities which allow me to speculate on what will happen at the end of Harry's Hogwarts career. Many people think he will die, just as people suppose that law students will kill off any last vestiges of childlike wonderment for a lifetime of hard-nosed (no pun intended, Voldemort) frugality.



No, and - although I won't be vindicated until the July release of the last novel - it's my firm belief that Harry will graduate and come to several key realizations: this magic nonsense does not hold up in court, and a simple charge of attempted murder is far more industrious than brewing any number of fakakta spells to, what, kill an old bald dude? Trust me, there's an easier way to battle guys in robes - it's called the legal system.

4 weeks later...

We're just under one month till I hand in my final final exam, and you know what that means for this site.* I'd be lying if I didn't say it's actually a bittersweet time, but there'll be plenty of time to reminisce over the next month. After all, I have to procrastinate from studying somehow. In the meantime, there are some positive developments happening outside of law school worth mentioning:

Oprah has finally selected a book I can get - and have gotten - behind. Cormac McCarthy, one of my favourite writers, is also famously reclusive, so it'll be nice to see him appear on television and, let's pray, jump on the couch.

A new show, "The Tudors," is premiering on television this week. I don't know much about it save that it features Henry VIII and it's modelled after the very R-rated "Deadwood," a fave of mine. Only time will tell if "codpiece-sucker" will be revived as the go-to swear word, much like the word Al Swearengen of "Deadwood" made popular again.

Zombies! Up until the trailer for this panic-inducing, carpet-bombing zombie spectacular appeared, 28 Weeks Later simply referred to the point at which I have to get back in school mode and attend PLTC courses in the fall. Now I just don't know which is scarier.



*That should have read, "you know what that means for this site."

Victory via Victorians

I've said it before and I'll say it again: when faced with a choice in law school between exam and a paper, always take the paper. That said, I hate writing papers. No matter how many times I latch on to inspiration and wrestle a conclusion out of a paper, the same creative struggle resumes with each new assignment. (The obvious upside, of course, is that this struggle doesn't have to play out in only three hours.)

If there's one trick I might suggest, it's a change of perspective. This can be taken literally - I often find leaving my apartment and relocating to the local Starbucks makes for a healthier more conducive environment. (Note, under no circumstances would I recommend the Curtis Building's library.) But more importantly, it's necessary to understand the overall perspective: you're writing a 25 page paper which, in the grand scheme of things, isn't that much. For instance, this site has 322 posts, averaging 250 words per, and double-spaced essay page has roughly 350 words... so essentially I've written a 230-page essay with no discernible thesis and scattershot citation.

Of course, like any writer, I ignore my own advice quite frequently. This Entertainment Law paper (about my struggles as a screenwriter) has proved no easier after a Grande dark, a Long Americano, and, to shake things up and because I like it - an Orangina.

No easier, that is, until I got a new book: Ben Wilson's The Making of Victorian Values. (It's the book with the boring-sounding title but hilarious cover that currently occupies the equal opportunity music/book java-powered showcase in this blog's sidebar.) The fact that I love the subject matter isn't the point here (though, as an aside, I find Victorians, as an historical segment of society, endlessly amusing and my favourite Shins lyric has always been "Just a glimpse of an ankle and I / react like it's 1805.")

The point is that Ben Wilson, with his immense vocabulary and amazing essay skills - is only 25. He's my age, and he's written an essay twice the length of this entire thing with a far more reliable system of citation. So, I read the prologue of this book last night and I instantly went back to my essay. Not surprisingly, I found it much easier to write: my advice, read what you like, then write what you want.

Man, I really should have been charging for this advice over the last three years.

Harry Potter and the Ghoulish Gelato

As anyone who reads this site a lot knows, (anyone?) I like to read, and not just those stacks and stacks of engrossing statutes. This last semester, however, hasn't seen me read much. It's been so lacklustre that I've actually returned to try and finish the book I was reading when I started law school - Dickens' Bleak House. Damn you 900 page tomes!

Luckily, there are new and excellent (and non-law-related) books on the horizon:

Michael Chabon - The Yiddish Policemen's Union
I've been waiting for this ever since I first put down The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay (and every time I've put it down since). Chabon is one of the very few authors I'd read word unread, (is this the literate equivalent of sight unseen?) but in this case what I know about the novel has my interest piqued. It comes out May, too late to make exam studying more bearable, but whaddya know, advance leaks aren't just restricted to the musical world...



Elmore Leonard - The Complete Western Stories
I once went through a phase where I read every Elmore Leonard novel I could get my hands on. City Primeval is still my favourite of the idiosyncratic criminal fare, but I also loved his Western stuff. In particular, "Forty Lashes Less One" - a story about two prisoners taught the art of distance running to raise their spirits, which of course inadvertently makes chasing them after a prison break that much harder. Anyway, this collection has stories like that, times thirty, plus one.



Alex Kapranos - Sound Bites
This one isn't new, nor is it really a novel. But I've come to several conclusions: (1) I'm renting an Italian villa this summer, so I'd like to be able to prepare some great meals there. (2) Typical cookbooks are normally a wasted effort on me. (3) I like Franz Ferdinand and their lead singer wrote a book about experiencing meals around the world, meals that could perhaps provide the necessary inspiration. You could have it so much better, indeed.




JK Rowling - Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows
You knew this would be on the list. Will it make it less childish if I try and read the Italian version? No? Ha valso uno sforzo.

Bleak Indeed

Darn. Seems that lawyers do, in fact, have a long history of working late hours, going back to the mid-nineteenth century, (if not even further back). I was holding out hope that these long work days were a passing fad.

From Charles Dickens' Bleak House:

It is night in Lincoln's Inn - perplexed and troublous valley of the shadow of the law, where suitors generally find but little day ... In dirty upper casements, here and there, hazy little patches of candle-light reveal where some wise draughtsman and conveyancer yet toils for the entanglement of real estate in meshes of sheepskin, in the average ratio of about a dozen of sheep to an acre of land. Over which bee-like industry, these benefactors of the species linger yet, though office-hours be past: that they may give, for every day, some good account at last.

Pow! Krak! Thud! Appeal Denied!

I've had a resurgence of nostalgia for my England days as of late. Four years ago, I was living at Herstmonceux Castle in East Sussex, living a rather carefree existence with a minimum of classes a week. Sort of like last semester of third year law.

That's why I found it such a strange and cool coincidence when I saw the following panel in a Hellboy comic:



This made me that much more a fan of Mike Mignola's woodcut-styled story. Part of the fun of Herstmonceux was walking about the grounds at night looking for evidence of these ghosts. Now while the ghost that HB describes is indeed one of the legends, people I went to the castle with would likely agree that the 9-foot tall headless drummer is the best ghost of all, specifically because he was the only one to leave a legacy of a pub named in his honour.

I almost never read comics unless it's an Alan Moore work or somehow related to one of the best books ever. But I've often thought that some case law might have been better represented in comic form. Certainly some of this snooze-inducing Admin Law could stand to use some action shots.

Wishing "Reading Week" wasn't so literal

There's really no excuse for me not to have this Entertainment Law essay done by week's end, so at least I'm off to a good start. Maybe it was a combination of the double digit warm weather, my apartment patio and the London Fog from Starbucks, but I sat down and read one of the larger books I have for my research from start to finish.

I've only ever read one novel in one sitting, Graham Greene's Ministry of Fear, (to this day one of my favorite books) when I was living in England. Actually, the circumstances were much the same - an abundance of time from having only 3 days of classes a week - except I suppose the London fog was real.

This new book is The Screenwriter's Legal Guide, a book my moot partner introduced me to back in first year when he heard I was writing a script. Like most amateur writers, I ignored all external advice, so it wasn't until this essay that I got the book out from the library. Basically the book is gold for research purposes - ironic because the point that's driven home again and again throughout the book is how unprofitable the television sector of the entertainment industry is, and in particular how little money I could expect to make from selling a spec pilot script.

Lawletting & Miraculous Cures

Classes start tomorrow and already the spring schedule has undergone a change. Gone is Trusts, which I had previously mentioned might be a problem. It was a blight on my Friday mornings anyhow, after a blank slate on Thursdays.

What's surprising is the course I've replaced it with - International Trade Law, only because I'm curious why I just didn't sign up for it originally. I racked my brain for some reason I hadn't - there are no exam conflicts, it works with my schedule, and I like the prof. I just hope come April I won't sound like Gob Bluth.

I'm back in Vancouver now. While I was at the airport (an hour delayed for an hour flight) I managed to finish one of my new books, Bloodletting & Miraculous Cures. I'm normally not a fan of Canadian fiction - I find the local street name-checking annoying, and I prefer to read about places I'd like to go to - but something about it I definitely enjoyed. Although, I do suspect it has something to do with the lack of new Grey's Anatomy episodes on TV lately (new this week!) - this book nicely closes the gap.

"You save: $5,3624.34 (40%)"

I think I've been modest with the few Christmas gift wishes I have this year. I've given up any idea of nabbing a Playstation 3 any time soon (my legal career can thank me for this). I do like books, however, because I rarely, if ever, regret amassing them like CD's.

Then I saw a certain holiday offer from Amazon.com in my inbox. (I get email offers like these after the American Amazon store came in handy for me when I needed help tracking down my uber-expensive-in-Canada Criterion Rushmore and The Third Man DVD's.)

For the megalomanical, completist booklover: The Penguin Classics Complete Library Collection. It's hard to believe that anyone would pay $8,000 for over 1,000 books, most of which are probably very dull.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to finish reading for my final year of law school.

AKA the king of mad-libs

I've just finished reading Cormac McCarthy's The Road, the sixth book of his I've read in the last few months, and one of the things I love about this writer (apart from his amusing contempt for anyone that can't translate Spanish) is his boundless vocabulary. Here are a handful of words I've just discovered since reading him:

• crenellations
• bivouacked
• toper
  
• vituperation
• charivari
  
• mendicant
• crozzled

New words to me, that is - I'm not discounting the likelihood that these appear in any number of court decisions by judges bent on flummoxing the common people. Pues, unas veces la ley puede ser mucha confundienda.

The suspense won't kill you

Tomorrow's the last first day of school. Abbreviated though it may be with one class and a BBQ, I thought it was worth mentioning. That way, in years hence, if I break my promise to never, ever go back to school, I can at least look back and enjoy some mild irony.

I ended the summer in style up the West coast, where I finished two books in one weekend, meaning I should have time to finish Cormac McCarthy's Border Trilogy sometime next May. At least in the meantime the Coen Brothers should have their adaptation of his most recent book out, No Country For Old Men (!) It was one of my favorite reads of the year, and there's no part of the movie description, "ultraviolent neo-Western," that I don't like.

I'll keep this post short because, er, it's a school night. However I can say that in the coming days I'll have some exciting developments to write about, namely things having to do with radio, magazines and me.

See you law peeps at school tomorrow, enjoy some Elevator Music.

Blunderbusses, Plagues & Pig Iron

Maybe it's a credit to law school that it makes you pursue more erudite endeavours, or maybe it's just that law school screws with what I now find enjoyable in my spare time, but this last holiday weekend when I wanted to bring along something to read, I chose a book about Shakespeare.

It turned out better than expected. Will in the World is an amazingly detailed biography of the bard, as if Guns, Germs & Steel had been written about the formation of one man let alone all of human civilization. I'm immediately adding this to my list of favorite books, because it makes eminently vivid and interesting what was previously torturous for many in high school and beyond.

To boot, I learned a few new things about Bill Shakespeare that, to a law student, were pretty amusing. For one, Shakespeare was incredibly frugal and went to court a lot, even if it was just to secure the return of six pounds.

Even better, it turns out the famous playwright likely worked at a law firm(!), and I'll let my friends in similar positions this summer determine if Greenblatt's description hits the mark: (p.71)

"The strong presence of legal terms in his plays and poems ... has led to recurrent speculation that he worked in the office of a local attorney, someone who handled minor lawsuits, title searches and the like. No doubt much of the work would have been boring..."

Zingeth!

Indiana Jones v. the Temple of Negligent Design

I solved my book problem. While wading through Amazon, I came across The Poe Shadow, a meta-historical fiction tale about Edgar Allan (obviously) and... his lawyer (bonus points). I remembered how much I enjoyed The Historian from last summer, a solid B-book and thought, Poe is just as creepy as Vlad the Impaler. Plus, an adventure story involving a lawyer? I'm for anything that might do for law what Indiana Jones did for archaeology.

Though so far, there's nary sign of a whip or fedora. Seem's like the lawyer at the heart of this story prefers ethics as his weapon of choice. To wit:

"Do you not ever feel you are becoming hackneyed by the lawyer's routine? Forget the fees. Wouldn't you wish to protect something you knew to be great that everyone else sought to desecrate? Wouldn't you wish to be part of changing something, even if it meant changing yourself?"

Admirable indeed, but could John Williams write a score around it?

I also found out that Michael Chabon, author of one of my favourite/most-recommended books, (and soon-to-be movie starring Natalie Portman) has a new one out soon. When the Yiddish Policeman's Union finally comes out in January, it'll be a welcome break from either European Union law or Municipal law reading (but more on third year class choices in a future post).

By the way, I hope everyone's watching Hell's Kitchen, now in it's third week. I just noticed the text promos that CityTV is running for it during other shows, succintly describing it as: "Gordon Ramsay makes chefs cry."

Grisham probably wrote one

I'm often asked by people outside of law school - "the Others," as we in law school affectionately call them - what's the hardest part about it? My answer's always the same, it's the reading. Not in the sense of subject matter. In fact, a lot of cases play out like little stories with memorable characters, and there's no shortage of conflict. (What are appeals but lacklustre sequels, anyway?) Rather, the difficulty is in the sheer volume.

This makes the answer to the second question I'm usually asked - what advice would I give to those starting law school - just a tad antithetical. My advice is to read more. I consider it crucial to keep a non-law book - you know, fiction - on the go during school. Law school is incredibly insular in the sense that you're exposed to the legal world, and suddenly anything outside of that becomes as heretical as a round earth in pre-Columbus days. Namely, it's easy to forget that the real world is still outside those concrete walls.

This long set up is really just an excuse for me to bring up some of my summer reading - I just finished JPod by Douglas Coupland. While it may be a stretch to say that book portrays "real life," it is a kick for any Vancouverite who'll recognize the local neighbourhoods the characters populate. It is funny on legal level too, perhaps, when you see how Coupland confronts the intellectual property rights of the subjects he wants criticize. It's irreverent books like this one that remind law students, hey, maybe Latin phrases don't contain all possible manner of saying things.

But now that that book's done with, I'm in search of some more. Anyone have suggestions? I just finished a comical French vacation book (Merde Actually), a grisly Western (Blood Meridian) and a novel about lazy video game developers (supra - see, it can't be helped.) They were all pretty good - there must be at least one novel that combines those genres...

For sooth, what hath more levity?

Nothing like a good procrastination post.

The Amazing Race is back on, and with my participation in a pool, I'm now financially invested in the show as well. It's some sort of irony that I was randomly dealt the lawyer of the contestants, Ray, or as he says, "like the sun." (Not to be confused with Lake, or as he says - I kid you not - "like the ocean.") Ray went to law school to turn upside down stereotypes of "the hood." As an Albertan, oh how I relate.

I'm also glad Count Trumpula was back on the airwaves, if only that I now have a bit more perspective on the city. He makes it seem as if the traffic parts wherever he walks, when in reality, even his hair doesn't. I was actually a tad ashamed in New York atop the Empire State Building in that the Trump Tower was the first building I recognized. It was taller than I expected, looming there like some obsidian beacon of evil.

I also recently began reading The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman, a book that only a few pages in is surely in contention for being the funniest book I have read, up there with Catch-22. (Longtime devotees of this site - ye brave few - will remember that is a book I have never finished, but it is indeed the funniest.) Anyway, read the first couple pages of Tristram for yourself. It is also handy if you find 18th century wit amongst the heights of comedy.

Finally, for those people who have not yet discovered Ricky Gervais' whipping boy, Karl Pilkington (no doubt soon to be simply K.Pilk) watch thusly.

0.1 km to another Starbucks

Been blogless for a while, but that should end, as law school part two (the second in a trilogy, missing a genuine introduction or denouement, but including the spectacular Battle of Helms Deep) has officially begun. So much to say, so I'll give some observations of the intervening period:

The drive from my door in Calgary to my door in Vancouver is precisely 999.9 kilometres.

In the film Red Eye, keep an eye out for Colby from Survivor: Australia, who doesn't portray a senatorial security guard so much as portray Colby trying to portray a senatorial security guard.

Making my way through Bleak House, I'm struck by the notion that Dickens really loved his orphans, as well as portentous portraits hung on walls.

I finally saw The Firm, (I know, I know.) Two frightening observations: one, the interview process and articling work shown is eerily familiar, and two: Wilford Brimley!

Bob Dylan's new live CD, performed 33 years ago, is unlike any other, as you can actually hear waitresses clearing plates in what sounds like an empty cafe. Check out Moonshiner and Barbara Allen, up there with the best of them.

When I saw U2, I didn't know an audience could go so nuts for a band - until I saw Pearl Jam play GM Place.



Despite being a blight on my Tuesday and Thursday mornings, Evidence is shaping up to be an amazing class, and putting me one step closer to annoyingly - but correctly - yelling "hearsay" to everything my friends say I disagree with.

The surprise you feel when you receive a gigantic Taxation textbook free begins to fade when you realize the similarly large local phone book is also free, and eminently more useful.

Lawyerlike

The new Mac is on its way, arriving soon by stork or whatever superior way Apple chooses to have things delivered. In the meantime, I have to figure the best way to transfer this cache of tunes I've got on the current laptop over to the new one. I suspect this cooperation between Microsoft and Apple is going to be a bit like bitter exes returning personal possessions to each other after a nasty breakup. "No, this word document stays with me! But that virus is yours."

This new Dracula book is actually quite creepy. I haven't felt legitimately uneasy reading a book since Poe's Murders in the Rue Morgue, but something about Kostova's pacing and the visual quality of the writing - that and the ghastly vampiric killings - just quickens the pulse a little.

Assuming the book's research was honestly done, (for a novel called The Historian, I'd damn well hope so) apparently Vlad the Impaler was not your garden-variety impaler. Some passages offer graphic descriptions of the Prince's (not Count) techniques that would make the Marquis de Sade blush.

Planting a garden? Ever considered a "forest of the impaled?"


Stereogum put up the first Broken Social Scene song from the new album, which is now unfortunately self-titled. I'm not a fan of the self-titles. At least when Sigur Ros did it they went the whole nine yards and didn't give any songs titles. (Incidentally, Torr has brand new Victory Rose songs up.)

Of course, there's no guarantee that I'll like any album title. To wit, the latest quandary is the new offering from the Tragically Hip. The first strike against it is that it's a best-of collection. Typically these are contractually obligated offerings meant to give the band a break from recording and some quick cash for the record company. But thankfully these 35 (!) tracks have been chosen by fans.

But back to the title: it's called Hipeponymous. Clever or cheesy? To settle the dispute, I'll point out that it must be a subtle nod to R.E.M.'s first best-of album, and any nod to that band can't be all bad.

I haven't seen the tracklist, but here's hoping it includes "Flamenco," which is nipping close at the heels of Miles Davis for one of the best things I've ever heard. But a tracklist I do like is from the new Ryan Adams album, or album number six of the last five years.

Hmmm, more links.... oh, some funny, random McSweeney's post.

And an interesting discovery by a fellow lawblogger, about bloggers: apparently I'm American, and my new Mac is only the beginning of a "unhealthy" fascination with computers.

Like the Neverending Story, but good

First round of law registration is out of the way. I nabbed most of my important classes (International, Charter, Tax, Corporations, my International seminar) with no problem, except Evidence in the spring filled up rather fast. Anyone feel like slogging through the 8:30 a.m. Evidence classes with me all year?

With Harry Potter now "leaked," (thanks to keen Vancouverites) I suppose no plunder is too nerdy for a pirate. I suspect those that Entertainment Weekly describes as “rogue Canadians” more closely resemble soccer moms who, on their way to pick up some Capri Sun and Dunkaroos for the kids (do they still have those?), noticed the book and innocently picked it up. I’ve heard reports that the book is on BitTorrent sites, but how does that even work? Is it an mp3 of a child reading the book?

Chapter 1. Harry awoke to a de... deef... mom how do you say that word? Deh-fun-ing. What does it mean?
...
(Delete from playlist.)

My copy arrives on Saturday, banking on the notion that since postal workers are angry already, making them deliver heavy bundles on a weekend morning can’t do much more harm. This gives me only a few days to finish The Known World, a novel which deserves a place in the tiny pantheon of Books You Don’t Want to End. Like A Fine Balance or East of Eden, Jones’ book has such a compelling array of storylines that each could go on forever and I doubt I’d mind.

But enough of literature - sort of. Last night, I did miss the yell-fest that is Hell’s Kitchen, (summer guilty pleasure #1) but I was surprised to find that National Geographic aired the first part of Guns, Germs and Steel: the Documentary. I’m now convinced that Jared Diamond is one of the coolest scholars around. Aside from looking like a bald Dustin Hoffman and tanned like a motherfocker, the guy clearly looks like he’s having a ball spending most of his time in the jungle of New Guinea.

That said, if there’s one thing off about the series, it’s that it basically deifies Diamond for “solving” the question of how human societies evolved in the ways that they have. Narrator Peter Coyote lauds Diamond in, come to think of it, almost the exact same way he describes the functions of the Brita water filter, a commercial Coyote previously narrated: “A clear, refreshing take…”

In my opinion, Diamond was nothing but modest in how he used common sense to describe what he did: societies are the result of their environment, plain and simple. The man didn’t discover some ancient Rosetta-stone, he just observed that planting a seed is a tad more effective than getting all sweaty for a less-than-nutritious animal. One method allows you to feed a government and army, the other gives you cries of, “mammoth again?”

I’m not sure when the next episode of GGS is on, but in the meantime I’m going to view my nouvelle DVD, A Very Long Engagement. Any French-loving cinephile (and really, who doesn’t like the French) will appreciate the incredible recreation of WWI-era Paris.

And dude, c'mon, a soldier lobs a grenade into a plane from the ground. That’s so Die Hard.

War & Peace & Vampires

First, a kudos to my hermano for giving this site a certain je ne sais quoi. I was getting tired of the default Denver Bronco paint scheme, so I mixed things up a bit, and added racing stripes which I think are pretty sharp.

I spent some of my lazy long weekend finishing a book, Oh, Play That Thing. The Onion's review is pretty smack on - the book is disappointing. I was a little wary of the premise from the get go: Irish rebel Henry Smart flees for America and by chance, becomes a hitman/manager for then rising star, Louis Armstrong.

As anyone who has ever read Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles can attest, music is boring on the page. Interview with the Vampire was a great historical-fiction narrative with, like any good novel should have, a slice of vampirism (it also made a damn good film). But, in some misguided attempt to be hip, Rice set the follow up novel, The Vampire Lestat, in modern day where the titular character actually joins a rock band. If you think nu-metal bands are lame, imagine reading a book about one.

I'm beginning to wonder if second year law reading is at all like first year. When you study Criminal or Tort law, there's a good chance you'll get to read about blunderous robbers or accidental amputations. However, I have a feeling Corporations or Taxation might have decidedly less juicy cases.

I guess the sentencing aspect of those cases is where it's at. Guilty of fraud? I sentence you to ten months in jail, and one season of mediocre reality TV!

Irish zombies? Well that's easy

Decisions to make:

Indulge my affection for all things zombie, and see Romero's Land of the Dead this weekend? Or, respect my aversion to all things Leguizamo and simply tend to my season 1 24 DVD? I guess the deciding factor is that the flick features a cameo from two of the funniest Brits around (after David and Gareth of course), men no stranger to the art of the undead. (But of course, Ryan, the answer is always zombies!)

After just finishing Malcolm Gladwell's Blink (an author who, by the way, out-music-geeked me - who the hell is this Kenna dude that he spends a whole chapter on?) I'm now deciding between poor Roddy Doyle, who has been shuffled down my reading pile since Christmas, or this Edward P. Jones book The Known World I'm eager to get to. Hmm, a book about slavery later in the summer could be a good lead-in to my fall human rights class, so I'll opt for skull-cracking Irish immigrants for now.

Now on to enjoy the weekend. I'll leave you with this, representing the confluence of my love for Spinal Tap and hilarious Oasis interviews.

(Et pour la personne qui ecrit en francais au dessous, keep 'em coming! Or you, mi amigo abogado, escriba algo en espanol!)