Opinion Roundup

I haven't posted something on here about my opinions on various stuff, mostly because I haven't had the time to think things through well enough to post an intelligent opinion. Still, I've been thinking about a bunch of stuff. So, I'm going to post a few issues and then post my initial reactions. These are subject to change as more discussion and thought take place. Please weigh in.

1. Ban on demonstrations and military funerals.
The Rising Jurist has already discussed this, and I must say that I disagree with his conclusion. I agree with tRJ when he says that demonstrating at a funeral is in bad taste. Further, it seems to me that demonstrating at a funeral is very unlikely to gain you support or do much for your cause. I mean, Fred Phelps demonstrating at the funeral of Matthew Shepherd is pretty fucking tasteless, offensive, and downright dumb.

However, we live in a society where we are (theoretically) allowed to be tasteless, offensive and dumb. No one has to listen to Mr. Phelps, no one has to take him seriously, but the fact that he's allowed to do the stupid, hurtful things that he does is important; it means that the sentiment Voltaire expressed in that oft-quoted quote are alive and well (at least I think it was Voltaire). We should be a society where we fight to the death for someone's right to say something we despise. Why should that principle change or bend or falter when we don't like where someone is saying something? Except in very narrow circumstances, it shouldn't.

This piece of legislation marks the beginning of a slide down a slippery slope. It means that we can regulate where people are allowed to speak freely. Right now, they can't do so at military funerals. In the next few years, perhaps we won't be able to demonstrate at churches or abortion clinics. Pretty soon, "free speech zones" are the rule rather than the exception, and that's just not ok.

And I don't want to hear any rhetoric about disrespecting the troops. I won't bore you with rhetoric about how awesome the troops are, but what I will say is that freedom isn't free. And I don't mean that in the stupid country song sort of way. I mean that in the sense that I give up my right to tell you what you can and cannot say (and where) in order to be free from your regulation of my speech. It's an average reciprocity of advantage sort of a thing. If it were my child being burried, I wouldn't really appreciate demonstrators, but that wouldn't give me (or anyone else) the right to say that those demonstrators can't be there.

Rhetoric leads to my next opinion:

2. Murtha speaks out again, gets accused of being anti-troop. (I link to this particular article because it's the only one I could find with video.)
Fuck you, Sean Hannity. Seriously. This continues several terrible trends: a) horrible abuses of rhetoric to distort and mislead, b) accusing those you don't agree with or don't like of being terrorists, unpatriotic, anti-troops, or all of the above, and c) discouraging, on all fronts, an open debate about . . . anything.

Look, the fact is that it looks like some American troops in Haditha killed some innocent civilians. This is deplorable. Our troops should be held to a higher standard, and if they fail to live up to that standard, they should be punished swiftly and justly. But, no, our high-ranking military officials cover it up. So, it's not enough that some of our troops (and it must be emphasized that these evil men constitute a very, very small minority) senselessly kill innocent people in cold blood, something which, while inexcusable, can at least be chalked-up by stress. No, the people in charge of our military, presumably not under the constant stress of being young, in a foreign country and having to watch their friends die, implicitly condone those actions.

With just that you have enough to point out that something's wrong. And Congressman Murtha pointed that out, only to be baselessly attacked by Hannity and some other morons. Murtha gets up there and says that our troops are under stress, etc., and that this pushed them to kill innocents. Does he accuse all of our troops of being evil? No. He merely points out that some men, unjustifiably but perhaps predictably, snapped and did something evil. And he gets slammed and vilified for it. For speaking his mind, for calling an atrocious massacre an atrocious massacre, for suggesting that the perpetrators should be brought to justice, Mr. Murtha gets called names on national television.

Seriously, people, what the fuck is going on.

And, on a much lighter note:

3. Superman Returns is going to kick ass, but the new trailer's not my favorite.
It left me cold for a few reasons:

1. No Superman Theme. I don't know, I just love that music, and I missed it. And it doesn't help that what we get in exchange is crappy music by someone who is not John Williams.
2. C'mon, does Superman Returns really need bullet time? I mean, do we really need a slow motion shot of a bullet bouncing off of Superman's eye? It's cool, I guess, but it rubs me the wrong way.
3. Too spoilerish. Maybe I'm wrong and there are a lot of surprises in the movie that haven't been revealed, but this trailer looks like it gives a lot away. That sucks since I've been trying to stay completely spoiler free for this one.
4. That shot of Superman falling is too static. I mean, c'mon.
5. Elevator scene. I wasn't crazy about it. Plus, wouldn't someone wonder why there was a giant Clark Kent-shaped hole in the roof of that elevator car?

Still, there are good things:

1. Kevin Spacey. He's still awesome.
2. Lois Lane. I think Kate Bosworth is growing on me as Lois Lane after some initial doubt.
3. The flying all looks awesome. It really does. I'm really looking forward to the plane scene.
4. I think Brandon Routh will be good as Superman. I still don't know if he'll surpass Christopher Reeve, though.

So, let me know what you guys think.

Great Motherfuckin' Weekend

Sorry that I haven't posted in a few days. The reason is that I was busy having a fucking awesome weekend in Chicago. Let's recap:

I awoke early Saturday morning. The plan was to get on the road by 9am. I was just a few minutes late to pick up my cohorts for the weekend:

Purple Hays (left) and Emily-in-Chief (right).

Mr. Cole Ruby.

And, of course, your humble narrator.

So, we weren't too late in getting on the road. The primary motivation for our trip (besides the shared desire to get the hell out of Madison for a while), was the Cubs v. Braves game. I was excited to see my second MLB game, my first being the Diamondbacks v. Tigers game I saw at the Bank One Ballpark (the BOB, for those in the know) the season that the D-backs won the World Series. I was particularly excited to see the game at Wrigley Field, especially given that field's connection to the Blues Brothers.

As we're driving down on the horrible toll road between Madison and Chicago, we exit at one of the oasisi and get some food. Purple Hays and Cole both had McDonald's, and a disturbing trend was set. Emily-in-Chief had some Subway, and I ate panda, which tastes remarkably like orange chicken. We got back on the road and, at about noon, I asked what time the game started, assuming that it was supposed to start at about 1:30. Cole found the tickets in the glove compartment and explained that the game actually started at 12:20, just ten minutes from then. Oh fuck. And we're stuck in traffic.

Well, as luck would have it, we only missed about an inning and a half. When we got to the game, the Cubs were winning 1-0. By the time we got to our seats (which were, literally, the worst seats you could possibly buy while not being in the stands in the outfield), however, the Cubs had allowed the Braves to score twice. Two motherfucking times.

Our view from our seats.

Seats built into the top of neighboring apartment buildings - awesome!

Inadvertantly lined up in size order.

So, now it was the third inning, and the Cubs are down by one. And that's how it would stay for the remainder of the game. The bottom of the ninth got a little interesting, though. The Cubs managed to get guys on first and second. The batter fucked around until the count was full. There was one final, pivotal pitch. And . . . the worst anticlamax ever. The batter swung, and he hit the ball. The problem was that it was the most half-assed swing I've ever seen. It was like he couldn't decide between swinging, not swinging and bunting (which is strange because I was screaming at him to bunt). So, given his indecision, the batter did the best he could to find the perfect midpoint between those three things, so the ball went about 10 feet, got caught, and the game was over. It was pathetic.

After the game we went to McDonald's for a second time. Really strange. After McD's, we went to out hotel, where a good amount of shrieking came from the girls upon discovering their sleep number beds. After getting settled at our hotel, we took the hotel shuttle to O'Hare, then took the El down to Wicker Park. We walked around for a few minutes, during which I expressed my need to be in a bigger city. Chicago, specifically. Anyway, eventually we found a bar/restaurant called Salud, which billed itself as a "Tequila Lounge." Now, Emily loves tequila, so we went in. Little did we know that it would be the start of an amazing night.

Emily's in love with her mango margarita. Also, I take almost any opportunity to pose - even when I'm not the subject of the picture.

Sometimes you've gotta chug a margarita.

Pretty much an awesome picture.

We also ate at Salud and, goddamnit, it was awesome. I had a seared tuna steak with guacamole. Completely fucking off the hook.

Eventually, Ryan, Maureen and Trevor joined us, and fun was had by everyone. We continued drinking a shitload of margaritas. If memory serves, I had about 6. At one point I was triple fisting two margaritas and a Pacifico.

Mr. Ryan McNamara.

Too Fucking Cute.

With all of us in tow, we headed down to another bar just down the street - Rodan. I liked that bar a lot less than Salud, but we kicked it there for a while before heading back to Salud, where we rounded out the night with - you guessed it - more margaritas.

I am a right sexy superhero.

The ladies of the Senior board.

Me and Mauree, one of my favorite pictures ever.

Cole and Purple Hays - they may be short, but they pack a lot of cool into their scant height.

Anyway, after all that drinking, we were fucking tired. We walked to the El station, rode the train back up to O'Hare, caught our shuttle (after talking to a nice security guard with a dog) and hit the sack in our sleep number beds, but not before heading to IHOP for some incredibly shitty food.

I gotta be honest, I was struggling at this point.

We awoke the next day, checked out, had an unbelievable meal at the Cheesecake Factory, and then did a good amount of shopping. We stopped at the IKEA, where we took one hell of a rest stop on some of the display furniture.

Not pictured: Cole, who insisted on taking this picture.

After buying a coffee table with enough room to store a dead body in it, it was sadly time to bid farewell to the Windy City. We took the "scenic route" through Lake Geneva and arrived home at about 8:30. Purple Hays and Cole and I went and watched "Over the Hedge," which was great, and then hung out with Rachel and her sister.

Today, we all went over to Brat Fest and then went to Rachel's sister's place for a BBQ. Another great day, and a perfectly relaxing end to what was, honestly, one of the best weekends in recent memory, and definitely the best Memorial Day weekend ever. And, like Purple Hays says, "It's not rocket surgery."

Thank God That Was "The Last Stand"

Wow, what a steaming pile of disappointment.

I can't wait until You-Know-Who Returns.

Now I have to go to bed - I have to be at work in 7 hours.

Rachel is the Queen of the Bluebook

As demonstrated by these pictures:





Therefore, I hereby retract my statements made hereinbelow.

The Wheel in the Sky Keeps on Turning . . .

So, today was my sixth day of work. So far, I think the job is going really well. I really, really like the people and the firm and the work. It's pretty sweet.

In other news, I had to reengage with Law Review today. Today was the day that the 1L packets were due. Really exciting, actually. I'm really excited to see who gets on. I really am looking forward to my WLR responsibilities next year, even though I'm going to be busy as shit. I'm also really excited to work with everyone - from the other members of the board, to the other 3Ls to the incoming 2Ls. I really think it's going to be an awesome, educational, trying, hard, rewarding, fun experience. I actually haven't looked forward to school this much since . . . ever.

I sat in on something called a "NASA" today. It's basically one of two final read-throughs of an article that the two SMEs and the EIC go through before the article is deemed ready for publication. "NASA" apparently used to stand for something, but either no one remembers what it stood for or no one cares, because the only reaction I get when I ask what it stands for (I love knowing the meaning of abbreviations like that) is an eyeroll and a diatribe about how much the term sucks.

Anyway, I sat in on this NASA with the outgoing SMEs and EIC because NASAs will be one of my main responsibilities next year. A NASA basically consists of a very close, very thorough reading of the article in which everything from grammar and puncuation to Bluebook compliance is checked, with each of the three people involved having their own article and pointing out each and every flaw they see. It's a painstaking process that takes about one hour per ten pages of the article. The article I worked on was only 36 pages long, and we were actually ahead of schedule because it took us only 3 hours. New EIC's article was over 80 pages long. That must have sucked for her.

In any event, it was really intimidating sitting with EIC and the two SMEs while they ran through this process. They've been doing this for a long time at this point, and they're like a well-oiled machine. They've got their shit down. Perhaps my board will be like that someday, but not right now. And it was humbling because one of the SME's knowledge of the Bluebook is as far beyond mine as mine is beyond Rachel's.

So, that was my afternoon. That and a few drinks with New EIC and S.Admin.E.

I'm starting to adjust to my new schedule and I have to say: it's not that bad.

So, all in all, today is a good day in the life of Andy.

Red Pill/Bue Pill

I rarely dream. Or, at the very least, I rarely remember dreaming. I almost never wake up in the morning or the middle of the night and think "Whoa, what an awesome dream!" And, when I do dream, it's either awesome or really scary. And the mood of the dream will be opposite of what's going on in my real life. So, let's say that I'm dreading doing something the next day, or I'm really sad for whatever reason. In that case, I'd have a dream where I get everything I've ever wanted out of life. Then I wake up and I have to face the world, and it seems that much more shitty because I just had to give up this awesome dream life. Or if something awesome's going on my life, I'll dream about everyone I love dying. Before last night, my most fucked up dream involved me being in a car that was getting shot at by a guy on the street and getting shot in the head, and thinking over and over again "well, that's it, I'm going to die. Wow." And then everything in the dream went dark. And then I woke up. That was some fucking scary shit. In general, though, I don't dream very much.

That's why last night was extraordinary. I had at least four dreams that I can remember. The first one was one of those dream-inside-a-dream dreams. It was fucked up because it was combined with one of those oh-shit-I-can't-fucking-move states. I can't really remember much about that one. Another one was about me, Katherine, Ryan, Cole and Chris playing Magic: The Gathering at my old high school. That one was really strange and sort of nostolgic. The third was about being woken up from a dream (possibly the M:TG one) by a knocking on my door. When I went to the door, there were two government officials outside, demanding to get in and inspect my apartment because neighbors had complained about how messy it was. There were also two of my neighbors out there, demanding to get in. I was also on the phone with Katherine while this was all going on.

But it was my last dream of the night that was not only the most fucked up of last night, but also the most fucked up one I've ever had. Here's how it went:

I wake up in my bed, but I can't move or talk. At first, this is scary in and of itself. Really fucking scary. Then, I hear that people are trying to get into my apartment. So I start freaking out, totally trying to scream or get up, but being completely unable to. Now, my eyes are closed this whole time, so I can't even see anything. But you know how when your eyes are closed, you can still tell if there's a change in light levels? Well, even though my eyes were closed (and I couldn't open them), I saw that there was an increase in light level and then a decrease. I knew this could only mean one thing: whoever was trying to get into my apartment had succeeded. I was freaking the fuck out, I still couldn't move or scream for help. Finally, the light decreased again, and I knew it meant that they were in my room. I'm fucking crazy with fear. I can feel that they're getting closer and closer. Finally, through sheer willpower, I manage to be able to get my arm to move, but I still can't open my eyes. So I move my arm and hand and force my eyelid open to see . . .

That I was dreaming about people breaking into my apartment, and it was actually just my mom and grandma. I'm feeling all loved and whatnot, but that lasts literally about half a second because . . .

I woke up again. And I thought "whoa, that was a fucked up dream. I'm going to want to blog about that later, so I'd better write it down so I'll remember it." So I walked out of my bedroom and into the area where my poker table is and started writing on one of the many whiteboards on the walls. Just as I was trying to figure out exactly how to express what had happened in my dream . . .

I realized that I was still in bed with Smash purring next to me. There were four fucking levels of dream. Insane.

So now I'm walking around wondering when I'll wake up again.

Best Thing Ever

I'll be honest: I stole this from Overheard in Law School. It doesn't matter. What matters is that you go here. Now!

If that's not the best thing EVER, I don't know what is.

"It stopped tickin' when he took a lickin'." Classic!

New Poll

Well, the results are in, and it looks like douchebags are the number one problem with the world. 30.19% of you think that douchebags are a blight on the face of the Earth. I can't say I disagree or that I'm surprised. Bottom line: douchebags are bad. Evil, even.

Second plance, I have to say, was a bit of a surprise. Rachel, apparently, is the second worst thing in the world with 24.53% of the vote. I must say, I'm surprised. I didn't think Rachel would get that many votes. There were times when Rachel was giving douchebags a run for their money. Really fucking strange. I must say, as bad as Rachel is, douchebags are way worse.

Rachel was the only thing that gave douchebags a run for it's money: the next world-wide problem was David Hasselhoff generally, with a distance 11.32%. He was followed by the lack of free bacon on days other thatn Tuesday, with 9.43%. Then, a three-way tie between Urban Outfitters, the Remington Center, people who don't know the difference between a sousaphone and a tuba, and Mr. Hasselhoff's musical stylings, each with 5.66%. Bringing up the rear was drum circles, with a pathetic 1.89%. Drum circles are definitely worse than the tuba thing - what's wrong with you people?

Anyway, enjoy the new poll.

Scattered to the Four Winds

So, summer is upon us. While this is a generally awesome thing as it means no classes, no finals, no studying and no school generally, there is also one large downside: the law school folk have left Madison in droves. I can literally count on one hand the number of good friends that will be in town this summer. While those friends are awesome, I will greatly miss the people who are gone.

Still, a lot of my friends are in Chicago, which means they're close and that I have an excuse to go to my favorite city. And, of course, everyone will be back next year and we'll all be 3Ls. And, as Zachar has pointed out several times: What sucks about being a 3L? NOTHING! But, that's not really true. There's one thing that's shorta shitty about being a 3L: the real world is but one year away.

I didn't have to deal with "facing the real world" syndrome the last time I graduated from something because I came straight here. I didn't have to worry about getting a real job or paying off debt. But now I do. Or at least I will. And while this mostly excites me (when I first got to law school, I couldn't wait to be a "real person") it also terrifies me a little bit.

And I think I'll miss everyone from law school when this little adventure is over, too. But, then, I managed to keep in touch with most people from college, although I need to call Medley back. And it looks like a lot of people are moving to Chicago. Hopefully, hopefully, hopefully, I will be moving to Chicago after law school, also. I do love it down there. But even that has a downside: I'd have to take the bar.

Still, the summer is here and I should enjoy it. I have a few trips to Chicago to look forward to this summer, and an excellent 3L year. The real world can wait for a few more months.

I Have Joined the Ranks of the Employed

So, Monday was my first real day at work. It was a fucking day and a half. First off, Katherine, whose job I'm taking over, insisted that I get there at 8:30. So I did. I was the first person there, which was rather strange. I used Katherine's bent key to get in, then went to my office (I fucking have an OFFICE!) and started reading through some of the things that one of the lawyers had assigned me on Friday. After a while, I heard someone else come in, so I figured I should let them know I was there. It was one of the secretaries, and, boy, was she freaked out.

Anyway, the lawyers all rolled in at about 9 or 9:30, and I had stuff to do right away. The lawyer I do most of the work for really expected me to jump in right away. At the time, it was incredibly overwhelming, but now I'm starting to realize that he was expressing an amazing amount of confidence in me, so I actually really appreciate it.

Everyone I work with has bee incredibly nice and helpful so far. They've answered all my numerous questions patiently and thoroughly. I was excited about my job before, but I'm even more excited now that I'm actually there.

I hate having to wake up early, though.

After work on Monday, Katherine and I met up for dinner to discuss our first days at our respective firms. I think she was pleasantly surprised by her first day at her new firm. We went to Ginza of Tokyo and had an awesome hibachi dinner in which I had steak and lobster, which was pretty much amazing. Then we went to the Great Dane to meet up with Nidhi and some of her other friends. It was nice to see Nidhi since we hadn't seen her in so long. Unfortunately, neither Katherine nor I could stay for very long cause we both had to get up early.

My second day, Tuesday, also went really well, and I was given even more responsibility, which is simultaneously exciting and scary. I'm sure I'll figure it out.

I woke up today and I'm feeling kinda sick, which sucks. I've been feeling it for a few days, but the feeling's gone away during the day. I think I might feel this through the day, though, which sucks. I'll just have to make sure to get an excellent night's sleep tonight.

Anyway, I gotta go to work. I'm planning on keeping the blogging about work to a minimum because that seems like a good idea, but Here is No Why will be frequently updated through the summer.

3L

I handed in my last final on Friday. The lag between the handing in and the blogging is due to the fact that I needed a few days to . . . reflect, I guess. Also, I apparently got massively drunk last night. I say "apparently" because I really don't remember being very drunk. Perhaps that's more of an indication of how ridiculously drunk I was, though.

So, now only one year stands between me and my J.D. Unbelievable, really. It seems like very recently that my friends and I were driving across the country, heading to a state I had never been to, driving through some of the shittiest parts of America (read: New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma). It seems very recently that those same friends and I moved me into my apartment. It seems like no time at all has passed since the first day of classes of my first year.

There's an old saying about law school: First year, they scare you to death, second year, they work you to death, and third year they bore you to death. There was definitely a fair amount of umitigated fear that first year. Law school's different from other school somehow. I can't really put my finger on it, but it just is. And there's not just school. My personality is such that I am a polarizing figure: there are very few people who have a neutral opinion of me. During my first year, that came to the fore and I was certain that law school would enatail a great deal of loneliness and misery.

But first year ended, and I made some awesome friends. I remember the end of the first year party at State Street Brats. I also remember being given a shot by the members of the Wisconsin Law Review. It seems like no time has passed since then.

The second year was definitely a lot of work. But also a lot of fun. It's definitely been a great year. I have a large group of awesome friends. I can't really express how awesome my friends are, but they're great. And school itself has become infinitely less scary. Maybe not scary enough: I becamse so complacent this semester that I might not have worked hard enough. But, then, that seems to have been a common affliction.

And there was Law Review, simultaneously a hugely rewarding and incredibly draining experience. But I've loved every minute of it. Certainly, a highlight must have been handing out shots to the 1Ls after their last final. Just . . . crazy circle of life shit.

And tomorrow's my first real day of work at an actual law firm that, from what I've seen so far, is full of awesome people. I'm both excited and terrified.

I remember when law school started. The 3Ls were almost mythical figures. They were never at school or in the library. They all seemed to know so much and walk with so much confidence. They were intimidating figures. And now here I am, a 3L myself. Together with my classmates, we are the Lords of the Law School, Rulers of the Lawbrary. It's really almost hard to believe that in but one year's time I will be a full-fledged adult. I only hope I have a job.

And I hope I am worthy of the title "3L." And I say bring on the boredom.

New Poll Ideas?

Ok, it's time to set up a new post, but I need a good idea. Any suggestions?

"What the Hell was Anything There?"

Ok. So, Cole and Chris and I went to watch Mission: Impossible III tonight. The following contains spoilers, assuming you can understand what's going on. I'm not making anything up (although I might refer to actors by the names of characters they've played in the past) (I know I'm stealing Cole's schtick, I hope he can forgive me. Cole, at your request, I will take this post down). Still, this isn't a review: it's a summary.

Ok, so, M:I III.

Tom Cruise has settled down. He's no longer a field agent for IMF (which we find out later stands for "Impossible Mission Force," which is the lamest thing I've ever heard.). Now, he works training new field agents. However, the only person he's actually recommended for field duty is Felicity. Fine, whatever.

As the movie starts, Tom is called back to active duty by Douchebag, who informs Tom that Felicity has been kidnapped by Truman Copote. Tom is reluctant to leave Hot Girl and go back into the field, but he must because he feels that Felicity is his little sister (although he hasn't fucked his little sister, as Marsellus Wallace makes sure to ask about). So, Tom goes and saves Felicity. Except that then Felicity dies before she can impart Secret Wisdom upon Tom. So, Tom, Marsellus Wallace, Douchebag with an Accent, and Hot Ambiguously Ethinic Woman decide to bring down Truman Copote. Despite the fact that Morpheus has told us that Truman Capote is "invisible," Tom and Co. find out where he's going to be on a given day: The Vatican. Now, even though the Vatican allows thousands of visitors a day, Tom has to execute an ellaborate break-in scheme. After destroying some probably priceless art, Tom (through Spy Magic) turns into Truman Capote. Then, the crew blows up a Lambourghini (because the IMF expense fund is limitless, apparently).

So, now they've got Capote. Cool. Marsellus Wallace then decodes a secret message from Felicity to Tom, which tells him that Morpheus is working with Capote. Then some terrorists attack a bridge, speak in a foreign language, break out Capote, but don't kill Tom of his cohorts.
More importantly, why the fuck are they attacking a bridge with missles? If they're so sophisticated and hooked-up, why not do something more . . . discrete? Whatever. Then, Tom leaves because he knows that Capote is going to go after Hot Girl. But he gets there too late, and gets taken down by. . . IMF agents under the direction of Morpheus. WHOA! But, hold on, Douchebag tells Tom where to go to save Hot Girl: he has to get the Rabbit's Foot and give it to Capote, who will then give him Hot Girl. So Tom goes to China, where Marsellus Wallace and Co. find him and offer their help. Huh? Oh, Douchebag sent them. Cool. Ok, so, Tom and Co. wrangle up several million dollars worth of expert spy equipment including, but not limited to, two Range Rovers. Tom, in an act of complete impossibility (which we don't see! Instead, we're shown the only piece of character development in the whole movie, which then gets immediately forgotten), manages to recover the Rabbit's Foot from a super-secure (though not really) Chinese building. What's the Rabbit's Foot? A small glass cylinder with a biohazard symbol. Cool.

Then the drop happens. Tom takes a sedative and wakes up tied in a chair with Capote holding a gun to Hot Girl's head. Capote tells Tom he'll kill Hot Girl unless he's given the Rabbit's Foot. Eventually Capote kills Hot Girl and disappears . . . excpet that . . . it's not hot girl. It's some other girl wearing one of those Mission: Impossible masks. Whoa. Then - get this - Douchebag shows up and explains that the Rabbit's Foot can't be authenticated, so they had to make sure Tom actually gave them the Rabbit's Foot. Ok? So Douchebag is the traitor! He's in cahoots with the bad guy! He was using Tom to get the Rabbit's Foot. (Nevermind the fact that, as Tom's superior, Douchebag could have just ordered Tom to get the Rabbit's Foot. Further, this makes the bridge attack make even less sense: Why couldn't Douchebag, a high-ranking official at IMF, just release Capote?). Tom then breaks out of his shackles, disables Douchebag, calls up Shaun of the Dead, gets directions to where Hot Girl actually is, runs there, gets pointed to the gun-wielding terrorists by some old Chinese people, and then gets the shit beaten out of him by Truman Capote (who's conveniently reappeared). Then Truman Capote tells Tom that there's an explosive in his head that - for no fucking reason - will blow up four minutes from now. Why can't it blow up instantly? I don't know. And neither does Tom. And neither does Truman Capote. And the person with the least idea why is the screenwriter. So, then Tom kills Truman Capote, saves Hot Girl, kills himself (in order to save his own life), gets revived by Hot Girl (conveniently a nurse), and tells her about the Impossible Missoin Force.

Kosher? Now, let's review what Tom's done throughout the course of the movie: He failed to rescue Felicity. He fell for the misinformation that Morpheus was the traitor. He committed acts of terrorism against two soverign foreign governments (The Vatican and China). He stole the Rabbit's Foot, a tremendously powerful weapon, and then delivered it to a known terrorist and war monger, merely to save a girl. Then he reveals the existence of a TOP SECRET government organization? Obviously, he gets tried at The Hague, right? Or at least gets put on trial for treason? No, none of those. Ok, well, he gets fired? No. Does he at least have a confrontational relationship with Morpheus? No. Morpheus congratulates him on a job well done. Then, Tom gets offered a job by the White House. *double take* WHAT? Yeah, it makes no fucking sense. But here's the worst part: we never get to find out what the unbelievably powerful "Rabbit's Foot" is. It was a fucking MacGuffin. And if there's one thing I hate, it's MacGuffins.

So, the movie featured explosions, technology, cars, girls, and explosions. But the plot (if indeed there was one) was incomprehensible. Hence the title of this post, a direct quote by Cole.

The obligatory closing:
Your mission, should you choose to accept it: understand why anything in this movie happened to anyone for any reason ever.

The Moment You've All Been Waiting For

Here it is, everyone!

*drumroll*

OFFICIAL HERE IS NO WHY MERCHANDISE!!

That's right, for around $15 you can pronounce to your friends, family, and people who walk past you on the street that Andy Martinez is not a sexist.

I would have made the price lower, but these are the absolute minimum prices the site will allow you to use. I am making zero profit, so please don't feel gouged.

Anyway, I'll put a permanent link to the store in the sidebar when I'm not supposed to be studying for Evidence. In the mean time, buy, buy, buy and wear, wear, wear.

UPDATE:
The idea for these t-shirts comes from the lovely, talented, and supremely intelligent Nidhi, who also makes some awesome Indian chicken stuff.

That's Just Not Right (Stolen From Maggie)

Your Deadly Sins

Gluttony: 60%

Greed: 20%

Lust: 20%

Pride: 20%

Sloth: 20%

Envy: 0%

Wrath: 0%

Chance You'll Go to Hell: 20%

You'll die from a diabetic coma.

How Sinful Are You?

The 138th "Here is No Why" Blog Post Special!

Yes, it's hard to believe that "Here is No Why," the pointless ramblings of a University of Wisconsin law student, started just One Hundred and Thirty Eight posts ago. Through the weeks and months of this blog's existence, we've come to know lots about the life and times of that blogger known as Andy. What better opportunity than now to take a look back at where it all started, and speculate about where Here is No Why might go.

It was New Year's Day, 2006. Andy had had a great night at Maureen and Trevor's place, ringing in the new year with some of his closest friends. At 3:19 pm, shortly after waking up, Andy decided to bite the bullet and start, finally, his own blog. Let's take a look at that first post, titled, simply, A New Year, a New Blog:

Everyone should listen to "A Long December" by the Counting Crows. I'm going to go watch Harry Potter on IMAX now. When i get back, I'm going to try to unravel the mysteries of "PopoZao" and also try to argue that polygamy should be legal.

And, just like that, it began. It's almost unbelievable, but those three short sentences encapsulated pretty much every theme that would later develop on this blog. Music has been a constant theme here, as we'll see. The same can be true for Andy's love of Harry Potter and his general dorkiness. In fact, "Dorks" would become Here is No Why's greatest hit to date, with 25 comments. And who can forget all the fun we've had with Popozao. But we're getting ahead of ourselves. For now, the blog had started, but was unremarkable.

After a post in which Andy reviewed Michael Crichton's horrible State of Fear and expressed dismay at the shittiness of Popozao, he posted his first piece of self-deprecating humor: Potentially Entirely Unhelpful Analogies, Part I. This post is also noteworthy because it is one of a very few Here is No Why posts that includes a period at the end of the title. Months later, Andy would maintain that while no one understood the analogy, it made perfect sense, goddamnit. Eventually, the Superman Returns teaser trailer was released, and Andy exposed himself for the dork he was.

As time passed, Andy would come to make yet another entirely unhelpful analogy:

What i said:Something to the effect of: "Look, it's not like people are sitting their with their hands up their asses fondling their own shit."

Surprisingly, no one understood what Andy meant, proving yet again that genuis is never appreciated in its own time.

Andy would soon blog about finishing his Law Revew paper, playing RISK, and radio stations on random. Then, the semester started, and Andy revealed his undying love for the band that has come to be universally regarded as the greatest musical force in human history: The Smashing Pumpkins.

But while the posts were funny, insightful, witty, and generally of excellent quality, something vital was missing: reader interaction. The comments section sat underused. Here is No Why was being read, but no one was writing back! This was an entirely unacceptable state of affairs, given that Andy had once said "I live for comments!" But the lack of comments would all change when the topic turned serious: Of Rhetoric and Abortion was Andy's first attempt to sound out his thoughts in writing on an open forum. And as a conversation starter, it was a success. Through 7 comments, Andy and Katherine, with some input from Chrystal, would discuss the heated issue at hand and, more importantly, put the comments feature to good use. Andy was satisfied: his blog was becoming a success.

But while one controversial topic lead to many comments, another such topic would lead to comparatively very few. This left Andy stunned, depressed, dejected. It's ok, though, because Andy would soon discover that he was a Mercedes.

South Park Andy is widely considered one of the best posts of the early weeks. And rightly so: it's depiction of the infamous blogger in South Park form is flawless.

Here is No Why's first month was rounded out by the incident that gave rise to the rumor that Andy is a sexist and something that would bring blogging too close to home, a startling incident in which Andy blogged about someone, only to be confronted by that person in real life. While Andy was stunned, he realized what it meant: people were reading.

Here is No Why pressed forward into February. February started unremarkably. But then tragedy struck. Buttercup is still extremely missed in the Here is No Why offices. Smash seems to be coping, and Andy is, too.

It would be some time before Andy felt up to the task of tackling a serious subject, but when he did, it was a very controversial topic: What's wrong with all of us. In the hard-hitting expose, the intrepid blogger discussed why the entire situation between men and women is fucked up. And, at 11 comments, it became the new most successful post.

February would continue to see Here is No Why focus on rants (a rant against detaining people in Guantanamo Bay, a rant against growing up, and a rant against the use of the phrase "F-bomb") and music (Weezer . . . , a review of all the Weezer albums, The Most Amazing Thing I've Ever Seen, featuring a version of While My Guitar Gently Weeps played on the ukelele, and a proposed mix CD for Spring Break). February was rounded out by a fire and the restoration of hope to Andy after a 911 call made sure a baby was ok.

March, the third month of Here is No Why, started out with a bang:

Katherine decides we're going to drive around, which i agree to do because i've got nothing better to do and i enjoy the company. Sometime later, she gets the idea to drive to Door County, to which i am steadfastly opposed. I say "I'm putting my foot down. We are absolutely, positively, not going to Door County tonight!"

Flash forward about half an hour. Katherine has worn me down and enticed me with the promise of Swedish pancakes. Having no responsibilities on Wednesday, and loving the idea of an impromptu road trip, i am in my apartment getting pajamas, my iPod, my camera, and my phone's charger. At 3:11, we embark . . .

That's right, Andy went to Door County. At 3am. Chalk that one up to the impulsiveness of youth. But who can explain Katherine's motives? Yet another of Here is No Why's intractable mysteries.

But while the Door Country trip was fun, the highlight of March, in terms of Here is No Why, life, and road trips, was undoubtedly Spring Break. The spring break series was one of Here is No Why's most innovative and successful experiments. Let's recap just one of the most amazing passages, from Spring Break: Day Five:

The problem, however, was that the Russians were probably douchebags, but i chalked that up to their being foreigners and gave them the benefit of the doubt. More damning for them was the fact that they wore man-thongs. No one in the civilized world, or the uncivilized world, for that matter, should be allowed to wear a man-thong. I think it's actually punishible by death in some African countries. Man-thongs are, without a doubt, the worst of the various male swimwear options. I don't even think girls like man-thongs.

Man-thongs, dude.

Andy then announced his ill-fated candidacy for Editor-in-Chief, and his slightly less ill-fated candidacy for Senior Managing Editor, destroyed one of Zachar's heroes, ranted about the word Fuck again and about the "war on Christianity." The second Fuck rant is noteable because a certain passage would be perverted and use against our blogger hero in a certain publication. The original passage read:

No word is offensive without context. For example, i sometimes use the word "spic" in conversation, not in a derrogatory sense but in order to illustrate a point or for some other not-offensive reason. Let's pretend i say this: "One of the racial slurs for Mexicans is 'spic,' but i've never been called that." There's no way that my use of the word is offensive. Of course, given a different context it's completely different.So, what could possibly be offensive about referring to "my fucking car"? I honestly don't know.

The parody passage was something like:

Nothing is offensive without context. For example, i sometimes use the word "spic," as in "suck my spic." There's no way that's offensive.

The message was clear: to be parodied, someone must have been reading. March ended with less of a bang than a blown interview, but Here is No Why continued unabated.

And that brings us to April. Andy didn't win the EIC election, but he wasn't too disappointed. And the Martinez, Zachar, Ruby and McNamara skit went well at the Law Revue show. Responsibility took its toll on Andy, but he pressed forth and ranted about fakeness and dishonesty. And who can forget the orgasmic rant against drum circles? But, by far, the high-water mark for April, and indeed for all of Here is No Why thus far was Dorks.

A simple series of questions, written in the Law Review office in the late evening/early morning, Dorks inspired no less than 25 comments, a discussion of the merits of the various Star Trek series, and admissions by several people that they are, in fact, dorks.

And that brins us to May. The most notable thing that's happened thus far in May is that Andy got a job. Also interesting, of course, is that Rachel Bachhuber is second only to douchebags as the number 1 problem facing the world. And, of course, the 138th "Here is No Why" Blog Post Special.

So where is Here is No Why going from here? Onwards and upwards. Perhaps more nifty HTML will be added. And there's a rumor about Here is No Why merchandise. Will you be wearing a Here is No Why tank-top this summer? Wait and see.

In the mean time, keep checking back. Here is No Why is more than just the ramblings of Andy Martinez. Andy is just one of us, one of the people that makes up America. And, because of this, Here is No Why is really a window into the psyche of America and the world.

Yes, it started humbly and now has turned into a world-wide phenomenon, with visitors from as far away as Plano, Texas and Sun Prairie, Wisconsin. But don't be intimidated: Andy's still the same down-to-earth guy he's always been. And don't forget: he lives for comments.

FUCK YEAH!

You Belong in the USA

Sweet! People either love you or hate you And you really don't care what anyone thinks Big and bold, you do things your way

What English Speaking Country Do You Belong In?

"Look, Up In the Sky!"

That's right, folks. Finally, the Superman Returns trailer is here. Check it out, it's fucking awesome.

Things to look for:

1. Kevin Spacey, awesome as Lex Luthor. I have to admit that I had my doubts, especially when I heard that Kevin was modeling his Luthor after Gene Hackman from the Christopher Reeve movies. Hackman, while generally awesome, sucked balls as Luthor. He was too campy. Spacey, though, seems to have taken Hackman's Luthor and turned it up a few notches, making him crazy and diabolic. Sweet.
2. Kate Bosworth as Lois Lane. I have to say that this is leaving me a little bit iffy right now. I think she'll still be better than Margot Kidder, though.
3. The flying. I think that this trailer, on a computer screen, probably doesn't do the flying justice. I will say, though, that some of the scenes (like the one where Superman is going after the plane) look awesome, but others (like where Superman lands in front of Luthor) look not so great. Hopefully, it'll be better on the big screen.
4. Brandon Routh as Clark Kent. Seems fine. Not as meek (so far) as the Christopher Reeve Clark, which I regard as a good thing. Clark Kent is Superman's secret identity, but that doesn't mean he has to be a giant pussy.
5. Brandon Rought as SUPERMAN. Excellent. Just fucking excellent. I think (gasp) he might be better that Christopher Reeve. I mean, check this out:
6. My favorite part so far, the part that actually gave me goosebumps: the classic John Williams Superman Theme. A Superman movie would not have been complete without it, I'm glad it's there.

"That Was the Lamest Joke I've Ever Been Involved In"

That's how a friend of mine described our Professional Responsibilities exam. While I fully agree that law students should learn how to be professionally responsible, the PR exam was a complete waste of time. Moreover, it was so easy, I have no idea how the teacher's going to work it out with the curve.

The last question may as well have been: "Describe your current emotional state. How do you feel about that?" The actual question, though not quite that stupid, was pretty lame and had nothing to do with what we learned in class, unless the point of the class was to teach us how to talk about our feelings.

Whatever, it was for a letter grade and, therefore, doesn't affect my GPA. Still, I resent the fact that I had to get up at 7:15 for this stupid test.

I Rock!

K, so, I was eating by myself when I hear the guitar solo from "Cherub Rock," which, on my phone, means I'm getting a phone call from someone I haven't assigned a specialized ring to. Anyway, I pull my phone out of my pocket and look at the number: it was a Madison number I didn't recognize. So, I answer it, and, to my surprise, it's the law firm I interviewed with yesterday. My initial thought was "well, it's kinda nice of them to let me know I didn't get it so that I wouldn't sweat it out."

But, surprisingly, they offered me a job. Which I took. Sweet.

So, now I have a job at a small but highly respected law firm on the square. That's so cool. I'm pretty excited!

Insert Shitty U2 Song Here

It's a Beautiful Day! Don't let it get away!

God, that song sucks. Admittedly, not as much as Girl Named Sandoz by the Smashing Pumpkins, but bad nonetheless.

In any event, yes, it is a beautiful day outside. And I shall spend it inside the "lawbrary." That's ok, though, I guess. It'll all be over soon and it'll be worth it when I have a sweet job. Unless, ofcourse, I am unhirable, in which case this sucks.

Just Another Day

Blah. Let's recap what i did today.

Katherine called at about noon to let me know that she had finished her final and that i should, therefore, get ready to meet her and Jody for lunch. So, i got my ass out of bed and drove down. I picked up Katherine and Jody and Blake and we went to Pasqual's. I got a burrito, cowboy style. It was decent. I was mostly intrigued by the chips and salsa, though, and would have been perfectly happy eating just that. Whatever, i need the calories.

After lunch, i drove everyone back towards campus and dropped Jody and Blake off. Katherine stayed with me so that she could show me the law firm where she works and where i was about to have a job interview. She showed me where it was and told me where to park and then i dropped her off.

Now i was in a rush: in about an hour and half, i had to pick up my dry cleaning (which was hopefully ready by the promised time), take a shower, shave, get all suited up, print out writing samples, get to the law firm and kick that interview's ass.

So, i went to the dry clearner's and, sure enough, it didn't look like they had done my fucking suit by noon like they promised. After a little period of freaking out on my part (my only other suit is completely unwearable at the moment), they found my suit and, thank god, it was clean. So i drove home, showered, shaved, changed, looked awesome, and left.

Got to the firm at pretty much exactly 3 o'clock, which is when my interview was scheduled. Waited a few minutes and then the two partners came out, introduced themselves, and lead me into the interview room. We joked around about Flagstaff, law school, Katherine... lots of things. The interview, i thought, went really well, at least in terms of us getting along. There was a problem, though: although i forget exactly how this came about, they discovered that i would probably be unable to work there during the school year. That probably counts against me, which sucks, but oh well, i had to be honest.

So, i left the interview, came back home, changed into normal clothes, called and told Katherine about the interview and then went to school for a day of studying Professional Responsibilities. I was less than stellar in my productivity, partly due to the fact that i have no idea how to study for that class and party because i was paralyzed by the fear that i'm going to fail everything.

Whatever, i'm sure i won't.

Tomorrow, i've gotta hit PR a little more, then switch over to Evidence. All indications are that the test is a beast, and i'm not looking forward to it. So i've gotta have the most awesome outline i can put together before i go into that thing.

I'll post something more entertaining later.