I got sworn in as a lawyer last week. It was a nice ceremony at the Salt Palace in Salt Lake. Christine Durham, Chief Justice of the Utah Supreme Court, said a few words. We all raised our hands and swore to uphold the Utah and the United States Constitution.
It's a pretty cool thing to be a lawyer. I hear quite a few lawyer jokes, but Chief Justice Durham of the Utah Supreme Court said that when a doctor tells her a lawyer joke she makes this response: "While YOUR predecessors [doctors] were still treating people with cobwebs and leeches, MY predecessors [lawyers] were writing the Declaration of Independence." Good point.
One of the great examples, to me, of a revolutionary lawyer fighting for the rule of law is John Adams. John Adams defended the soldiers accused of killing colonists in the Boston Massacre because no one else would do it. Adams later wrote of his defense "It was . . . one of the most gallant, generous, manly and disinterested Actions of my whole Life, and one of the best Pieces of Service I ever rendered my Country." He believed that sentencing the soldiers to death without a fair trial would have been "as foul a Stain upon this Country as the Executions of the Quakers or Witches, anciently."
The crisis in Pakistan this week makes me particularly proud to be a lawyer. Pakistani President Pervez Musharraf suspended the Pakistani Constitution on Saturday and fired the Chief Justice of the country's Supreme Court. He also fired any judge who refused to take a new oath. Pakistani lawyers have been a major part of the protests against Musharref's latest actions and many have been clubbed or arrested while protesting.
I hope that I can be a little bit like the Pakistani lawyers protesting this week and the lawyers who helped found the United States. To me being a lawyer means helping people to understand the law and, occasionally, standing up for the rule of law when it is under attack.
Remember when video games used to be fun? When I was seven years old, my piano teacher had a Nintendo at her house that we were allowed to play while we were waiting for our mothers to pick us up. That was my first experience with video games. All week I would look forward to playing Super Mario Bros. I had dreams about little Luigi bopping mushrooms on the head in the sewers.
Seventeen years later, I admit that I still play video games – but they’ve started to feel more like work than fun. I am a huge college football fan and EA Sports’ NCAA Football series is one of the greatest things that has ever happened to me. Who can resist playing football sports as Reggie Bush or creating a super version of yourself to destroy college defenses on your way to the Heisman Trophy? It is particularly appealing for me because I am so uncoordinated and slow in real life.
But these games have huge learning curves. If you don’t know what bump-and-run coverage is, you probably don’t want to play NCAA Football. It’s going to take you hours of practice to play Halo 3 with your friends. That’s why I’m so enthralled by the Nintendo Wii. Last night, my wife and I had dinner with a married couple. After watching the Office (classic) we busted out the Wii and we played the Wii Sports bowling game, tennis, and boxing. My wife developed a strategy of constantly punching in the boxing game that was basically unstoppable. Even when I tried to replicate it she beat me soundly.
The Wii is a good, old-fashioned arcade game machine. I’m sure it has difficult games that take hours to master, but we picked it up for the first time last night and got super sweaty trying to beat each other over the head in the boxing game. Seventeen years after my first video game experience, Nintendo has come through again.
The religious belief of the candidates running for president has become one of the most important issues in this year's campaign. From Mitt's Mormonism to Giuliani's Catholicism and Hillary's prayers to Obama's many paths to the same place, each of the major candidates has had to decide how to present their faith to the public.
Some have decried this public discussion as irrational and applauded Mayor Giuliani for refusing to answer questions about his Catholicism because he considers it to be his personal affair. Last week, Mr. Giuliani said "My religious affiliation, my religious practices and the degree to which I am a good or not so good Catholic, I prefer to leave to the priests. That would be a much better way to discuss it. That's a personal discussion and they have a much better sense of how good a Catholic I am or how bad a Catholic I am."
Richard Cohen, of the Washington Post, is cheered by Giuliani's refusal to discuss his religion and compares it to Kennedy's famous declaration that he was not the Catholic presidential candidate but the Democratic presidential candidate who happened to be Catholic.
Richard Cohen, however, is wrong. It is true that we should not have a religious test for political office in our country. As long as a candidate's personal beliefs are moral they should not be disqualified for office. However, religion is extremely powerful in informing the worldview and guiding the actions of many religious people.
The president of the United States is the Commander-in-Chief and the head of our state, not a robotic policy-maker. We need a leader who has the character to respond to emergencies like September 11th with courage and clear vision.
Religion is relevant to choosing among candidates for public office for two reasons:
First, religious belief often dictates a candidate's policy positions. The most obvious example is abortion. If your religion leads you to believe that life begins at conception then it is very likely that you will advocate a complete prohibition of abortion as murder. Scientists cannot tell us when life begins, so it is left to our consciences and personal beliefs to decide this critical conceptual question.
Second, a person's religious life can provide insight into that person's character. If a politician has not kept sacred promises made as part of his or her religion, how likely is it that that same politician will keep campaign promises made to the American public?
Religious questions can be bigoted and insensitive. But understanding a candidate's religious beliefs is crucial to understanding the policies that candidate will advocate and the type of leader the candidate will be.
Is there anything more wonderful than watching four confused, talentless people judge rodeo roping, beat boxing, magic, and singing acts? If there is, I haven't thought of it yet. I was forced to watch this NBC masterpiece every Tuesday and for weeks I was tortured. Then I realized what a good thing I had going, and it became my guilty pleasure.
If you're unfamiliar with the format of the show, let me bring you up to speed. Jerry Springer is the emcee. Right there, you've got the blueprint for a fantastic television program. I never caught Jerry's talkshow, but now I'm embarassed to have missed out on one of America's best entertainers. I'm not sure why I'm so drawn to him. It is indisputable that despite the show's title he has no talent whatsoever. Each night there are ten acts and he interviews each one after they've performed. Invariably, his question is some variation on, "So . . . what's going through your mind right now?" He doesn't even try to disguise the fact that he only has one question. His alternate questions range from, "So . . . what's going on in your heart right now?" to "So . . . how do you feel right now." This last week, one of the producers almost ruined the show by trying to get him to ask different questions, but, luckily, Jerry was so incoherent asking them, he went back to, "You're here, in front of all these people, and the judges say what they just said. So . . . how does that make you feel." Phew. Dude, if it ain't broke, don't fix it.
Next, we turn to judges Sharon Osbourne and Piers Morgan. Sharon appears to have gotten fed up with her braindead rock star husband and decided to sexually harass young men on national television. Every contestant under 50 who does not have a marked beer belly gets a suggestive comment from Sharon that is something like, "You can do magic for me anytime." Classic. Does anything say family television programming like old women asking to squeeze contestants' "tushies?" The answer is no.
According to America's website, Piers used to be the editor of the London Daily Mirror. Which is a good thing, because there are loads of journalistic acts on the show and what would we do without a former newspaper editor to judge them? Piers' niche on the show is disliking EVERYTHING. Each of the "judges" on the show has a buzzer that they can use to show their disapproval for an act during the performance. In past episodes, Piers has used his buzzer and explained, "I wanted to see how you would react." Piers also feels a dreadful amount of responsibility for giving away $1 million dollars through the show and takes it upon himself to screen out the unworthy.
"The show can't be too bad," you're thinking about now. "I might even tune in to see what it's all about." Stop thinking that right now. You might tune in? That's not good enough. You have to watch this show because I haven't even gotten to the best part of the show: The Hoff.
David Hasslehoff likes to be referred to as "The Hoff" these days. He is the third judge on America's, but he is the show's true genius. You might be wondering, "Didn't David - I mean, The Hoff - have a show about a robotic car in the 80's and didn't he peak on a 90's show about lifeguards running around a beach?" True. But did you also know that The Hoff is one of the BIGGEST music stars in Germany? With credentials like that, you've got to give it to him. He is qualified to judge the talent of would-be American stars. Sadly, The Hoff can't be bothered to pay attention to the acts' performances. His commentary on each act is always something generic that could have been applied to any act that has ever performed since the dawn of entertainment. For example, he frequently says something to the effect of "You said you were going to step it up, and YOU DID. That was AWESOME. You are what this show is all about." Thanks The Hoff. When he bothers to say something that is specific to the person performing, it comes out even more mangled. During the last episode a dude who earned a living by playing the guitar and singing on a cruise ship performed a country song. The Hoff's commentary was, "You . . . work on a cruise ship. And you just sang." Thanks The Hoff. We were a little confused about that, but we appreciate that clarification. The Hoff is at least a 23 on the unintentional comedy scale. Truly epic.
And that is why you HAVE to watch America's Got Talent. The Hoff, Jerry, Sharon, and Piers are like the fantastic four of family entertainment. They are the perfect team because their entertainment powers are perfectly complimentary. Piers has super sarcasm. Sharon has super sexual frustration. Jerry is exceptionally confused. And The Hoff, well, he's The Hoff.
Sadly, words can only convey a small part of this cultural masterpiece. You have to watch it to truly appreciate it. So tune in, Tuesdays 8/7 central on NBC.
Half a year before the first caucus or primary, the presidential race seems like a football game. Sure, it’s fun to check the average poll numbers on Real Clear Politics’ homepage. “Oooh. Guiliani’s lead is down to 6.7%. But Romney is leading in Iowa and New Hampshire.” Exciting stuff. Following the race makes the summer go by more quickly when there’s no basketball or football on T.V. I even enjoyed the CNN Democratic YouTube debate immensely. Did you ever think you would see serious presidential contenders responding to a question on global warming from a snowman?
But even YouTube did little to force the candidates to articulate their policy positions in concrete terms. Obama is for change. Clinton is experienced. Fascinating. I was actually impressed by the speaking skills of both leading Democratic presidential candidates. But don’t you need more than a slick podium persona to be elected the chief executive of the United States of America? Why don’t we demand more than bumper sticker policy statements from people who want to be our leaders?
Sadly, you have to go to the second tier of candidates and beyond to get clear policy statements supported by any semblance of conviction. So far, the most exciting second-tier GOP candidate has been Ron Paul. With “arguably the most loyal Internet following of all of the 2008 candidates,” Paul seems to have sparked the imaginations of at least some of those already following the presidential debate. Paul advocates a very limited government. He feels so strongly about that position that neither he nor any of his children have accepted federally subsidized loans for their college educations. Paul has never voted for a pay increase for Congress, and refuses to participate in the Congressional pension plan (to the dismay of his wife) because he thinks it is too advantageous and too much of a burden for tax payers. Ron Paul has a very poor chance of getting the Republican nomination, but at least he doesn’t seem to be treating the campaign like a football game.
As part of my bar exam coverage, I present YouTube videos that deal with the bar exam:
This one is called, "People Who Failed." It gives me some hope that if I failed I might not become instantly homeless and unemployable. Can you believe that guy who took it 41 times?
Here, a young woman is apparently overcome by the hours she has spent studying and sings, "It Seems Like A Mighty Long Time" to her review books.
This video might only be funny to people who have listened or gone to a bar review lecture. It is pretty classic, though.
As I try to sort out my feelings in the aftermath of the bar exam, I am pleased to have a glimpse into similar struggles endured by perfect strangers on the internet. Here is what a few of them said:
In an expression of perfect anti-climax that most nearly expresses what I feel, one poster writes, "I don't feel any sense of relief that the bar exam is over; more a creeping dread of what October, and the published results, will bring." I couldn't agree more. I kept thinking to myself, "I just have to get to July 24th, and then I won't ever have to open my bar books again. Won't that be great." It's not that great. In fact, I'm kind of cranky. Also, I'm avoiding telling anyone when to expect the results so I won't have to tell too many people that I'm a failure if I didn't pass.
A professor whose memories of the bar seem to have gotten rosier with the years writes, "I remember thinking as I walked out — 'I may not have to take another test ever again. Unless they make me take a driver’s test again when I’m 70.' Strangely, it did not occur to me that had I failed this would not be true, even though I had no strong sense of how well or badly I had done, other than I had felt prepared for the questions." I'm sure that professor actually left the exam room, went straight to the bathroom and threw up on his shoes because he was sure that he had failed. Forty years later, all he can remember is that he thought, "I'll never have to take another test again." Don't believe it.
This blogger's observation is more typical. "I felt like I had been through some sort of disaster. Part of me wanted to go home, crawl under my covers and just cry. The other part wanted to be around people in order to share our collective grief. Fortunately, I am great multi-tasker and managed to do both at the same time!"
My final blog quote comes from a very zen website that has the scary ability to put the funk that I felt after the exam into words. "The Bar Exam is no monster that thrives on corpses of failed students. It's no mirror reflecting your worst fears back on you. It's there, and it's not. It's you. Only you. You give it meaning. You make it the monster. You turn it into the mirror."
At this point, all I can think is, "So, now what?" The answer is, "You have to wait 2-3 months in agony to see if you passed the biggest test of your life." Of course, if I failed I'm fired. So that is a comforting thought for the next few months. Check back with me in October.
It's a pretty cool thing to be a lawyer. I hear quite a few lawyer jokes, but Chief Justice Durham of the Utah Supreme Court said that when a doctor tells her a lawyer joke she makes this response: "While YOUR predecessors [doctors] were still treating people with cobwebs and leeches, MY predecessors [lawyers] were writing the Declaration of Independence." Good point.
One of the great examples, to me, of a revolutionary lawyer fighting for the rule of law is John Adams. John Adams defended the soldiers accused of killing colonists in the Boston Massacre because no one else would do it. Adams later wrote of his defense "It was . . . one of the most gallant, generous, manly and disinterested Actions of my whole Life, and one of the best Pieces of Service I ever rendered my Country." He believed that sentencing the soldiers to death without a fair trial would have been "as foul a Stain upon this Country as the Executions of the Quakers or Witches, anciently."
The crisis in Pakistan this week makes me particularly proud to be a lawyer. Pakistani President Pervez Musharraf suspended the Pakistani Constitution on Saturday and fired the Chief Justice of the country's Supreme Court. He also fired any judge who refused to take a new oath. Pakistani lawyers have been a major part of the protests against Musharref's latest actions and many have been clubbed or arrested while protesting.
