Hey Economy, Fuck You.

It was a class like most other upper-level classes. The professor, who is an adjunct professor, spent the majority of his time bitching about what actually happens in practice and not about the actual subject matter of the class. Now most of you that are in law school upper-lever classes know all about this (unless you're in some pretentious Ivy League school where your professors never practiced a day in their lives), and you'll also typically know that your adjunct professors have much more actual knowledge to convey than any information contained in your core classes. The wisdom provided in this particular lecture was somewhat humbling. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said to start the class, "welcome to the worst hiring market in my 25 years."

That was 12 months ago.

Needless to say any recent graduate knows how much it sucks to be looking for a job right now. I don't care if you have a law degree, an engineering degree, or if you failed out of the M.R.S. program, shit sucks. What makes it even worse, is that we don't even know how bad shit is. You see, recent graduates seeking gainful employment are not calculated in typical unemployment statistics. However, unemployment for 16-24-year-olds is 52.2%. Again, that doesn't count recent graduates.

I, like so many others, have aggressively sought employment. I even went to Career Services, for what that's worth. It took the guy an hour to basically tell me to open the Yellow Pages, start with "A" and work from there, but to make sure I had a glass of water for all the envelopes I'd be licking, and asses I'd be kissing. Within the past year I have sent out at least 50 resumes to all firms, big and small, throughout my city. In addition to those resumes, I also called numerous law firms asking if they were hiring. Not only did none of them even hint at an open position, one receptionist even laughed at the concept. For all she knew, I could've been a fifth-year associate, but that didn't stop her from cackling and promptly hanging up. I even sent a few resumes to a distant tropical paradise to see if they needed legal help. Apparently not. At least I got a couple interviews, right? One place I interviewed with even had the balls to call me up, convince me to show for a 9 AM interview, and then tell me, after 15 minutes, that they weren't actually hiring, but were new to the region and just wanted to get their names out there. That's the career equivalent of going on a date, ordering food, then promptly hearing about your date's herpes problem. Nothing is going to come of it, but you've already gotten all pretty and now you're still stuck there for the duration.

What makes this problem even worse, is that several big firms in this area have retained their 1L On-Campus-Interview schedules. Yes, 1L OCI is not that common, but here it is. In fact, here, it is very big. That's why the big firms have chosen to keep their appointments. You see, if they didn't show up, it would look bad. It doesn't matter that they will be taking record low numbers of summer associates, and the interview schedules are going to end up being a formality for basically everyone. However, this will inevitably have the effect of inflating the average 1L's already-gargantuan ego. Like an Ole' Miss fan when they are ranked in the top 10, these people become insufferable. Not only is this a cruel tease, but we, the upperclassmen, are left to clean up the inevitable emotional fallout. This would be okay if these were college coeds who had just been rejected from their favorite sorority, but we're dealing with law students here, and there's no hiding the fact that these are not the most attractive people of the world...

But it hasn't stopped there, even those in the graduating class are still unemployed. In fact, several of them have had to resort to opening their own temporary law firms just to make ends meet until the crushing blow of Sally Mae's interest rates come rattling down in about four month's time. The legal market has dried up so significantly that several have resorted to the old jobs they had after college, thus making their $100k+ JD's about as useful as a Shakira concert at a school for the Not Deaf, But Blind. This means that, not only do we law students have to compete against others in our class for the bread crumbs that are still out there, but we have to do this against people that should've gotten a job last year, but now have a year of fear and rock-bottom standards to match.

Nope, the reality is finally setting in. The only jobs are with the government. Literally. The only employer that has even attempted to register for upper-class OCI is the United States taxpayer. Listen, as much as it might sound like it, I am not above doing menial tasks. As much as I act better than the rest of you, when it comes to a paycheck, I'll dig ditches, build walls, serve fast food, hell, I'll even put my JD to good work by helping some criminals launder some money. My other interview was even with a nice fella named Bernie. But then the government decided to throw Mr. Madoff in jail, so I guess that's a wash. Alright, Uncle Sam, I get the hint. If you're the only bastard hiring, I guess I can help the IRS on some of those collections irregularities.

Fuck this economy. I wish I could afford beer.

The Definitive Female Age Break-Down

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1L's: Pull your head out of your collective ass

Every year, it seems some 1L does something indescribably stupid. While other discontented law students and I have discussed this on several occasions, we've yet to be able to discover why some people feel the need to enter new environments, and based on no information whatsoever, demand to be treated with any modicum of respect.

Like most graduate programs, law school is professional school. While in undergrad, most of us studied a range of topics, and most of those were in the arbitrary and theoretical areas. Our real experience came the summers, when we worked, if we worked. Law school is different in some ways: yes you will still be learning arbitrary and theoretical crap, but it's tailored arbitrary and theoretical crap. The most important thing that is tailored is your fellow classmates, who will go on to be your future colleagues.

This is a fact that many 1L's fail to comprehend: these are people that you have to work with. It doesn't matter how awesome your memo was, how thorough your research, how pithy your opinions, at the end of the day you're going to have to be able to see these people on a fairly regular basis, and if they think you're a douchebag, your life just became hell.

I mention all this to get to this point: you don't shit where you eat. Especially if you're not entirely sure where your dinner table is. It seems some 1L's have an uncanny ability to piss off a majority of their peers quicker than Kanye at an awards ceremony. It happens every year. My first year, the infamous e-mail incident gave our law school a certainly unimpressive regional reputation. Thank you 1L. Last year, an individual felt the need to blatantly break SBA election laws, so he decided to run as a write-in candidate. He had to annoy the hell out of dozens of upperclassmen over nit-picky bullshit just so that he could get a blank space on the ballot. I have more fingers than he had votes. Thank you 1L. And if you thought these were isolated incidents, think again.

Consider the case of Dumb 1L for this year's class. This particular individual could not wait a month into law school before he pissed somebody off. For those uninitiated, laptops are the pancreas of law school. Everyone has one, everyone uses one, and while we're still not sure what good they are, they do provide some good comedy material. Everyone and their sister has used a laptop in class to entertain themselves through one of the many boring lectures we're subjected to. As such, several professors have have banned the use of laptops in class in order to facilitate discussion. Considering how many people use their laptop to hide behind during class discussion, myself included, I can understand where some professors would be peeved. The individual mentioned above decided to wage a one-man war against those professors' laptop policy. He made such a fuss over it, that the administration had to convene a student/faculty panel in order to discuss the issue in great detail. (I was selected to sit on this panel, and I'm sure everyone involved regrets it to this day. I'm okay with that.)

Even though the panel did not affect any existing policies or encourage any policies in the future, one way or the other, Dumb 1L wasn't done yet... He figured that he would run for elected office in law school. He would run for an SBA position, where "real" change is made. Even though this individual goes to law school, presumably graduated from college, and is assumed to have at least one eyeball located outside his asshole, he seemed perfectly unaware that there might be rules regarding elections. One is also left to assume that he was an undergrad philosophy major, because he also thought that the election would be about the issues, and not a popularity contest.

Dumb 1L then proceeded to break several of the election code rules, insisted on toeing several others, and was asked to account for his campaign. He ignored all warnings and requests. Failing to take responsibility (i.e. pulling his head out of his ass), Dumb 1L was dealt an insurmountable penalty, dooming him to inevitable failure in the general election.

To make matters worse, Dumb 1L proceeded to follow in the tradition of Enron-great Ken Lay, and took the position that "it's not my fault for breaking the law, it's their fault for enforcing it." Oh, and he did it on his blog, so that it could be recorded and then used so that I can ridicule him. That blog can be found here: http://www.noelbagwell.com/

Let this be a lesson to you, all you budding want-to-be-lawyers: whenever you enter a situation where you're unsure how people feel, what has preceded in the past, or where momentum is going, don't assume that the system is wrong and that you are right. (I'll give you a hint, starting out, you're wrong 95% of the time, and that's not a generalization, it's a rule you should live by). That's Rule #1, as for Rule #2, do your research. That should sound redundant to a student of the law, but you would be amazed at how few people actually take the time to find out whether or not they are wrong. If you followed Rule #1, your task should be determining how you are wrong, and then you should proceed in humble stoicism. And lastly, but most importantly, is Rule #3: after ignoring Rules #1 & #2, do not proceed to piss off the people that have been around longer than you are because you were too dumb to keep your mouth closed.

Yes, I know I'm preaching humility here, and that's as rare as a Law Review orgy, which is why you should pay attention even more. There will always be somebody older, somebody better, somebody smarter, somebody better looking, somebody richer, somebody more eloquent, and somebody more pissed off (that's me) than you are. If you jump into the situation thinking you know better than everybody else, not only are you going to be wrong, but you will just prove to everyone else that you're as dumb as they thought you were in the first place. Mark Twain was a smart dude, and he had a pretty good saying: "It is better to be thought a fool, than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt."

On that note, I'm shutting my mouth.

For now...

Pulling a Cumberland Goes International

The Japanese have embraced the "Cumberland" philosophy:

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/video/watch/80696308/

Oh yeah, don't watch that if you have epilepsy...

Trial Competitions

Law schoolers are separated into generally two categories. The first group is categorized as your accountant-style future lawyers. These guys LOVE the law, and have no problem pouring hours of work over seemingly irrelevant footnotes, all in the comfort of their window-less cubicle/basement, eyes tied to the endless stream of Westlaw headnotes. Saying you hate these lawyers is kinda like saying you hate tree moss: they're always gonna be around, and while they may not be fun to touch, it's a lot more work to get rid of them than it's worth. In law school, these guys excel on the curve, making them the most hated quiet people around.

The other group is characterized by a general uninterest, and sometimes outright disregard, for the law. This group uses the law when it suits them, but have a litany of constitutional objections to whatever law may oppose them. They are far more interested in which intellectual fight they can pick at any given time, and typically are more opinionated than Bible-beaters on Bourbon Street. These lawyers are everyone's favorite trial lawyers, leaders in litigation, kings of the courtroom, and generally masters in their own mind's eye. And in law school, they do trial competitions.

For the uninitiated, trial competitions are to practicing litigation as Keanu Reeve's Ted is to his Neo. (Competition : Practicing :: Ted : Neo, for you SAT-buffs). The first is much younger, less polished, and generally requires more acting and a lower intellectual appeal. Regardless, law students will spend hours working through the minute details of their case, analysizing foundations of hearsay law, for the sole purpose of getting in a Valentine's Day card. Oh, and did I mention you're judged on that by someone that has the same credit-hours as you?

Every once in a while, a team will show up that appreciates the obvious paradox that is trying a fictional case in front of a fictional court in a fictional jurisdiction (to the team that used the Big Lebowski back-story and mentioned "pederasts" in an objection response, touche....), but most of the time, its people that take things way too seriously, get way too worked up, and then get way too angry when someone that knows just about as much tells them they're doing it wrong.

So, what does this mean to you, the impartial, skeptical, and slightly asshole observer?

Epicness

I have already mentioned the grade-school BS that comes around law school. Now take that, mix with a healthy dose of ego and a disdain for professional courtesy, throw it into an intellectual UFC octagon, and leave a practicing lawyer as the bench judge, there to witness the pure carnage that is post-carnal-knowledge courtroom war. That, my friends, is where friendships, careers, and self-respect is lost.

I like to wrap myself up in those moments and rock myself to sleep at night, basking in the warm of others' shame-spirals. Good night, and good luck.

The Panic

Anyone who has attended law school for more than a couple of months is familiar with The Panic. It sets in about 8 weeks into the semester, and you can tell its obvious affects in the furrowed brows and colossal bar tabs of your fellow students. Simply put, The Panic is the law student's instinctual response to the impending doom of the finals season. Finals in law school are inherently competitive, as in there are only so many A's, etc. that each professor is even ALLOWED to give to their students (unless you go to one of those snooty schools like Harvard that are simply too good for letter grades). Which means that law students know that they must not only know everything necessary to pass the class, but they must also know just enough more than the person next to them. As the saying goes, in the zombie apocalypse, you don't have to be the fastest runner, you just have to run faster than the other guy.

The problem is that grades in law school are everything. Any law firm worth their salt is never going to look past your 1.5 GPA, regardless of how many boards of humanitarian groups you may chair. Experience means almost nothing. Grades are everything. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I rather enjoy my view from atop the law school bell curve, because it's worth it for my blood pressure and general sanity to not delve into the 9 circles of manic-depressive hell that so many students descend. But, as scary as The Panic may be, hilarity does ensue.

Every law student has a story about their experience with The Panic. Either personally, or through a friend, The Panic beats out any common cold in terms of law school pandemics. Everyone knows that guy that hordes his ADD meds throughout the entire term, then cokes out on a triple-dose for the last month, sleeping 4 hours a night and generally being the worlds most annoying conversationalist while he rubs his gums and itches his neck. Others know of that one girl that had a nervous breakdown in the middle of the library, sprawled out her books and gave into the tears. Still others hear horror stories of that guy that walked around the stacks with an industrial magnet, wiping clean the hard-drives of unsuspecting students. The stories go on and on, but there's always one common denominator: stress. A whole lot is heaped on a lot of people that have absolutely no clue how to handle it, and the results are spectacular.

Surviving The Panic requires one of two approaches. First, one may separate themself from the area directly affected by The Panic, thus preventing infection. People who chose this method typically avoid much of the fallout. This is my preferred method. It lowers your chances of infection, but the lack of life-threatening motivation can damage one's grade point average. However, simply removing yourself from the location won't solve the trick, as many can contract The Panic through independent means, but it just takes longer to find your body if you're in your own apartment. A second method, one adopted by most students, is distraction. Whether it be all-night benders, property destruction or meaningless, stress-relieving sex, distractions can take on many forms to remove one's psyche from the law school equation. While those that pursue this method are most likely to suffer from long-term side effects (and no, that's not just a rash), they are typically the most fun to observe. These are the primary methods used to combat The Panic in modern day law school.

But then again, of course, there's always another option: Get up to get down with the sickness, and embrace the madness...

La-Rama

Everyone has experienced it. For some, it's been the cause of more lost sleep than even finals season. You know it, you've lived it, and you're a survivor. No, it's not herpes, it's a law drama.

Affectionately known as "la-rama," law drama permeates every aspect of school. If you thought hundreds of well-educated, adult students could congregate and socialize in a suitable manner, you're not wrong, you're just an idiot. From experience you know that these are not new issues. You became well-versed in all of them at a very early age, namely elementary school. But for some reason, several decades later, these budding lawyers in professional school have managed revert back to the same old stupid shit that we had to put up with on the playground inbetween learning our letters.

Maybe it's the exorbitant amount of booze. Maybe it's the sex. Maybe it's the stress. More likely, it's the deadly combination of all three. Nonetheless, there's just something about law school that manages to bring out the kid in everyone. Maturity wise, at least.

And what is even more disturbing, not to sound sexist, is it the ladies of law school are not just active participants, but are social linebackers in the football game that is law school society. I can honestly say I do not know a single lady in law school that does not hate, vehemently, at least one other girl in our class. For anyone trying to plan a party, check your guest list closely, because the inattentive eye could quickly be on the receiving end of a bitch slap, in the worst way possible.

And that's not to say that these little "disagreements" aren't based entirely on a rational formulations. Because they aren't. Ever. Sometimes it's as little as a potentially snide look that was perpetrated a year ago, but that's enough to create an escalated rhetorical arms race and a Cold War the likes of which you have never seen.

I still remember last year. A moment that will stick in my mind forever. I was out with a couple guys, and we went to a bar on a Tuesday. We wanted a pretty chill night, so we picked a bar that we knew wouldn't be that crowded. We found one, and with us, the bar's revenue that night doubled. After several beers and a few words, we got to talking about girls, as guys sometimes do. We might have said something about law school, or we might not have, regardless, a drunk ass  bastard wanders over to our table, slams his fists down, looks every single one of us deep in the eye, and with the sincerity one only gets during a heroic BAC, said one line that summed up so many stories: "Do not date law school girls." Without another word, that gentleman walked out of the bar, never to be seen again.

So the moral of the story is this: if you go to law school looking for love, be prepared for the most brutal dating scene since the caveman era. And be careful who you talk to at parties, guilt by association may not be legal cause of action, but since when did something like that matter to a lawyer. At least cavemen had the decency to mature a little. Regardless, there is never any hiding from "la-rama."

God Doesn't Want Me to Work for the Government

Okay, so some of you may be privy to this information, but likely most of you aren't. This is the ongoing story of my attempt to get a job with United States Attorney's office. Hilarity ensues.

In late December I met with a friend of mine who's a very successful lawyer in Birmingham. He promised to set me up with a great job with United States Attorney's office. Excited and naïve, I sent my resume in, and got accepted to the job. Little did I know that this would create a hellish string of events not worth any unpaid job.

In early March, I got a notice from the United States Attorney's office that I had a four-year-old delinquent debt of $55. Apparently my cable company in college had decided to defraud me half a c-note. Knowing that they had no reason to charge me for anything, I initiated a credit dispute. Little did I know, but credit disputes take approximately 2 months to complete. The government, however, wanted the issue resolved in 14 days.

So I set about the task of determining how to resolve the issue. Only then did I discover that my former cable company, Adelphia, was now bankrupt and no longer existed. After much research, I discovered that Adelphia had been bought out by Time-Warner cable, so I called them to resolve the issue. After waiting on hold, for two hours, with the cable company that I've never used, that bought out the company I used in 4 years, they told me that they would call me back to resolve the issue. I never heard back. So I called them back. Twice. On the third call I discovered that my region was not the one purchased by Time Warner cable, instead it was purchased by Comcast. Seven days have passed.

So I call Comcast. Not only do they have a record of the $55 charge, but they cannot tell me what in the hell the charge was for. It is at this point that I discover that the reason that Adelphia went bankrupt was because they committed massive fraud. Apparently they decided to charge a bunch of people a bunch of money that they didn't owe. But regardless of any fraud claims, I was still going to have to pay $55 for a service I never gained, for a bill I never received, for a collections dispute I was never informed of, and for a general ass raping that I was about to receive.

Swallowing my pride, I paid the $55.93 charge for the service I never received. The next day, I get an e-mail from the United States Attorney's office human resources manager telling me I need proof of payment. At this point, my 14 days have expired. However, my bill is supposed to be in the mail, providing proof that I've paid this charge. I was wrong.

After a week of waiting, and approximately 10 e-mails from the United States Attorney's office, my proof of payment has yet to arrive. So I call Comcast and tell them to either e-mail it or fax it to me. They don't. I call again. They don't. I call yet again. They don't. Four requests for a fax or an e-mail completely denied. And a supervisor is apparently too busy to talk to me. Apparently they have customer service issues a lot, and their super is backed up.

The lady of the United States Attorney's office human resources division is just as frustrated at me as I am that Comcast, so she tells me just send me a copy of my credit card statement, and that'll do the job. Finally! This is something I can handle, this is something that I can take care of. So I log onto the website of my credit card company, only to discover that there is no history that I've ever used my credit card, ever. Even though my four digit credit card debt has been wiped clean, I am pissed off because I can't provide the proof that I've paid a measly $55 to a company I stop dealing with a half decade ago.

So I call the credit card company. After waiting on hold, I discover that my credit card has been reported lost or stolen. Even though it's sitting in front of me. Apparently, the credit card company had determined that my credit card had been "compromised." Because of this, it was necessary to delete all of my records, even making it so that the customer service representative could not determine what my expenditures have been for the past week.

Fuck me.

So here I am, with a potentially nice, utterly unpaid job at the United States Attorney's office, but I'm being held back by $55 charge, that as of two months ago I had no idea existed. Fuck me...

GChat Etiquette

If you're in law school, you know gchat. Either you are addicted to it, or you are absolutely terrified that you will be. I can understand, it's just so simple to browse through your friends, check their statuses, "Oh, that's such a cute youtube video of a baby laughing," and whatnot. Even better are those links that don't need sound. What better way to get you through another exciting day of federal tax than this? But after a little time with the glory that is gchat, you may be breaking out your Emily Post wondering: what is proper g-etiquette? 

Short answer: There is none.

Gchat is a no-holds-barred, free-for-all, cliche-ridden schmorgesborg of beat-down. Hate Bush? Link to this. Hate Obama? Post this. Hate someone in your class? Go ahead, set your status to kill, and defame them for your enjoyment of your entire buddy list. Cooking dinner? Let everyone know. Packing for a trip? I bet everyone will be jealous. Taking a dump? Sure, why not? The g-status was twitter before twitter was cool. (Oh, and in case you were wondering: no, twitter is not, and never will be cool. Never in my life could I care enough about yours to receive constant updates about what you are doing. I don't care, he doesn't care, she doesn't care, NO ONE CARES. Put on some shoes and go outside, get you some sun and a hobby.)

"But Godfather," you may ask, "there's this really cute girl in bus org, and I've been g-flirting with her for a while. I think I'm going to g-ask-her-out. Is that allowed?" My answer: of course it's allowed. Like I said, everything is fair game. However, I reserve the right to tell everyone what you did in my status.

The History of "Pulling a Cumberland"

The History
"Pulling a Cumberland" is a euphemism for doing something without thinking. It can be dumb, disastrous, or just plain embarrassing. In the rare but gloriously hilarious situation, it is all three.

A "Cumberland" is a quick was of saying someone has "pulled a Cumberland." Often, it involves law students, lawyers, or law schools. Don't be fooled, though, anyone can "Pull a Cumberland." We just hope we're around to write about it.

Here's a quick example:
Third-year law students complaining about the lack of jobs, blaming another 'lesser' school for the lack thereof, and dancing like drunken fools. If they've had trouble finding jobs in the past, I'm sure this performance will get the hiring partner in their corner.

The Name
The inspiration for the name: pleas for child health care and a home for puppies on the list-serve of an anonymous law school in the Deep South quickly spirals into a racism-riddled debate on par with with a preschool playground slap fight over the see-saw. Take time to read it, all of it, if you were somehow left off of the email chain that enveloped the South following this debacle.

What to Expect
A small, inconspicuous law school in the Deep South houses some of the most ridiculous behavior known to man. This site is dedicated to exploiting "Cumberlands," both in and out of law school, and sharing them with the world in hopes that you will be entertained. If you need a higher purpose (and obviously aren't in the legal field), this site should serve as a warning to all to think before acting.

What will you read on this blog? Examples of "Pulling a Cumberland," from law school/junior high behavior to political blunders, and everything in-between.

Coming soon: "Obama's Cumberland of the Week," "Summer Clerking... had me a blast," "La-rama Unmasked," "We Salute You Mr/Mrs Cumberland," "The Legal Profession and the Pledge Sytem," and "Professors Gone Wild."

Requests and suggestions are always welcome.

Busted

In law school, the laptop is as essential as the overwhelming sense of superiority everyone feels. While it is a necessity for note-taking (and by note taking, I mean surfing until you find the end of the internet), certain websites have a tendency to "blow your cover" in class. Addictinggames.com, while amazing in its ability to fight off impending narcolepsy, possesses a few games that are, should we say, CPU greedy. This site, among others, are infamous for causing computer fan speeds to increase faster than your blood pressure at finals time.

Everyone knows "that guy." The guy that hasn't opened Word all semester. The guy that shows up only to sign the roll so that the ABA doesn't call him into C&F, or any other alphabet-soup oversight body. About half-way through class, you hear the fan. It picks up, and despite any sense of shame "that guy" should feel, he continues playing his rocking-truck game online.

But remember this: There is no need to give "that guy" any evil looks or gdeath-threats (i.e. textual assault transmitted through gchat). There is no need for "that guy" to be harassed or shamed in the public forum. Why? Because "that guy" is a hero. So today, we solute you, astronaut-of-the-torts-class. Without the loud indication of your computer running through it's launch procedures, we might actually feel bad about surfing through The Onion archives while we spend hundreds of dollars an hour for our legal "education."