Oh yeah, don't watch that if you have epilepsy...
Monday, July 20, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
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 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.
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