Thursday, April 19, 2007

Et Cetera

Scene: Outside the Hart auditorium, just this side of the glass partition, Isaac, Jay, and Scott are talking.

So anyway--

[Sasha suddenly appears pressed against the other side of the glass, pushing his not insignificant nose against the pane.]

[There's some staring. Time passes.]

SCOTT: [gesturing] Isaac, this is my Regulations Professor. He's vowed to keep scaring people by doing this until he gets tenure.


[7:03:00 PM] Scott says: I just made my professor crack up.

[7:03:26 PM] Scott says: Somebody else was talking and I whispered something. He started giggling and ducked behind the podium.

[7:06:13 PM] Scott says: And he used to be a standup comic!

[7:50:03 PM] Scott says: Professor's got that look in his eye that says: "I'm not letting you out in time to catch The Office."

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Mutant Turtle

Here's the email:

Hello Everybody,
During our next class, we will discuss, among other things, the Nifong case in NC. You can find the NC State Bar's Amended Complaint at, under "News and Information" at the bottom center of the page. I just downloaded it and its pretty easy. I am told that you can find Nifong's answer to the complaint at
I haven't tried to download the answer yet.

The Amended Complaint is actually pretty good reading.

We'll see you on Thursday. HAVE A NICE WEEKEND!!!



oh weird i thought you just signed off as joe
i'll read it now

Yeah, that's my catchphrase nowadays. "HAVE A NICE WEEKEND!!! --- Joe." What do you think?


it's making me giggle


i think it proviokes the right balance between nice and terrifying and absurd


I'll bring the nunchuks.

Jess: uh oh. I had no idea you were a ninja

6:16 PM me:
Actually, it's just what I could find in the bargain bin at the Salvation Army. I've also got a Superman cape and a Zorro mask. The whole hero persona isn't the most coherent.

6:17 PM Jess:
that's awesome
you're Super Ninja Zorro??

That's right, I am SuperZorroNinja... Mutant Turtle.

Tuesday, April 17, 2007


DUKE ORSINO: If music be the food of love, play on.

MUSICIAN: All right. Hey, what if music is just a sequence of pitches, harmonically related, produced by instruments with particular timbres at particular times?

ORSINO: Just play, damn it.

And He Works in the Idea of "Competing Governments"... A Masterstroke

Randy Barnett has some stuff to say about the Duke case, starting with a chilling admission--Years ago, I appeared on "The Ricki Lake Show"--and ending with a plea for less, or at least better, lawyer jokes.


[1:32:34 PM] [ScrappyDooRagTime]: I'm supposed to gather some writing samples for this interview, but I don't know of anything I've written that's actually good.
[1:33:16 PM] Scott says: What about David Copperfield? That was great.
[1:33:20 PM] Scott says: Wait. That was Dickens.

Hold Me

Whenever I'm listening to hold music and the song ends, I always expect the customer service representative to pick up at that moment. But there's no reason that should be, and indeed, it's generally not the case.

But in the future...

Sunday, April 15, 2007


I cleaned my bathroom today. This is no small achievement.

My lessor and I have different tolerances for grime. Bob thinks: "If it looks clean, it is clean." I, however, think: "If it smells clean, it is clean." This discrepancy in sanitation preference leads to an interesting bit of tension. "Bathroom's looking a little dusty, Scott." "Really? I was in there this morning and it smelled fine."

A thorough scrubbing every three weeks satiates me. On the other hand, Bob would seem to prefer it get a scrubbing weekly; I gather so because he more than once has stepped up to the plate in place of me and cleaned the bathroom between the one and three week mark since the last cleaning. And, ay, there's the scrub, for after coming home and finding my bathroom sparkling without my doing, a wave of guilt floods me (this indicates that, for all my failures, I might be trainable--take note, ladies). But of course, I can't just clean an already pristine lavatory again as means of recompense. Rather I vow to clean the presently antiseptic room again once it has grown filthy once more.

Herein lies the delicate dance. For at once, the bathroom must become dirty to justify disinfecting, yet at the same time, if it grows too soiled, then Bob will take it upon himself to clean it, and my contrition will double. Trapped between this shameful Scylla and noisome Charybdis, victory takes a precise mix of martial scheduling and cleanly intuition.

Today the room was redolent and ripe--I had a full roll of paper towels, a rag, and an mp3 player chocked to the brim with Mozart. Bob was distracted downstairs.

I threw open the door, pulled out the cleanser, and set upon the sink.

And now, it is glorious, truly, with counters like mirrors, mirrors like still water, and a tub that's ready for display in the Louvre with other skillfully touched-up sculptures.

Alas, they say a thing of beauty is beautiful forever--if only!