Brute court

I just came back from my moot court final argument. I honestly hope that the law school norm that the worse you feel after an exam, usually the better you did, holds up here. But considering that these were oral arguments, I'm not entirely sure that it holds up here.

The final round of competition involves a panel of 7 judges, who are firing questions at you from the bench as you're going through your arguments. In the earlier rounds, we had fewer judges and not as many strenuous questions. But in the semi-final round earlier this week, the questions were definitely more difficult and more rapidly fired. Tonight, the questions were fired with automatic weapons loaded with depleted uranium bullets. The most brutal part involved a question that in retrospect, I answered in a completely meaningless BS manner. Thinking back, I know the perfect answer, and that NOT the answer I gave... not even in the same universe as the answer I gave.

So, I'm surprised that I even made it to the final round. Around 80 people were in the beginning briefing and rounds, around 50 survived to semifinals, and 30 of us survived to finals. The top 18 make special teams and automatically get onto Moot Court Society. So, I'm hoping that 12 or more people were just as nervous as I was tonight.

Ironically, the rewards for this competition were strange. Everytime I worked really hard to survive another round, I earned the opportunity to do more hard work. And if all my hard work pays off and I make it onto society, it means even more brutally hard work next semester in interschool competition. So, I'm not entirely sure I want to make special teams. Who am I kidding, of course I want to make special teams. That way there's something on my resume next to my name that doesn't imply that I'm a complete idiot.

But in the end, I have to say that I really enjoyed this competition. The brief writing was annoying as crap, but the arguments were actually fun. Thinking on your feet, actually knowing your stuff, answering some questions pretending that I know my stuff, etc. It was definitely something that kept my interest, much more so than the crappy arguments and brief writing from legal writing last year. So in the end, even if I dind't make it, I at least enjoyed myself.

So halloween is coming up very soon. This weekend is full of parties which I'm really looking forward to. The law school party, the Harvest Moon Ball, is really fun. I remember having a blast over there last year. Last year I tried dressing up as the monopoly man. But some stuff went wrong, namely the face paint starting to itch, and not having a monocle so nobody knew who I was. Most people thought I was Charlie Chaplin. But oh well, fun nonetheless.

This year I'm planning on going as the Count from Sesame St. He was always a pretty cool character from way back in the day. He was a vampire, meaning he was pretty badass and had an evil side to him. But he was also friendly and taught little kids math. I vant to teach you math....


So I have the cape (albeit black), some face paint, and a fake goatee. Can't wait for saturday.

Time

Time is flying very quickly. I can't believe it's Friday. My parents were in town last weekend, which was a badly needed break from the torture that is my life here in Atlanta. My parents were in Florida for a few days before with some of their good friends, and came by Atlanta to spend some time with me before going home.

One of my dad's closest friends is a guy I call Abdul Uncle, who lives here in Atlanta. Uncle in the Indian sense. Any Indian knows this cultural trend, with any adults of your parents age, regardless of blood relation, is referred to as 'Uncle' or 'Aunty.' It's pretty nice actually. Abdul Uncle and my father have known eachother the vast majority of their lives and have known eachother for probably more than 50 years. It was Abdul Uncle and his wife who my parents were with in Florida.

When I was home last, I came across a great picture of the two of them at my parent's wedding in the mid 1970's:

This is the two of them when they were in Florida last week.

I absolutly love seeing pictures of people from two very differnet times. Even when I'm at home, I think it's hilarious to look at old family photos and realize how much people change, both physically and socially over the years. The problem is that it's a gradual change that can only be noticed when you look at old pictures.

The idea for the movie "Back to the Future" was thought up when Robert Zemeckis was in his attic looking at some of his father's old stuff. He came across his dad's old Highschool Yearbook and was amused by his dad's photo in there. He started wondering what his fater was like as a younger man, and was intrigued about the thought of being able to meet his father as a young man. Thus, the idea for the movie was born and became what it did.

I always wondered what it would be like to know your parents when they were young. What kind of people they were, what similarities exist between them in their youth and you today, and between them in their youth and them today.

I'm even more curious to see what things will be like 20 or 30 years from now, probably having children of my own, with them wondering what I was like when I was younger, and quite honestly, me not wanting to tell them anything.

By any other name...

(Note* I'm updating this after a long time after someone who shall remain nameless has been gawking over my shoulder.)

I remember having to read Romeo and Julliet back in highschool. One of the famous lines is "A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet." It's from the part where Julliet of the house of Capulet is on her balcony complaining how the guy she loves is forbidden to her because of his family's name, the Montagues.

That's a powerful assertion, that there is effectively nothing in a name. In reality, there's a lot in the name of a particular person or being. That's why almost all big name actors in Hollywood have changed their names to sound more catchy and 'vanilla' American. For example, Sir Ben Kingsley, was born Krishna Bhanji. Ralph Lauren is actually Ralph Lipschitz. Can you imagine seeing fragrances, "Polo, by Ralph Lipschitz." That just sounds cheap and tacky.

Similarly, names alone sell countless products regardless of how crappy they really are. I remember, when I was working for a short stint in the catering business, I was reading through this culinary guide that had some history of all sorts of foods. It turns out that just a few short years ago, Portobello mushrooms, before adopting the name, were some of the worst sellers and were being dumped on the side of the road by farmers who couldn't sell them. Then one farmer had the brilliant idea of renaming them something exotic, chose Portobello, and they started flying off the shelves. Same stuff, different name, different profit margin.

Same thing in politics. Innocent civilians killed are 'collateral damage.' Invasion and occupation is 'liberation.' Terrorists are freedom fighters depending on who's asking.

When growing up, I used to hate my name. Of course my parents had to give my sister, Sophia, the normal name, and I had to suffer with the one that's difficult to pronounce. So I grew up having a million nicknames, Zize, Zas, Zed-man, Z-dawg, Bob (long story), Dick (more for personality than not knowing my real name), etc. More so than nicknames, I had mis-pronounciations, most often Zahaar, and variations on that one. It wasn't until much later I got comfortable with it, and realized that it was somewhat unique (at least here in the western world). So now, no problems with my name.

Which brings me to an article I read earlier today about Nicholas Cage. Now I'm all for meaningful but exotic names. But Hollywood celebrities, most of whom do not even have a highschool education, name their children something entirely stupid and meaningless. Most notable is Gweneth Paltrow naming her kid Apple, and some other idiot naming his kid Pilot Inspektor. Either it's an elaborate joke where these dumb names are just decoys, or these celebrities are really dumb.

Nicholas Cage named his kid Kal-el, which was Superman's original name on his home planet. If Cage was Israeli or something, maybe he'd get away with naming the kid that on the excuse that it sounds kind of Jewish. But no, Cage was born Nicholas Coppola, of pure Italian descent. He named his kid after a comic book hero. This kid is going to grow up and do a lot of drugs wishing his parents were normal. All these kids with horrible names will never grow up to like their names or find the hidden meanings or any poetic reason behind them. They have dumb names that were given to them for dumb reasons.

Crap by any other name would smell just as foul...