I just went to a law function, of sorts. There was a half-assed bbq and soft drink and a whole pack of nicely-besuited lawyers pimping for Mallesons Stephen Jaques. This is the big one. You go work there, you have officially become as corporate as it is possible to become. There was an entire conversation of smart-arse remarks on the subject of Faust, Mephistopheles and unwise bargains that ended with the soon-to-be-classic line "But surely hell is empty right now?" just before we all grovelled for jobs and offered them anything they wanted. It's like a rock'n'roll documentary, only without the music. And groupies. Is it still selling out if that's all you ever planned to do anyway? Or do we get to say we're being true to our vision?
I have also found out that, apparently, the number one corporate law firm in the Asia-pacific (Company tagline: We're faceless, too large and take ourselves too seriously. That's a direct quote from the glossy brochure I'm holding right now. Also, there is an ambiguous slogan: "Going beyond". Nice. I haven't seen such an open-ended invitation to make cheap jokes since "the answer is Liberal". I mean, "going beyond the standards of right and wrong" even rhymes.) does not require anything more than a high credit average. After that, evidence of a job, a life and a social conscience need to make resume appearance.
Which means that I and all my other lemming-like buddies will be out there determinedly having a life and pursuing social justice with clenched jaw and unwavering zeal, asking people to note our people-skills and bonhomie as we save the poor from those pesky developers by putting on a musical show in the treehouse. As long as we can put it on our resume. It's like the scouts, but with more discreet badges and fewer woggles.
Finally, I know this is juvenile, but the AP article on Mel Gibson's Passion For DUIs was written by Gary Gentile. Clearly part of the Twelve Elders of Gentility's Protocols. Christians control the media, don't let the liberal press deceive you.

Damn uni server will not let me use my other diary. So, although this is not strictly law related, I thought I'd talk about the movie I watched yesterday before I forget it. Or block it. Or something.
I don't quite understand the concept of remakes. Gus Van Sant has made a scene-by-scene remake of Psycho that inspired me to write a word-by-word remake of Don Quixote. Only this time, the windmills are pissed off. And they are in every scene. I'm a goddamn genius; the Jerry Bruckheimer of the modern novel. The only justification for a remake is this: that you add something new that deepens our understanding of the themes the original creator was trying to get across.
Which brings me to Kaante. It rips off The Usual Suspects (even down to using the same park pagoda in one scene), Reservoir Dogs/City on Fire and a couple of scenes from Heat.
The thing is, as it's a Bollywood production, the ear-cutting scene is prefaced with a quick musical number. You think I'm joking. They introduce the guy standing in for Michael Madsen with him singing about his eternal love and dancing. When all the thugs have finished preparing for the crime of the century, they celebrate with some singing and dancing. The guy they get the explosives from claims his merchandise helped blow up Kashmir. So they talk about loving India and throw him off a building.
I'm still terribly confused about what happened. All I know for sure is that they spent a lot of time walking in slow motion, there were dance numbers intercut with tense interrogations and that random patriotism seems to be a censorship requirement.
I remember one of my ex-flatmates watching Old Boy with me and her turning it off because it was "silly". She preferred Bollywood. Having now seen a searing exposition of the drama that can be conveyed by having the toughest guy in the gang dancing in unison with a bunch of women dressed as strippers, I can only hope that my flatmate is available for me to deliver a grovelling, all-singing and dancing apology.

Well. The exam results are back in. It looks as if my inability to sit down and study had some unfortunate consequences. Or perhaps my values have become so warped by being a mature-age student that I no longer have the underachiever's perspective that helped me slack my way through every other scholastic arena. I have an average of 79, which I can clearly see as being pretty good, but I still feel it could have been much better. Clearly this is a slippery slope that will only end in golf with the boss, coming home to a freshly made scotch and soda and trying to hide my wife's magical powers in order to get the McAllister account.

Although there are many valid points being made here, with particular reference to the total bullshit that is Guantanamo Bay, I just enjoy people referring to the prime minister as a bloodless little coot. Also, I have a job as a writing lackey for a research paper on the law. I can safely describe it as a relentless page turner which will keep you electrified until the very last page, like the very highest quality technothriller.