Art Can't Hurt You

So the ConLaw exam has finally passed and I cannot remember an exam which has ever left me so exhausted. I honestly think even the LSAT was less tiring. After this ConLaw exam (which was 4.5 hours long, by the way) I came home and could barely hold a phone conversation, let alone dive into studying for another exam. At Mary Baldwin, self-scheduled exams were standard procedure, with the possible exception of art classes where slides played a major part in the exam. While I was there, they (the royal “they” so often referenced) always mentioned how lucky we were to have self-scheduled exams and it was always a big selling point stressed to prospective students. I never really thought much of it, not being overly familiar with any other way of doing things. Now that I am living through the alternative however, I am seriously missing the luxury. Though my exam schedule this semester is not too bad, in undergrad, I always relied on my ability to move things around if I got in a jam or wasted a day procrastinating. Now that I have no wiggle room, forcing myself to study has become a sort of an art form. Too frequently, I feel like a toddler, rewarding myself periodically and taking all too frequent breaks for something even marginally more fun (like washing dishes or watering my plants). Of course right now, the blog is the procrastination of choice, so...

Laws:

The exam currently up at bat is Property, standard fodder for any 1L. Looking back over my notes for the semester, my first thought is how little the average person knows about property, despite the fact that it permeates nearly every aspect of our lives. (Okay, lets be honest, that was my second thought. My first thought was, Damn, I should have taken better notes...) For example, one of the things we discussed on the first day of class was the word property itself. Most people assume that the word property refers to the whatever thing it is you own. However, in the legal context at least, this is completely wrong. In actuality, property refers to the relationship that exists between you and the thing, not the thing itself. Though this seems like a tiny distinction, its this kind of subtle nuance that the law is built on, and the kind of completely ridiculous minutia that I love.

The other thing that is currently on my mind about property is just how much it is related to other subjects. At least in my opinion, overlap in various areas of law is to be expected. The overlap I didn't expect come from other fields that I've dabbled in. The example that is the most stark in my mind right now has to do with art and symbolism. Throughout this semester, my professor has referred to ownership rights as a bundle of sticks. Fee simple ownership is when a possessor has all the sticks of the bundle in his possession. Granting easements, future interests or life estates is like giving some of the sticks away. The power of the ownership is strongest when the sticks are united, but they are still separable and independent. This metaphor, though a little simplistic, is actually a perfect way to understand property rights. But I also can't help but think of other places that the "bundle of sticks" has entered my studies. For example, when I studied art in undergrad, we talked about symbolism in art a lot. One of my favorite pieces for symbols is Houdon's statute of George Washington. In the statue, there is plow at Washington's feet, symbolizing Washington's desire for the country to return to the field and the work of peace-time after the Revolutionary War. Washington also wears a medal of Cinncinnatus, a 5th century Roman general, nominated as dictator against his wishes, who later disbanded the army and returned to his farm. The best piece of symbolism however is the bundle of sticks sitting at Washington's side. These kinds of bundles, called fasces, originated in Roman times and were used as a symbol of authority and power in the Republic. Washington's fasces, in the statue, consist of 13 sticks, representing the 13 colonies of the new republic. The 13 colonies are strongest when united, but they are still distinct and independent. Washington however, was portrayed as having complete power over all the sticks. It could almost be said that Washington is portrayed as holding the new nation in fee simple. Uncanny, isn't it?

Sausages:

Unfortunately, the studying has overtaken the cooking and I haven't any new culinary adventures to report (though I have found a new organic food store, with which I am now completely obsessed, so that's one thing). However, I do have some food related commentary despite. Some of my favorite interests revolve around food. Recently, some of my close friends and I have all found ourselves on a similar organic food jag. Perhaps its just a symptom of our age or our slightly incendiary personalities, but we have all been reading anything we can get our hands on about organic food, eating locally, the Slow Food movement, raw foods, sustainable agriculture and more. I won't bore you with my rant (as it could go on for days) but suffice to say, organics have become a bit of obsession for me. To parallel my reading, I've also taken some more proactive measures. For one, I've taken to growing lettuce and herbs on my front stoop, and though my roommate thinks I'm slightly nuts, its been fabulous fun. My other new love though is the farmer's market. The Colonial Williamsburg one has been having sporadic winter markets (that I've happily attended, and photographed...) and the regular season starts this weekend. However, while the farmer's market goes on in all its wonder on Saturday, I'll be trapped in the library taking the aforementioned Property exam. The sacrifices I make for my career...

I'll end the rant here, but as a parting word, if there is a farmer's market anywhere near you, go. GO! Talk to the growers and farmers who come to market. You'll find that farmer's are not the backwoods rednecks that children's books often lead us to believe they are. The people who come to markets are artists and craftsmen of the soil, hard working and decent people who make their living from their land and are immensely proud of what they do. Though they usually don't go to grad school or toil away in cubicles all day long, they work harder than many of us will ever work in our lives. They're subject not only to the hell that is the economy, but to the mess we've made of our planet, changing and unpredictable weather patterns, corporate competition, a processed food culture and a society with little love for vegetables. But the organic and local food movements are growing as the economy forces us to reconsider our priorities. These movements are, and always have been, fueled by individuals: the farmer's who tend their crops and the consumers who love to buy them. Become one of these individuals who are willing to give the extra few minutes and the extra few dollars that it takes to be a concerned eater. You'll feel incredible and have tons of fun. Plus, your food will taste great!

Bad Purpose

So today has been at least slightly more productive than yesterday on a few fronts. Though I haven't left my house all day (except to take out the trash, which let's face it, lacks a certain ambiance) I have pretty much solidified my grasp on the 14th amendment. Seeing as how that is my ConLaw prof's pet topic and will probably encompass half of the exam, I'm viewing it as a good thing. Despite this, I found plenty of time to procrastinate nonetheless. In my own defense, it was really all Katie's fault...

Laws:

Anyone who would argue that math has no place in the law, has clearly never spent time studying the law. In my view, it seems that everything in Constitutional Law centers around some incredibly complex formula. For example,

Race + multiple other factors, considered in the totality = a perfectly acceptable Affirmative Action scheme. But, Race as a plus point - individualized admissions consideration = a big smack down from the SCOTUS.

Or,

Ancient and unyielding Justices, who were no friends of FDR + New Deal objectives = big fail. So, (FDR + astronomical electoral popularity) x some intense constitutional finagling = Court Packing Plan.

If you're not familiar with the Court Packing Plan, it was, by far, one of the most inventive uses of the Constitution's intentional ambiguity that I have ever encountered. In the mid-1930s, the Great Depression was still consuming most of the country and FDR was winning big electoral victories with his vision of a "New Deal for America". The New Deal was fueled almost entirely by very progressive legislation, all of which was subject to review by the SCOTUS. Initially, it seemed that most of the legislation would survive but in 1935 the court dealt it's first blow to FDR's plans and then all hell broke loose. The court invalidated law after law, and decimated many of FDR's best laid plans.

FDR however, was not to be trifled with. In '36, he was handed one of the largest electoral victories in history, and he really took it out for a spin. At the time, 6 of the justices were not at all inclined to side with FDR on anything. 2 were centrists, less staunchly conservative than others, but still no friends of the New Deal legislation. The other 4 are famously known as "The Four Horsemen", all of whom were incredibly and unshakably against all progressive actions. Additionally, 6 of the justices on the SCOTUS were also over the age of 70. FDR put all these factors together and came up with his solution. Since the Constitution does not specify just how many justices will sit on the SCOTUS, he would simply add more. 6 more to be exact, one for every member of the court over the age of 70, all of whom would, coincidentally, agree with FDR in every way imaginable. Though the plan ultimately failed (due mainly to the indignation of the justices themselves, as well as an unforeseen ideological shift by one of the centrists) it was an incredible, not to mention ballsy, move by a strong executive (who later got to name several new justices anyway) and serves to illustrate just how malleable our legal system really is.

On it's face, this kind of intense variability doesn't really square with the rigidity of formulas and mathematics, though it's clear that all these elements are present in the diverse field of the law. Nonetheless, throw in some Aristotelian logic, a little bit of civil liberties and some old fashioned work ethic and you have my day today. At least I can be thankful that its not all rote, and sometimes, legal history isn't quite as rigid and dismal as it sounds.

Sausages:

So back to it all being Katie's fault. Katie is my former roommate and friend from undergrad. She basically serves as some strange marriage of sister, soul mate and sarcastic old-lady best friend, and is currently paying her dues to the grad-school gods down in Mississippi. We are both completely obsessed with cooking, organics and traditional foods. We spoke on the phone briefly this afternoon (which is really saying something for us, trust me) and she mentioned in passing that she had made some homemade pasta before she left to go out, which she would later cook up and have for dinner. Pasta-making is one of her new found loves in the food world and I've been meaning to get on board for a while now. So, what better time to try it than when I should be studying? Below is the recipe for my Italian Herb Pasta that I made this afternoon in between the 14th amendment and Federalism. I haven't perfected the technique quite yet, but it was a pretty good (and very tasty) attempt. Like I said, it was all Katie's fault...

Italian Herb Pasta:

1 cup flour
1/4 tsp. salt
1 egg
1/8 cup water
2 tsp. olive oil
1 tbs. assorted herbs (I used rosemary, basil, thyme and parsley)


Mix flour, salt and herbs in a mixing bowl and dump onto your countertop. Make a well in the flour and put the egg, water and oil in it. Slowly incorporate the wet and dry ingredients until you have a ball of dough (you can add some more water if its too crumbly). Put the ball of dough back in the mixing bowl, cover and let rest for at least 15 mins. After resting, put the dough back on a lightly floured countertop and knead. And knead. And knead. At least 10 minutes, until your dough is workable. Then separate the dough into 2 equal parts and work with one at a time (keep the other half covered to avoid drying). Roll the dough into a rectangle, 1/8-1/16 inches thick. Once rolled out, fold it lengthwise into thirds and slowly cut the pasta into thin strips (for linguine) with a sharp knife. Then let the pasta dry for at least a half hour (use a pasta rack if you're fancy, or the back of a chair, a wooden spoon between 2 glasses, whatever...).

To cook: Boil water. Add pasta. Cook about 5 minutes (when pasta floats, start testing for done-ness).

Truth be told...

So, truth be told, the beginning of this blogging is at least tangentially related to the fact that I have absolutely no motivation to study for my exams. The ConLaw exam is on Tuesday and it is beginning to loom quite ominously. So of course, blogging and watching HGTV (my middle-aged woman guilty pleasure) is the solution. Though I have been at least slightly productive. For example, I've showered, figured out how my air conditioning works (or doesn't as the case seems to be...) and been to the food store to buy hummus and ice cream, the ultimate exam sustenance.

So, the musings for the day:


LAWS:

I have finally mastered the Cleburne standard for Heightened Rational Basis Review, or so I think. Between the case opinion, 2 ConLaw textbooks, a commercial outline, a friend's outline, my class notes, the note-taker's class notes, my Prof's email messages and 2 hours of my time I have mastered the standard and it's application.

So the gist of it? If your government is racist or sexist, you're golden. If they just generally don't like you, you're going to have a little more work ahead of you.


The Cleburne opinion was written by Justice Byron White. If you don't know anything about him, he's really an interesting character. He was a running back for the Pittsburgh Pirates (now Steelers) and the Detroit Lions in the late 30s/early 40s until he joined the Navy in WWII. He went to law school after the war and worked his way through the legal ranks until he was appointed to the bench by JFK in the early 60s. White retired from the SCOTUS in 1993 and was replaced by Justice Ginsberg. Before retiring, the latter half of his time on the bench overlapped with the beginning half of Sandra Day O'Connor's time on the bench. Sandra Day O'Connor is the Chancellor of W&M and came to speak to the 1Ls earlier this semester (see, it all comes together). When asked about her interactions with the other Justices, Justice O'Connor told us all that the Justices were often so busy that they spent very little time together. However, Justice O'Connor said that one of the few people she did spend time with was Byron White. To illustrate this point she told us this story:

"Byron White, well...he liked to putt. And so do I. So, Byron, he had a little putter set up in his office. You had to hit the ball under the couch and out the other side. He had little mason jar on his desk, and you had to put a quarter in his mason jar to play with him. We did that a lot."

So now, though I am suffering through Cleburne and the largely unintelligible opinion that Byron White wrote (mainly to cover his own ass, I might add), I cannot help but picture him putting in his office and that makes it at least marginally better.

SAUSAGES:

On the food front, though I am studying a lot, I took a break this morning to marinate some tofu for my lunch when I felt like eating it. This tofu recipe actually has a somewhat hilarious history that comes from my freshman year in college. My friends and I lived on the second and third floors of a dorm building where the only full kitchen was on the ground level and often inaccessible. We were also somewhat strange and adventurous eaters and we soon developed a favorite recipe: Marinated Tofu. We took special trips to the organic food store to buy ingredients, marinated it in a cake pan (usually resting on whatever flat surface wasn't covered in textbooks and papers) and ate it plain and usually uncooked. It was perfection. It still brings happy nostalgic memories every time I eat it, even the slightly more normal and grown-up version that I now make. The recipe I use nowadays is below.


Marinated Tofu

For marinade:
Thinly sliced garlic cloves
Thinly sliced ginger root
Lemon segments
Lemon juice
Enough Tamari to cover the tofu
Pretty much anything else tasty and asian-esque

Put the garlic, ginger, lemon segments and lemon juice into the dish (I use a pie pan). Slice firm or extra firm tofu into about ¼ inch thick squares. Put the tofu on top of the other ingredients and then pour the tamari over the tofu until covered. Marinade for at least 2 hours (but really as long as you want for more flavor), turning the tofu over at least once about half way through. Then pan fry, about 2 minutes on each side, until golden brown. Serve over brown rice, couscous, quinoa etc. I like to garnish mine with some fresh herbs and sometimes some bean sprouts.

So we'll see how it goes...

So I've had this blog page for several months now but have yet to actually use it. After getting more into reading blogs however, I've decided that maybe its time for me to put my own stamp on the Internet...

The name of this blog is born out of an old saying, which was then used by Aaron Sorkin in the West Wing:

"There's two things you never want to let people see how you make them: laws and sausages."

In my world however, that's pretty much all I do. I go to law school and learn how we make laws. Then I come home and de-stress by cooking and reading about food. And that's pretty much my entire life right now. So, that's what I'm writing about here: law and food and the humor that accompanies both...we'll see how it goes.