How to Blog About Your Job and Not Get Caught
The Vol Abroad does the unthinkable and blogs about his job. Follow the link for the incriminating details!
I’m a Slithering Reptile!
A couple of weeks ago, I registered with the truth laid bear’s blogosphere ecosystem just for fun. Right out of the box, I was a lowly Insignificant Microbe, but after a few days I ascended to the status of Flippery Fish, bypassing completely the Slimy Molluscs, Lowly Insects, Crunchy Crustaceans, Wiggly Worms, and Multicellular Microorganisms.
After a few days as a Crawly Amphibian, I am proud to report that I am now a Slithering Reptile.
Thanks to n.z. bear for the fun.
You can keep track of my evolution on the sidebar over there, but I’m pretty sure that Slithering Reptiles is as high as lawyers get.
Artificial Intelligence in the Legal System?
The Boston Globe has an interesting piece on the potential application of Artificial Intelligence to the legal profession. Drake Bennett writes that:
[c]omputer judges, of course, aren’t going to be ascending to the bench in the foreseeable future. ‘’Nobody thinks that’s a good idea,” says Carole D. Hafner, a Northeastern University computer scientist and pioneer in using artificial intelligence to study the law. Judging, and most especially Supreme Court judging, is a complex and subtle mix of imagination, acuity, and political calculation. Still, at a time when doctors are starting to use software to aid in their diagnoses and when hedge funds are using computer models to make multibillion-dollar investment decisions, there is growing interest–even in an American legal establishment usually resistant to change–in finding ways to incorporate artificial intelligence into the law.
Okay, let’s just assume that the legal profession isn’t already full of artificial intelligence. Come on, go with me on this.
And we can agree that “court judging” is a complex and subtle mix of something — insert your own joke here — but “imagination, acuity, and political calculation?” I’m a former law clerk, and I’ve analyzed more than a few opinions. I’ve seen opinions that run the gamut of clarity, from perfectly pithy and precise (the ones ghost-written by me, of course!), to over-winded, tangential ramblings that serve only to raise more questions than they answer. And I’m not sure that imagination or political calculation really have much, if any, place in a court opinion.
The law is complicated and multi-farious, though, and I’m not sure that AI is well-suited for it. Still, the idea has a peculiar appeal, at least to the statutorily-based practitioners like tax attorneys (who, by the way, are a wild bunch). Just give these guys a set of facts, and they’ll start at the 101 statute and read their way through the dense material like it’s computer code, triggering a certain consequence here, referring to a definition there, and returning a result. See? I told you they were wild.
But for those other lawyers, those master manipulators of abstractions, the idea is almost laughable. Code may be able to mimic statutory analysis, but can it juggle the wind?
Anyway, the article refers to a couple of early products on the market, which, at the least, sound like fun:
The computer scientists John Zeleznikow of the University of Melbourne and Andrew Stranieri of the University of Ballarat, for example, have developed two pieces of legal software currently in use in their native Australia. One, SplitUp, calculates with impressive accuracy the likely results of divorce proceedings–its effect has been to encourage settlements, thus preventing unnecessary litigation. Another, GetAid, is used by an Australian government agency to appraise applicants for legal aid–a complicated calculation based on employment history, household income, the likelihood that the case will be won, and myriad other factors.
You can find Split-Up, which has apparently hired some marketing folks whose first task was to rename the product Family Law Software, here. Check out the picture on the front page. Go ahead, I’ll wait.
Okay, look at the lawyer (you can tell he’s a lawyer by the tell-tale Wall of Gold-Embossed Solemn-Looking Tomes just behind him). He looks like he’s about to dive across the polished cherrywood desk to keep the clients (you can tell they’re clients because they have their hands on their wallets) (it’s hidden from view!) from clawing each other’s eyes out. Can a computer do that?
I wasn’t able to find a link to GetAid, but while looking, I did find this piece from The Economist. It’s opening lines are much more fun than any link to a software program would have been anyway:
GIVEN the choice, who would you rather trust to safeguard your future: a bloodsucking lawyer or a cold, calculating computer? Granted, it’s not much of a choice, since neither lawyers nor computers are renowned for their compassion.
Hey!
Another (Not So) Subtle Difference Between Democrats, Republicans, and Southern Republicans
From A Mom and Her Blog (by the way, I recommend the “Sleepy Mom” look for her blog): A test to help you determine whether you are a Democrat, a Republican, or a Southern Republican.
The difference between the Republican and the Southern Republican is the funniest part. I imagine the Southern Republican saying “Bless his heart,” afterwards.
Act Now! Too Late.
An example of how quickly the window of opportunity opens and closes. Read the comment, as this is in fact still a very good deal on a TiVo, which is a great product, even if you can’t get paid $51 to buy one.
Huh? Reality-TV Writers
Okay, so this story focuses on a suit by “reality-TV writers” wanting overtime pay. But the bigger question is, why are there writers for reality television?
Anyone?
Bueller?
Bueller?
Attack of the Protein Deficiency, Slappy’s Lament, and a Parent’s Wonderful, Awful Idea
Background: We all went to Splash Country yesterday. It was hot and sunny, and we all got completely worn out.
More background: Freaktoe needs protein first thing in the morning. Don’t know why, but when she doesn’t get it shortly after she wakes up, she’s a different kid.
Still more background: Freaktoe is now 9. Slappy is 3. And by the way, I don’t really call our eldest Freaktoe anywhere except on this blog, but I do sometimes call the little nugget Slappy.
Fade in. It’s a little after 8:00 a.m., and I had a little more than 30 minutes to feed the kids before I needed to get myself ready so we could all make it to church on time. Slappy, still groggy and resembling a miniature homeless person, was wandering back and forth in the hall, begging anyone who would listen for her morning sippy cup of milk. Freaktoe was in front of the computer. I couldn’t immediately tell how long she’d been there, but it would become apparent soon enough.
“Freaktoe, time for breakfast. We’re out of bacon. What’s it gonna be? Peanut butter toast or vanilla Carnation?”
“Muffins.”
Not one of the choices, I thought before Slappy chimed in, whine-meter on 11. “May you get me some milk?”
“Just a minute, Slappy. We don’t have time for muffins.”
Freaktoe lost it immediately, which told me two things, neither of them good: (1) the protein window of opportunity had opened and closed; and (2) things were about to get ugly.
“Peanut butter is disGUSTing! I want muffins!” Stomp, stomp, stomp she went down the hall. When she was gone, Slappy re-appeared and reminded me that she wanted her milk. As if I’d forgotten the thirty appeals in the last sixty seconds.
Well, I sent Freaktoe to time out and turned my attention to Angela, who, in her defense, was busy doing something useful, I just can’t remember what. “Where’s Slappy’s sippy cup?”
Angela and Freaktoe responded at the same time. Freaktoe, as always, was first and loudest. “I HATE . . . Both sippy . . . PEANUT BUTTER . . . cups are . . . I WANT . . . dirty . . . MUFFINS!
After the echoed subsided, I drummed up every last ounce of false enthusiasm I had and said, “Slappy, how about some milk in a big-girl cup?”
Then Slappy lost it, bristling against the added pressures of growing older. “I don’t want a big-girl cup! I want a sippy cup!” To emphasize her point, she threw herself on the carpet and thrashed about like a beached flounder trying in vain to convulse itself back into the surf. Okay, then. Noted.
Before I could deal with that, Freaktoe started intentionally making choking noises over in the time-out chair. “Ack! Ack! Ack, Ack!” She started doing this within the last two weeks. Don’t know why. One of life’s little mysteries.
“Freaktoe, stop acting like a baby.”
Freaktoe didn’t care for this comment. She broke out in tears and went running down the hall to hide and cry. For a moment, I could hear nothing but “DON’T CALL ME A BABY!!!” rising and falling in pitch like a passing ambulance. As it faded, Slappy’s lament filled the void. “I WANT A SIPPY CUP!”
Breathing deeply, I fixed some peanut butter toast for both Freaktoe and Slappy and poured some milk into a small plastic glass for Slappy.
The cacophony of Freaktoe’s distant bawling and Slappy’s not-distant-enough screaming continued while I drank my chocolate Carnation. Eventually, though, I had Slappy and Freaktoe sulking, but sitting at the table trying to keep from diluting their peanut butter with residual tears.
It was quiet. The squall had passed and left little damage in its wake. Patience and wisdom had prevailed, and the girls had come to terms with life’s terrible disappointments. It was smooth sailing from here.
“Freaktoe, whatcha want to drink? Milk or water?”
“Water,” she says.
And then I had an idea. A Grinch-ish, wonderful, awful idea.
What would happen if I now washed out the sippy cup, filled it with milk, and gave it to
. . . Freaktoe?
Oh, how the sparks would fly!
Well, there’s no good way to finish this story except by lying, because I didn’t actually do it. I’m generally not a fan of intentionally inflicting permanent emotional damage on my loved ones. I’m happy to report that Freaktoe ate her protein and Slappy drank her milk out of a big-girl cup.
And I still have my sanity. But it could go at any moment.
A New Twist on an Old Joke
Jeff Foxworthy’s You Might be a Redneck If . . . 2005 Calendar for today, Tuesday, July 19:
You might be a redneck if . . . all your wedding guests were seated on the same side of the church.
And since SKBubba is no longer blogging, I’ll say it: Okay, then.
Patent on a Stick
Just discovered IPWatchdog.com, which has been compiling a list of obscure patents for at least a couple of years. My favorite is the animal toy. Click the link — IPWatchdog’s commentary is hilarious.
