More old myspace blogs
Monday, October 22, 2007
Suing god
The most interesting thing about this is that no one has sought to stop this lawsuit from continuing- which was the point the senator was really trying to prove- yet, people are more than willing to hop to Mr/Mrs God's defense, as if s/he/it couldn't manage alone. That implies Mr/Mrs God is either incapable or uncaring- two things that are not possible if Mr/Mrs God is a "perfect" being. By coming to Mr/Mrs God's defense, they are actually repudiating his/her/its existence, and by bringing forth the suit in the first place (you can't sue fictional characters from old books) Ernie Chambers is avowing his faith (as well as that of Nebraska courts, which does bring up the whole "separation of church and state" issue, which I'm too tired to delve into right now...)
Aiming to prove a point about frivolous lawsuits, Ernie Chambers, a Nebraska state senator, sued God earlier this month in state court. The action seeks a permanent injunction ordering God to cease certain harmful activities such as "fearsome floods" and "pestilential plagues." Mr. Chambers asked the court to waive the requirement that the defendant be personally served with the complaint. Because God is omnipresent and omniscient, God would have actual knowledge of the action, Mr. Chambers argued.
Last week, an answer mysteriously appeared at the Douglas County Courthouse.
"Defendant denies that this or any court has jurisdiction...over Him," wrote God's lawyer, "any more than the court has jurisdiction over the wind or rain, sunlight or darkness."
"Defendant admits that He is present in Douglas County, Neb., but no more or less than...any other discernible point in the universe."
Playing the role of God's lawyer: Eric Perkins from Corpus Christi, Texas. Mr. Perkins said that when he heard about Mr. Douglas's lawsuit on the news, he felt compelled to respond. "When I read the complaint, it provoked something deep inside me," said Mr. Perkins, a sole practitioner with a general-litigation practice.
As far as his fee arrangement, with the Almighty, Mr. Perkins was mum. "I can't disclose that on the grounds of attorney-client privilege." He added: "And though my soul could stand to be saved just as much as any other lawyer, I'm not counting on any delayed remuneration from my client."
November 2, 2007
Dia de los Muertos is the new black
This year, as usual, I did not go the Castro for Halloween. Those of you who live in the Bay Area know what I'm talking about. I went the first couple of years I lived here, but even then it was bordering on overkill (figuratively and now literally). I don't want to get into what it has become, and all of the negativity and idiocy involved.
So, for the past five years I have lamented Halloween in SF. There really is nothing like getting dressed up in your wildest and running through the streets with other crazy drunk people.
I'd always had a general working knowledge of Dia de los Muertos- Day of the Dead, Mexico's Halloween, but had never taken part in the celebration, until this year. My dear friend Diana had a going away/Dia de los Muertos party (Diana de los Muertos?), that started with a dozen or so of her close friends and plus-ones having a candle lit ceremony calling out our dead loved ones. After that, we all ran down the alley where she lives and waited for the parade to start, and we would join in "when it felt right."
I had expected a somber event, with wailing grandmothers beating their chests, men in cheap suits with pictures of their dead ancestors pinned to their ties, and children banging pots and pans with no idea of why they were doing it, but secretly enjoying the fact that they were allowed to walk down the middle of the street banging things and screaming without any adults telling them to stop.
Well, that quaint idea was totally wrong.
It's like a low stress Halloween. There's no worrying about your costume, because everybody wears one of three things- all black, all white, or all skeleton. No costume? No Problem- grab a tambourine.
We waited for the Aztec drummers to kick the party into gear, then jumped in the parade. Guinness should be there to record the most people spontaneously doing the Thriller Dance. This must be what the Castro was like fifteen years ago. Sure, there were people drinking and, um, doing other stuff, but there were parents with baby strollers, white haired men with drums, children in costumes, and the requisite half (or more) naked people. I've never had so much fun taking three hours to walk around the block.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Suing god
The most interesting thing about this is that no one has sought to stop this lawsuit from continuing- which was the point the senator was really trying to prove- yet, people are more than willing to hop to Mr/Mrs God's defense, as if s/he/it couldn't manage alone. That implies Mr/Mrs God is either incapable or uncaring- two things that are not possible if Mr/Mrs God is a "perfect" being. By coming to Mr/Mrs God's defense, they are actually repudiating his/her/its existence, and by bringing forth the suit in the first place (you can't sue fictional characters from old books) Ernie Chambers is avowing his faith (as well as that of Nebraska courts, which does bring up the whole "separation of church and state" issue, which I'm too tired to delve into right now...)
Aiming to prove a point about frivolous lawsuits, Ernie Chambers, a Nebraska state senator, sued God earlier this month in state court. The action seeks a permanent injunction ordering God to cease certain harmful activities such as "fearsome floods" and "pestilential plagues." Mr. Chambers asked the court to waive the requirement that the defendant be personally served with the complaint. Because God is omnipresent and omniscient, God would have actual knowledge of the action, Mr. Chambers argued.
Last week, an answer mysteriously appeared at the Douglas County Courthouse.
"Defendant denies that this or any court has jurisdiction...over Him," wrote God's lawyer, "any more than the court has jurisdiction over the wind or rain, sunlight or darkness."
"Defendant admits that He is present in Douglas County, Neb., but no more or less than...any other discernible point in the universe."
Playing the role of God's lawyer: Eric Perkins from Corpus Christi, Texas. Mr. Perkins said that when he heard about Mr. Douglas's lawsuit on the news, he felt compelled to respond. "When I read the complaint, it provoked something deep inside me," said Mr. Perkins, a sole practitioner with a general-litigation practice.
As far as his fee arrangement, with the Almighty, Mr. Perkins was mum. "I can't disclose that on the grounds of attorney-client privilege." He added: "And though my soul could stand to be saved just as much as any other lawyer, I'm not counting on any delayed remuneration from my client."
November 2, 2007
Dia de los Muertos is the new black
This year, as usual, I did not go the Castro for Halloween. Those of you who live in the Bay Area know what I'm talking about. I went the first couple of years I lived here, but even then it was bordering on overkill (figuratively and now literally). I don't want to get into what it has become, and all of the negativity and idiocy involved.
So, for the past five years I have lamented Halloween in SF. There really is nothing like getting dressed up in your wildest and running through the streets with other crazy drunk people.
I'd always had a general working knowledge of Dia de los Muertos- Day of the Dead, Mexico's Halloween, but had never taken part in the celebration, until this year. My dear friend Diana had a going away/Dia de los Muertos party (Diana de los Muertos?), that started with a dozen or so of her close friends and plus-ones having a candle lit ceremony calling out our dead loved ones. After that, we all ran down the alley where she lives and waited for the parade to start, and we would join in "when it felt right."
I had expected a somber event, with wailing grandmothers beating their chests, men in cheap suits with pictures of their dead ancestors pinned to their ties, and children banging pots and pans with no idea of why they were doing it, but secretly enjoying the fact that they were allowed to walk down the middle of the street banging things and screaming without any adults telling them to stop.
Well, that quaint idea was totally wrong.
It's like a low stress Halloween. There's no worrying about your costume, because everybody wears one of three things- all black, all white, or all skeleton. No costume? No Problem- grab a tambourine.
We waited for the Aztec drummers to kick the party into gear, then jumped in the parade. Guinness should be there to record the most people spontaneously doing the Thriller Dance. This must be what the Castro was like fifteen years ago. Sure, there were people drinking and, um, doing other stuff, but there were parents with baby strollers, white haired men with drums, children in costumes, and the requisite half (or more) naked people. I've never had so much fun taking three hours to walk around the block.
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