Saturday, March 18, 2006
A Journey Into the Past
I have begun going through the thousands of unnecessary objects I have saved throughout my three years in my current apartment in preparation for my move. It's a fairly hilarious process, and not just because I can't believe I somehow kept a book of terrible poetry written by my neighbor and a Steak N Shake hat. No, it's also funny because I get little glimpses of the very weird and apparently very prolific person I have been.
For instance, I found a copy of the closing argument I wrote for a mock trial in law school. It was the case of Fordyce v. Felton, a very contentious battery case involving an ex-model-and-heroin-junkie ably portrayed on the stand by one Roommate Liz. Now, most people just kind of throw something together at the last minute for this stuff, realizing that it does, of course, have no real impact of any kind for anyone at all. But I apparently wrote an impassioned three-page corker, urging the jury to ignore the "cloud of deception" presented by the defense and "make Mr. Fordyce in some small part whole again." As I recall, we, lost, although I like to think the case is still pending on fake appeal.
I also found some rather amusing caricatures I drew of my law school classmates, including the girl who talked about horses all the time (pictured riding a stallion with her hair blowing in the wind) and the middle-aged former television newscaster who related every case we read to something that had happened in her own life (pictured with a gavel in one hand and a microphone in the other). I don't care what Jasper Johns says, I had a lot of artistic talent.
I have begun going through the thousands of unnecessary objects I have saved throughout my three years in my current apartment in preparation for my move. It's a fairly hilarious process, and not just because I can't believe I somehow kept a book of terrible poetry written by my neighbor and a Steak N Shake hat. No, it's also funny because I get little glimpses of the very weird and apparently very prolific person I have been.
For instance, I found a copy of the closing argument I wrote for a mock trial in law school. It was the case of Fordyce v. Felton, a very contentious battery case involving an ex-model-and-heroin-junkie ably portrayed on the stand by one Roommate Liz. Now, most people just kind of throw something together at the last minute for this stuff, realizing that it does, of course, have no real impact of any kind for anyone at all. But I apparently wrote an impassioned three-page corker, urging the jury to ignore the "cloud of deception" presented by the defense and "make Mr. Fordyce in some small part whole again." As I recall, we, lost, although I like to think the case is still pending on fake appeal.
I also found some rather amusing caricatures I drew of my law school classmates, including the girl who talked about horses all the time (pictured riding a stallion with her hair blowing in the wind) and the middle-aged former television newscaster who related every case we read to something that had happened in her own life (pictured with a gavel in one hand and a microphone in the other). I don't care what Jasper Johns says, I had a lot of artistic talent.
