Welcome Back, Utah

It took nearly a month away from the law school to almost make me forget how much I hated law students. Reality came crashing back today as I awoke in the morning to attend class. My first class, Biz Orgs, seems like it will actually be an informative and practical course. Of course anything involving business attracts your garden variety douchebag who can't wait to volunteer his personal experiences and the fantastic opportunities awaiting him outside of law school. Those douchebags were out in full force today.

I also encountered a new breed of douche: the social worker. We began a discussion in family law, which centered on the meaning of family. Apparently the school of social work encourages students to take this course at the law school and they mixed with the other wishy-washy crowd comprising the public interest sector to form a perfect storm of idealistic idiocy. The conversation took a turn when an obviously hostile social work student (with about ten pounds of metal pierced to her face) declared that she may not be a law student, but she knows just as much about the constitution, and it is ILLEGAL to legislate anything relating to morality. The premise of her argument was that everyone who "loved" should be entitled to full marital and child visitation privileges. This would eliminate the "horrible experience of divorce" and allow "peace to prevail in a culture of love."

I thought I'd start off jokingly by throwing out some absurd examples; i.e. babysitters with formal visitation rights, ex girlfriends demanding portions of an intestate estate, roommates getting marital tax credits, etc. And she agreed with me. I then had to make it clear that I was kidding and her ideas were idiotic. The professor stopped the conversation at that point. However, later I mentioned that perhaps we should call up the legislature to redact the homicide laws since they were clearly based on morality.

In other news, people seem to be walking alot slower these days around the law school. I'm walking around on a freaking broken foot and I'm pushing my way around the lollygaggers left and right: Get with the program, people! In addition, the maintenance staff chose an excellent time to drill a giant hole in the stairwell ceiling and leave about a foot of passage in the landing. I have a feeling that without the iron fist of Cliff Thompson, this whole place is going to go off the deep end.