Bad Glacier

My swirly elephant pal arrived Thursday from Moral Clay. Here he is, preparing to rock out (yeah, I’m showing off my guitar stuff, too. I can’t help it sometimes):

Hello, Cleveland!

Thanks to Moral Turpitude for getting my new buddy to me safe and sound.

Book 32: The Rehnquist Choice, by John Dean
Thank you to J for recommending this one. Very interesting, considering the nomination process we’re now going through.

Book 33: Free Culture, by Lawrence Lessig

Book 34: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, by J. K. Rowling

Book 35: When the Elephants Dance, by Tess Uriza Holthe

As a follow-up to yesterday’s post, here are some helpful grammar tips:

• Split infinitives like the plague.
• Dangling cliches are something up with which I will not put.
• Don’t verb the singular form of data.
• The number of the subject determines the number of apostrophes in the plural form of the next noun.
• I before e, except after lunch.
• Omit needless words. Important, you the.
• “Pinball Wizard” was written by whom? No, The Who.
• Note the difference between “affect” and “effect.” You can affect an outcome, but your attempts to do so may cause a tidal wave in China to make a butterfly flap its wings, thus creating another tidal wave, setting into motion an infinite loop leading to the destruction of every coastal city on Earth. This is an effect.
• Use a dash to attack the level boss when he raises his arms, exposing the weak point in his armor.
• Semicolons are less harmful than alcohol and have therapeutic uses as a pain reliever and an appetite stimulant for people with serious diseases, such as those undergoing chemotherapy.
• The possessive form of Jesus is Jesus’. The plural of Jesus is Jesii.
• I never learned what a gerund is. That fact shames me to this day.
• Conjunction junction has become obsolete since the advent of the interstate highway system.
• The subject may agree with the verb, but this family is not a democracy and when they live under your roof, they must follow your rules.
• The use of “chicken-head” is not yet accepted as proper English. Until it is, use “ho” or “shawty” instead.

It’s that time of year again. Pre-law kids are starting to think about their applications, and I’ve been getting more traffic from Google searches for law school admissions info. This is a post for the soon-to-be 0Ls.

Dear pre-law peoples:

Either you’ve already taken the LSAT or you will be soon (here’s my advice on that), and at this point, you can’t really do much to affect your GPA. It’s true (though unfortunate) that these are the most important parts of your application. But they give the admissions committee no view of you as a person. Even your recommendations will focus more on your academic or professional accomplishments. Few schools give interviews to applicants. Most likely, your personal statement will be the only chance you have to personalize your application and differentiate yourself from all the other students. You need to give the admissions committee a reason to pick you instead of other students with similar or better numbers, and a well-written personal statement is, in most cases, your only real chance to do so.

So, for your browsing pleasure, here is some advice I wish I had read when I was working on my personal statement.

Before starting to write:

Figure out what you want your essay to say about you. Why should this school admit you instead of someone else with the same numbers? Don’t repeat information from the rest of your application. Use this space to tell the reader something new. Remember, you only get a couple pages, so come up with a simple theme and stick to it:

• I have a good reason for applying to law school. No, really, I do. (But check out the comments for some dissenting views and further explanation.)
• I’ve overcome considerable difficulties in my life. Because of this, I have become a strong, complex, interesting person.
• There’s a reason for my low LSAT/GPA numbers. Look, here’s some proof that this was a poor measure of my ability. (This was a bad example. Using this theme takes away your chance to show your personality and it’s very hard (impossible?) to avoid sounding like a whiner. Ignore me here.)
• Even though I’m a Computer Science major, I’m not a completely inept writer. No, really. I write good. Scout’s honor.

I didn’t follow this advice very well. I tried to cover too much, wasn’t able to give any of the the space it deserved, and my essay suffered because of it. Remember to do more than just tell the reader about yourself. Show them.

Figure out the tone of your essay. Write down positive adjectives describing it. Now think of some negative adjectives that could describe your essay if you don’t write it well. This makes it easy to keep your objectives in mind while you’re writing and editing. This isn’t hard. Look:

• “dramatic, heart-rending, emotional”, but not “melodramatic, cheesy, fake”
• “funny, intelligent, witty”, but not “offensive, self-congratulatory, pretentious”

After writing the first draft, look over it quickly, cleaning things up as you go. Then put the essay away for a while–at least a day or two. Don’t work on it. Don’t look at it. Then, come back to the essay. Read it like it’s someone else’s paper, and mark which parts work, which need tweaking, and which don’t work at all. The time away from it will give you some distance and make it easier to see what is good and what really isn’t. Keep your theme and tone in mind. Note which objectives need more support in the essay and cut out parts that don’t fit. Be harsh.

Now, work on these problems. Fix them. Polish the writing, make sure grammar is correct. Check spelling. Double-check spelling. Rework the essay again. Give it to someone (or multiple someones) who can be brutally honest with you. Do they think it fits your objectives? If not, keep reworking it.

Eventually, you’ll either run out of time, give up, or come up with something you’re happy with. Send it out with your applications and never look at it again. This last part is very important. Once you’ve sent in your application, your part in the process is over. Go do something fun. Relax. You deserve it.

Note on Yale’s 250-word essay: Um… Good luck. Mine was awful. I didn’t get in. I really have no tips for you here. Sorry.

My response to CM’s comment on yesterday’s post hit close to home, so I’ve been going through my archives and removing the extraneous curse words from old posts. (No, I don’t have a life, but thanks for asking.) From now on, I’ll try harder before I resort to using bad language to make something humorous.

Let’s say it’s a limit meant to expand my ability to express myself in writing. Then I can have a reason to feel good about not saying $*#! on my blog.

Huh. I would have expected… I don’t know, something different. More vulgar, I guess. Zero percent? That’s not right. (from Stag and Magic Cookie)

the Wit (65% dark, 30% spontaneous, 5% vulgar)

your humor style: CLEAN | COMPLEX | DARK You like things edgy, subtle, and smart. I guess that means you’re probably an intellectual, but don’t take that to mean you’re pretentious. You realize ‘dumb’ can be witty–after all isn’t that ‘the Simpsons’ philosophy?–but rudeness for its own sake, ‘gross-out’ humor and most other things found in a fraternity leave you totally flat. I guess you just have a more cerebral approach than most. You have the perfect mindset for a joke writer or staff writer. Your sense of humor takes the most effort to appreciate, but it’s also the best, in my opinion. Also, you probably loved the Office. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, check it out here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/theoffice/. PEOPLE LIKE YOU: Jon Stewart - Woody Allen - Ricky Gervais

My test tracked 3 variables. How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 81% on dark You scored higher than 9% on spontaneous You scored higher than 0% on vulgar

A friend and I decided yesterday that all the world’s funny people should be immediately placed in advisory roles–that is, each non-funny person would be required to consult someone funny before making a decision.

Think about it–if all decisions required a funny person’s approval, the world would be great. We wouldn’t have wars, because bombs aren’t funny. Instead, we would settle disagreements by bouncing around in inflatable sumo suits. There would be no Joey, no According to Jim, no Dharma and Greg. Family Guy never would have been canceled in the first place.

Also, this post would be a whole lot better.

Awesome. My 5-year high school reunion will be held in the top floor of a bar. Not one of those nice bars, either. This is one of those bars that’s half top-40, half country music, where the Busch Light flows and the mullets roam freely.

Plus, the class officers have arranged for appetizers and happy hour prices at our special party. At least I get more than stale popcorn and a great view for my $15. That is, if I were going. Which I’m not, mostly because I’ll be in Boston at the time, but I’m glad I don’t have to make the decision. I like a lot of the people I went to high school with, but I don’t know if I like them that much.

Reading blogs has become a harrowing experience since the new Harry Potter book came out. I’m terrified that someone is going to spoil it for me before I can read it. What if some blogger forgets to hide the sensitive information or it somehow shows up in the RSS feed? I can’t trust anyone–not even myself. When I recognize a post as being about Harry Potter, I have to jerk my head away and close the browser to ensure that my treacherous eyes don’t read anything they shouldn’t.

Seriously, I’m on edge here. I really have to read that book soon.

So what’s up with the dislike for embalming and burial, huh?

I mean, I don’t want to be buried either (I’d prefer cremation after donating my organs and/or body to science and/or people), but I just thought I was the weird one.

I’ve read these books, but I don’t really feel like writing about them. I’ll count them anyways. Take that, 50 Book Challenge!

Book 20: The Da Vinci Code, by Dan Brown

Book 21: Getting to Yes, by Roger Fisher and William Ury
Book 22: Getting Past No, by William Ury

Book 23: Clan of the Cave Bear, by Jean Auel

Book 24: Diary, by Chuck Palahniuk
Not as good as Fight Club or Choke, but better than Lullaby. Creepier than I expected.

Book 25: Blink, by Malcolm Gladwell
Book 26: The Tipping Point, by Malcolm Gladwell

Book 27: The Two-Income Trap, by Elizabeth Warren and Amelia Warren Tyagi

Book 28: The Crying of Lot 49, by Thomas Pynchon
Look, I finished a Pynchon book! It only had 150 pages, but I finished it! Woo-hoo!

Book 29: The Golden Compass, by Philip Pullman
Book 30: The Subtle Knife, by Philip Pullman
Book 31: The Amber Spyglass, by Philip Pullman
Okay, I’ll write about these three. But only to say that Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials Trilogy is an awesome series aimed at the young adult set. They are well written and enjoyable to read. There’s some anti-organized-religion stuff in there, but you can handle it.

My thoughts on (ano|pseudo|google)nymity, partially inspired by CM’s post:

In the style of Neo Tokyo Times, this here blog is Googlenonymous. I keep my full name off the internets, but I don’t really make much of an effort to conceal my identity, either. Anyone who went to Harvard’s April 10-11 admitted students day should have no trouble figuring out who I am (if they happen to care enough to read through the archives, I mean), and I expect the same will be true of all my classmates soon enough. I’m not terribly worried about this. Readers might learn how much of a nerd I am, but that’s okay. They’d figure it out after a few minutes of conversation, anyways. I don’t want or expect to be anonymous, so if you think you know who I am, say something. Or e-mail me and ask. Or whatever.

I haven’t yet figured out how I’m going to handle blogging about law school. Things could get mighty boring if I avoid all mention of the people and things that make law school interesting, but I don’t want to invade anyone’s privacy. I’m not sure how secretive to be. Even if I don’t come right out and say which section I’m in, which professors I have, or which groups I join, it’ll become obvious soon enough. But if I don’t provide enough details, non-HLS readers won’t know what’s going on. There’s a line I will have to walk, and I don’t know where exactly it is right now.

So here’s the deal: I won’t post anything that I wouldn’t say to someone’s face, I’ll avoid real names where it’s appropriate, and I won’t pass on the rumors about who’s sniffing what off of which stripper’s body part. In return, dear reader, I ask that you don’t take anything on here too seriously, and to let me know if you think I’ve crossed the line.

I claim to have started this site as a way to keep in contact with my friends and practice my writing skills as I prepared for and entered law school. That turned out to be a lie, of course. I only ended up telling two friends about the site and I don’t write posts that require any special effort to put together. Without those reasons, I’m not sure there’s a justification for Bad Glacier’s existence. Why people would want to hear my thoughts, I don’t know, but that hasn’t stopped me from sending them out over the internets anyways. Basically, this site has become nothing more than a way to keep myself amused (it doesn’t take much) and a way to discover more interesting blogs than I can possibly keep track of–though I’m making a valiant effort.

The name Bad Glacier comes from the first chapter of Kurt Vonnegut’s book, Slaughterhouse-Five, where Harrison Starr, after hearing that Vonnegut is writing an anti-war book, suggests he write an anti-glacier book instead. This seemed appropriate for my site, which I anticipate becoming an extended rant on law school and other things not within my power to change. I am not the Bad Glacier here. I expect to be the one shaking my fist at the glacier as it slowly flows past, crushing my soul, carving out lakes and valleys, starting a new ice age, and generally letting the metaphor go too far.

I plan on maintaining this blog through law school and promptly neglecting it as soon as I get a job and can afford a real hobby. Until then, thanks for reading.

It has recently come to my attention that I have a blog-twin. Just look–the evidence is overwhelming:

• We’re both 22, left-handed, and heading to HLS in the fall.
• We’re both blogging about it.
• We both like reading Kurt Vonnegut.
• We were both in a fraternity (not the same one, though).
• I read the Calvin and Hobbes 10th Anniversary Book on my recent vacation. T also read it recently.
• We both enjoyed the Unfogged law freestyles enough to post about it.
• Strong Bad.

See? It is obvious that we were separated at birth, and either I was immediately teleported to a hospital in Virginia or T moved to California sometime early in life. Oh, sure, it’s possible that this is just coincidence, but baby-teleportation is certainly a simpler explanation than the complex web of occurrences that would have been required to create another person my age with a similarly twisted sense of humor and greater dexterity with his left hand.

Occam’s Razor!

As you all know, there is always a good twin and an evil twin. We have agreed to settle this matter using Giant Battle Monsters. T threw down earlier today by summoning T Sinister, a giant, color-changing lizard with a ray gun and impressive stats (Strength: 12, Agility: 6, Intelligence: 4). In defense, I call forth Josh, a Giant Mecha-Dragon that can Fly, is Extremely Hydrophobic and Covered in Bumps and Nodules, and picks up Cars and Throws Them. He has 9 Strength, 12 Agility, and 8 Intelligence.

As you can see, T wins on strength, but is defeated by my bumpy mecha-dragon’s agility and intelligence. Burnination!

Unfortunately, I don’t know what this means. Did the powers of good conquer over evil, or does the evil twin rule the day, leaving the good twin self-righteous asshole to recover from his wounds in a musty cave, then to build up his skills in a training montage, ultimately leading to a rematch with his dastardly sibling?

I certainly don’t know.

I was gone, but now I’m back. It was a nice trip, but after sleeping on the floor for the last five days, coming home to my bed last night was indescribably nice.

But things happened while I was gone. Bad things, mostly. This sucks.

Badness in London: I don’t really know what to say. Terrible.

“Rock you like a hurricane”: Cuba, Haiti, and now Florida get hit. Dammit.

O’Connor retires. Rehnquist doesn’t. But he’s going to. But he still doesn’t. But maybe he did and it hasn’t been announced yet. But maybe he won’t. But then again…

Party at my place: I get a link from Neo Tokyo Times, who gets a link from JD2B. Wow. (Thanks, Tokyo and Marshall. And thanks to everyone who visited, even though you trashed the place.)

Hey kids, I’m ba–

What did you do to this place? The carpet is ruined! There’s a hole in the wall! And what happened to Grandma? Her urn was sitting on the mantel when I left, and now it’s gone!

What, did you think I just wouldn’t notice the trash bags full of cans and bottles? The broken mirror? The half-naked boy passed out in the closet?

I’m very disappointed in you kids. Go to your rooms until I can figure out a proper punishment.

And what is that smell?

As of today, I’m on vacation. I’ll be gone for a week, and I probably won’t be posting. I’m trusting you kids to be responsible while I’m gone. Do your homework, take care of the animals, and no parties. Call Mrs. Peterson down the street if you need anything. Emergency numbers are on the fridge, and food money for the week is on the dresser. We’ll call every day. Love you!

And no parties while I’m gone.

I got bored yesterday, so I trawled Google for “Jeebus.” It’s not really surprising that there is a “What Would Jeebus Do?” shirt and a huge statue, but I was unable to find a Jeebus fish for sale on any of the internets. There’s an untapped market for someone who’s not as lazy as I am.

Also, did you know that the Northern Community Church of Christ has a “Jeebus Congregation“?

No, of course you didn’t. That’s why you love me.

Penguins With Chlamydia.