Showing posts with label lawyers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lawyers. Show all posts

Friday, January 29, 2016

Dirk Destroyer Part 18 Chapter 9 Part 2 and Chapter Non-Ten

The Fellowship of the Bring is surrounded by sheep which they can’t move out of the way because of the 35th Really Good Idea.
“We have more problems,” said Lip Ton Tease, returning from his shower entirely dry if not sweet smelling. “The sheep upstream are urinating in the water.”
“This is all your fault heretic!”
“No, Uriculous” I said, “It’s yours.”
“Look,” said Lustavious. “I’m the Light Bringer which means I can arbitrate fairly. It’s that bird’s fault. Let’s kill it.”
“Catch me,” said Swampy taking flight and showing a remarkable bowel capacity by the number of passes he was able to make crapping on Lustavious. Lustavious thrust his finger into the air above his head, his index finger impressively alight. Swampy farted into the light and singed a few of Lustavious’ upper locks.
“This pitter patter won’t swoosh us from bah-bahs,” said Ono.
“I can’t sunbeam travel without a pristine shower,” said Tease.
Everybody looked at me.
“Look,” I said, “we could just push the sheep aside.”
“Sacrilege!” bellowed Akwar, who I thought had left.
“I’m already condemned,” I said. “I could do it.”
“Never!” harangued Akwar, who only harangued because she had already bellowed earlier, and she needed to break it up a bit.
“Find another way, Destroyer,” said Jonma Claim.
“I don’t know,” I said. “We could try to make a tunnel.”
“I can dig,” said Jonma Carry who had been silent and immobile since the night before. “I’m very good at throwing dirt.”
It wasn’t a boast. Jonma Carry was very good at throwing dirt. The only problem was that the dirt seemed to land on people – especially Jonma Claim, who spluttered and spasmed, and looked around furiously for a third appropriate reaction beyond spluttering and spasming.
“You could try snorting,” said Mage-e-not, who then disappeared from the collar up after receiving a particularly disdainful glare.
“Glaring is good,” I offered. I didn’t get a sputter, spasm, glare or snort for my suggestion. He saved his big ammo – his look of derision, for me.
Two people stayed clean throughout the astonishing excavation. Lip Ton Tease moved with dizzying speed, avoiding not only clumps, but even specks of dirt as they flew from the tunnel. At one point, he took out a fan, and by gently manipulating the wind currents, created a clean hole in our increasingly muddy atmosphere, in which he stood with serenity, and just a bit of monkish smugness.
Ono also stayed clean, entirely due to the efforts of Swampy, who showed a remarkable athleticism smashing dirt clumps with his wings, and redirecting them to Lustavious.
Akwar appeared one more time, received an impressively muddy deluge, and disappeared. After that, I didn’t mind so much getting dirty. I think Mage-e-not felt the same.
Jonma Carry dug deep into the earth, pausing only occasionally to ask us to call him Jon. A tunnel five paces wide and hundreds of paces deep formed, slanting down into the earth and under the surrounding sheep army.
I went out to observe our besiegers. Just as Tease had said, they stood in ranks, surrounding our little wood. Each beast stared in our direction, not a single one of them flinched or shifted.
I had to agree with Lustavious. It was very unsheep-like.
“Destroyer!” shouted Jonma Claim. “We are leaving.”
“Is Jon all the way through?” I asked.
“No, but he has encountered someone we must speak to. We will all stay together.”
Encountered someone? “Coming,” I said.


Chapter Non-Ten
The Nature of Satire

Headley here. I know it’s bad form to interrupt the flow of the story, but I just want to make certain that you all remember that this book is satire. That means I can make fun of ANYONE – even Barry Manilow if I want (but who would dare?) and lawyers can’t touch me.
Lawyers can’t touch me.
Lawyers can’t touch me.
Lawyers can’t touch me.
Lawyers can’t touch me.
I learned this trick from politicians. It’s called the BIG LIE. If you want to tell a fib, no repetition is necessary. If you want to tell something that is patently unjust or untrue, say it over and over again, and presto… it’s true!
And we wonder why people don’t trust politicians.
Why aren’t these BIG LIES exposed? Refer to the The Use of Satire by Headley Hauser. Go to Chapter 13, The BIG LIE subsection NM (for News Media.)
Lawyers can’t touch me. (Times infinity plus infinity times infinity to the power of infinity plus thirty-seven.) (As in thirty-seven really good ideas.)

So now that the spasm of disclaimer is over we can discover who Jonma Carry, who prefers to be called Jon, discovered in a big hole in the ground. But of course, we’ll have to wait till next Friday.



Scary.

Monday, March 16, 2015

The Money Mountain



Mary was a hard working farmer in the land of Monet. She raised carrots, and turnips, and lettuce, and squash. She had apple trees, and peach trees, and cherry trees too. In the same small town were Larry the carpenter, Shari the mechanic, Perry the artist, Kari the seamstress, Jerry the mechanic, and George the printer.

It was a friendly town, but they had one problem. Mary needed Larry to fix her barn, but Larry didn’t need carrots, or turnips, or lettuce, or squash. He didn’t need apples, or peaches, or cherries either. Larry needed his truck fixed and Mary didn’t know how to do that.

It got confusing giving apples to Perry, who painted a picture for Kari, who made shirts for Jerry, who fixed a truck for Larry, so that Larry would fix Mary’s barn.

That’s when Bonnie banker moved to town.

You see,” said Bonnie, “all these problems will go away if you just use money.”

Money?”

That’s right,” said Bonnie Banker. “With money, you can pay for goods and services instead of trying to trade.”

Where do we get this money.”

I will provide it,” said Bonnie Banker.

So all agreed. It was easier to trade money than goods and services, and George the printer was especially happy, because Bonnie Banker paid him to print the money, even though she paid him with some of the money he just printed.

Now Mary, and Larry, and Jerry, and Kari, and Perry, and George had to work just a little bit harder because Bonnie the Banker didn’t produce a useful good or service. She just provided money.

That was all right; money solved problems.

But they still had problems. They disagreed about how much money each good or service should be worth.

That’s when Donny the Judge moved to town.

You see,” said Donny, “all these problems will go away if you just have a civil court.”

A civil court?”

That’s right,” said Donny Judge, “with a civil court, a unbiased person will decide a fair settlement for each dispute.”

Where do we get this civil court?”

I will provide it,” said Donny Judge.

So all agreed. They let Donny Judge decide things, instead of wasting time arguing about how much money each good or service was worth. George the printer was happy because Donny Judge hired him to print lots of impressing sounding legal pronouncements.

Now Mary, and Larry, and Jerry, and Kari, and Perry, and George had to work a little bit harder because Bonnie the Banker and Donny the Judge didn’t produce useful goods or services. They just produced money and judgement.

That was all right; money and judgement solved problems.

But there were still problems. People had no idea what Donny Judge would decide before they went to civil court.

That’s when Ronny Politician moved to town.

What you need,” said Ronny, “is a set of laws.”

Set of laws?”

That’s right,” said Ronny Politician, “with a set of laws you will know in advance how Donny Judge will decide his cases, because his guidelines will be written down on paper.”

Where will we get this set of laws?”

I will provide it,” said Ronny Politician.

Now, not everyone was sure they needed this set of laws, or another unproductive person in their community, but Ronny Politician produced his set of laws anyway, and George the printer was paid more money that he had printed in his shop, so he could print a set of laws.

Now Mary, and Larry, and Jerry, and Kari, and Perry, and George had to work harder because Bonnie the Banker, Donny Judge, and Ronny Politician didn’t produce useful goods and services. They just produced money, judgement and laws.

That was all right; money, judgement, and laws solved problems.

Didn’t they?

Then Connie the Lawyer moved into town. She didn’t ask permission, she just moved in, and if anyone wanted Donny Judge to give him or her justice, they had to pay money to Connie Lawyer.

So Mary, and Larry, and Jerry, and Kari, and Perry, and George were working very hard because of Bonnie, Donny, Ronny and Connie…

Tawny moved into town. No one really knew what she did, but she demanded that George print more money, so that she could move that money around. A lot of the money ended up with Ronny Politician.

What is it Tawny does?” Mary Farmer asked George the Printer.

I’m not sure what she does,” said George, “but she calls herself a lobbyist.” George couldn’t answer any more questions, because he was very busy printing laws, and legal pronouncements, and bank statements, and petitions, and money – lots and lots of money. Money was pouring out of the back of George’s print shop, and getting swept up by Bonnie, Donny, Ronny, Connie, and Tawny.

It was just as well that George couldn’t answer, because Mary had to get to work. She saw Perry on the way outside George’s print shop. He looked sad.

What’s wrong, Perry?”

George won’t print my pictures and poems and stories and photos.”

Why not?”

Because I don’t have enough money to pay him to do it,” said Perry, “and besides, George is too busy printing money.”

That’s when Mary noticed that even though there was lots of money getting printed, she didn’t have very much of it. Neither did Perry, Kari, Larry, or Jerry.

Mary almost didn’t notice when Lonny the investment broker moved into town. The reason Mary almost didn’t notice was because he only spent time with people with money. The people with money were Bonnie, Ronny, Connie, Donny, and Tawny.

Ronny, Connie, Bonnie, Donny, Tawny, and Lonny hired Larry to build them big homes that they stuffed with money, but they didn’t give him very much for his work.

Ronny, Connie, Bonnie, Donny, Tawny, and Lonny hired Jerry to fix their big cars that cost lots of money, but they didn’t give Jerry very much for his work.

Ronny, Connie, Bonnie, Donny, Tawny, and Lonny hired Perry to fill their homes with art. They sold the art back and forth to each other for lots of money, but they never paid Perry very much for his work.

Ronny, Connie, Bonnie, Donny, Tawny, and Lonny hired Kari to make them wonderful clothes.  They called the clothes, high fashion, and valued them for lots of money, but they never paid Keri much for her work.

Ronny, Connie, Bonnie, Donny, Tawny, and Lonny bought lots of food from Mary. They bought far more than they could ever eat, and called it gourmet, which meant it was worth lots of money. But they never paid Mary very much for it.

How did this happen to us?” asked Jerry.

They don’t produce anything,” said Keri.

They don’t help us,” said Perry.

But they couldn’t live without us,” said Larry.

I don’t understand it either,” said Mary, “but I don’t like it.”

I don’t like it either!” said Jerry, and Keri, and Perry, and Larry, all at once.

It’s all because we needed something to exchange for goods and services,” said Mary. “If we went to George and had him print a different money – money that we control, then they would all go away.”

YES!” said Jerry, Keri, Perry, and Larry.

And so, together, they went to George’s print shop, but it wasn’t like they remembered it. There were hundreds of people swarming all around it. They were clerks, accountants, tax preparers, and collectors. There were comptrollers, and auditors, underwriters, and risk analysts. There were investigators and regulators, financial advisors, and retirement specialists. They were all so busy doing things that looked important, but as far as Mary, Jerry, Keri, Perry, and Larry could see, they were things that didn’t help anyone.

They moved money; they inspected money; they counted money; the argued about money. They shouted, laughed, cried, and drooled over money. The town was buried under a great mountain of money spewing from George’s print shop, and no matter how much money poured out, all these busy people kept shouting, “print more money!”

Mary, Jerry, Keri, Perry and Larry went into the print shop. There was George, drenched in sweat, feverishly printing money as fast as he could.

George!” shouted Mary. “You need to stop! You’ll have a heart attack if you keep working so hard.”

I know,” said George, “but they want more money. I have to print more money.”

More money!” shouted the people outside. It sounded like there were twice as many people as there were when Mary, Jerry, Keri, Perry and Larry first came in.

But George,” said Mary. “These people aren’t helping anyone. They don’t make food, or fix cars. They don’t make clothes, or build houses. They don’t create art, or even print. If you stop printing money, they will all go away, and leave us in peace.”

But then what will we do?” asked George as he shoveled great piles of money out his back door. “We’ll be back to trading like we were before.”

More money!” shouted the people outside. The shout was so loud that the rafters shook in George’s print shop.

No we won’t,” said Mary. “We can print our own money, a very small amount of money, just for us – just for people that do useful things.”

More money!” shouted the people outside and the floors trembled in George’s print shop.

George stopped printing. He looked at Mary, Keri, Perry, Larry, and Jerry. “You’re my friends,” said George. “What you say is a good idea.”

Yes!” said Mary, Keri, Jerry, Larry, and Perry.

But I can’t do it,” said George.

Why not?”

And George pointed to a very small pile of money. It was so small that it was hard to see in his print shop full of money. It was a really tiny pile of money, but it was different than all the other money in the print shop, because on this tiny pile of money, was a little label that read, ‘George’s money.’

You see,” said George. “If I do what you say…


My money will be worthless.”



Here's a documentary.  Okay, it's not funny, but it's on subject.

Thursday, March 5, 2015

Trial by Trade by S. McFarland

Stanley offered me this essay.  It actually made me chuckle a little which I really don’t expect from Stanley.  The least I could do is pass it along.


Trial by Trade

                             by Stanley McFarland

My sister’s a lawyer.  (We love her anyway.)  She likes lawyer jokes.  She doesn’t practice law.  (You don’t need practice when you get things right the first time.)  She helps undergraduates get into law school, writes stories, and helps the one’s she loves do things they could never accomplish without her.
She doesn’t like to bring it up, but I’m pretty sure that the reason she doesn’t practice the profession she worked so hard to attain, is that she doesn’t like the smell.

Centuries ago when you had a problem, the guy with the biggest army or the best sword or the biggest club would sit in judgment and settle it.  If your problem was with the guy with the biggest club, you kept your mouth shut or suffered the consequences.
Some people believe that law came about as a natural progression in the cultural advancement of humankind.  What really happened is that the guy with the biggest club decided he’d rather go out and kill animals than sit around and hear everyone else’s problems.  The judge was an invention of convenience for everyone involved (except the animals).
 Potentially, judges cared more about the dispute than making animals bleed.  Some only cared about how much each party was willing to pay him but many prided themselves on being fair.  Each party would approach the judge, give the best possible spin on their side of the dispute and await the ruling.  When the ruling just about equally pissed off both parties, they called it – just – for short.
Everything went along swimmingly until Fred the goldsmith had a dispute with Ralph the actor.
Now Fred figured he was in the right or at least no more in the wrong than that parasite line reader but Fred had a problem.  Fred stuttered pretty badly and had a high pitched wheeze from inhaling too much gold dust.  There were people in town that held up their own hankies when Fred sneezed just to capture any gold mixed with the spew.
Fred was sitting in a saloon lamenting his chances and was overheard by Juris who, like Ralph, was an actor.
Juris offered to speak for Fred if Fred would construct an object of gold to hide his nasty overbite.  Fred knew that actors lied and as Juris was a well-known actor – he lied well but prudently.  Fred could see some real advantage in this but only if Fred could be sure that Juris would lie for Fred’s benefit.  Fred demanded that Juris swear an oath by whatever Juris held most dear.  Juris was not a religious man so he swore by the very place they were sitting, his favorite saloon.  
Fred, satisfied that Juris would hold to standards of his bar, delivered the golden retainer, and Juris became known as Fred’s mouthpiece.
Today, we live in a land where most of the people who make the laws, prosecute the laws, judge the laws, appoint the judges of the laws, defend people in trouble with the laws, and profit from the laws: hang out in the same bar. 
 I find it particularly ironic when members of this association put people on trial for what they call “conflict of interest.”

Which ones fit lawyers...?
If Fred and Ralph had a dispute today, the actor would have no advantage.  No amount of stage eloquence or even common sense will help if you don’t go to that bar and speak the guild language of “legalese.”  Both Ralph and Fred would need to hire members of the mouthpiece cartel to seek what should be theirs.  The winner, after legal fees, would be left with a snow cone drained of syrup-
Or...  Just-Ice.

Someday maybe all of us can join this bar and enjoy all the rights and benefits of full citizenship.  Until then, I’m looking for a big club.


My sister told me most of these.

Monday, February 3, 2014

Me and THE LAW Part Two


I’ve been summoned – for jury duty.
Shudder.
Back in the Middle Ages, the Church ran a lot of the courts. If you were found questioning the church’s stance on how many angels could dance on the head of a pin, you might be liable to imprisonment, fines, torture, or that old favorite, burning at the stake. The problem was – it wasn’t just the angels and pin question – there were countless grievous misthoughts that could put you on the road to smoked jerky, and the only people who knew what all those misthoughts were- were the abbots and bishops that charged, prosecuted, judged and sentenced you.
like that evil heretic, Galileo
No matter how innocent you tried to be – the church could get you on something.
Then a bunch of folks thought – “hey! why not punish only the people who hurt other people, or take/destroy other people’s stuff?” It was such a great idea that a lot of people became teriyaki sticks just for bringing it up. Some of these folks avoided being bar-b-que long enough to write these ideas up in our Constitution, but unfortunately jerks who wanted to own other people screwed with it and the lawmakers and the judges got to it before it finally caught on.
Just imagine how we might have rejoiced – law books would be in Reader’s Digest condensed form, and words like freedom, liberty and justice might mean something.
With a government like that, lawyers wouldn’t get enough work, and seeing as how lawyers make the laws, judge the laws, enforce the laws, prosecute the laws, and even defend people against those laws – pretty much anything lawyers want – lawyers get.
So if you blow your nose while watering your tulips on a Wednesday without a permit, you better hope there’s no law against it because with City, County, State and Federal law codes are racing against reality TV for the most inane and useless verbiage, there are laws against almost everything.
Such as that farmer in the Midwest that got arrested for stocking fish in a fish pond on his farm. Or the guy that lost everything because he made silver coin that he called Bicky Bucks. How about the 56 yo woman who was thrown to the floor and handcuffed for not allowing airport security to handle her breasts?
So with so many laws, everybody has to have broken a few hundred without even knowing it. That means we ALL are criminals. Any abbot or bishop, (I mean lawmaker or judge) that doesn’t like our lifestyles, philosophy, religion, politics, or the way we look can just point us out to one of the hundreds of thousands of badge and gun carrying civil servants, (the Federal Department of Education has a SWAT team, you know,) and they can detain us indefinitely. Faster than you can say - suspend habeas corpus, we’ll be sitting in detention wondering what we did wrong, and what exactly they are bar-b-queing out on the lawn.
Supposedly a jury can strike down stupid or abusive laws with something called jury nullification. But you don’t hear much about that. Maybe that’s why we don’t study civics in school any more. The abbots and bishops of modern politics don’t want to lose their power.

If I get empanelled on a jury, do I dare try to nullify a stupid law? It feels risky. There’s already a law against telling people about their rights to do it.

Too serious - sorry, I'll try to be more stupid next entry -like this video 

Thursday, July 25, 2013

Courting Evil


On two previous occasions I’ve made overtures to two great corporations for sponsorship:  Little Debbie and Starbucks. Surprisingly, nothing has come of either proposal. I’m getting tired of eating post-expiration-date bread from the thrift store. (I suspect they’re lying about that “nutrient-rich spinach coating.”) It’s time to make another try.

Yes, I know that I’ve had my issues with Disney, but I just want to let them know that I’m the kind of guy that can get past old disagreements and gain new perspective – you know… be bought.

To show the kind of work I’m prepared to do on their behalf, I’ve written new lyrics to one of the most hated tunes of all time, It’s a Small World After All.

Here’s the tune. I dare you to put it on continuous loop for an hour and not go pee in your neighbor’s coy pond or some other act of suburban terrorism. To spice up the chorus (which is only 6 words – 7 if you count a contraction as 2,) I’ve put in words to be sung subliminally beneath the line, After All. My version is a little more syncopated on the 2nd, 4th, and 6th lines of the verses as well. I mean, c’mon! I can’t leave it like it is.



It’s a Mouse World After All

lyrics by Headley Hauser

music by A. Vicious Sadist



Sure you know Snow White

And the crick-et-that-can-sing

Ariel in shells

Bambi and the-Li-on-King

Just a wish on a star?

No, we-own-much-more-by-far

It’s a mouse world after all



It’s a mouse world

After all (Disney over all)

It’s a mouse world

After all (This globe is just our ball)

It’s a mouse world

After all (To approach us you must crawl)

It’s our own mouse world

 

Eleven theme parks

A-long-with-for-ty-three-re-sorts

Stores in every mall

You look great-in-Don-ald’s-shorts

Disney Cruz on the waves (Snap!)

(Avast ye) Move-those-oars-you-slaves!

It’s a mouse world after all



It’s a mouse world

After all (Goofy sure is tall)

It’s a mouse world

After all (Buy him at the mall)

It’s a mouse world

After all (Check out our princess wall)

It’s our own mouse world

 

E- -S-P-N

Disney Channel, A&E

Disney Med-i-a

Not to-men-tion ABC

Fine-art as well it seems

Put a mouse on Munch's Scream

It’s a mouse world after all



It’s a mouse world

After all (Zippity-do-da-dall)

It’s a mouse world

After all (In black Southern Drawl)

It’s a mouse world

After all (It’s not racist, Y’all)

It’s our own mouse world



Disney Publishing

And yes we own Marvel

Hyper-i-on

Just a start, but ain’t it swell

On Broadway and on Ice

Hey, you better say it’s nice

(‘Cause) it’s a mouse world after all



It’s a mouse world

After All (We will make the call)

It’s a mouse world

After All (Fight us? – you will fall)

It’s a mouse world

After All (Don’t you love our gall?)

It’s our own mouse world



We enslaved Pixar

‘Cause all we write is crap

Absorbed P. Domain

All across the map

Don’t you dare infringe our rights

Yes! Our lawyers love those fights

It’s our mouse world OVER all.

WWWD