What is the math equivalent of a Hallmark Holiday?

Seen on Facebook. Posted there by... I don't know who because Facebook decided it should refresh its page on my screen and send the post from which I had grabbed this photo swirling into the depths of the algorithm. An extensive search has proved fruitless.

My apologies to the original poster, to whom I would surely have given credit if only Facebook had let me.

In the course of my search, though, I did find this Facebook post, which I grabbed from Anna Konya:

There are those who insist that puns are the lowest form of humor. This cartoon, by Grant Snider, from Incidental Comics, is typical:

Puns may not be the most sophisticated form of humor, but to rank them beneath scatalogical humor is just so many road apples.

But to return to the topic, one more post, that I saw on Lynn Dowd's Facebook feed today, attributed to a site called Only Engineers Can Understand:

Enjoy the rest of Pi Day... but beware tomorrow.

Tomorrow... you know... the Ides of March?

The only way I can think of to get my money's worth out of this....

A couple of months ago I paid off my car loan.

(Thank you.)

It will come as no surprise to most of you that the actual amount owed on said car loan at any given time was something of a moving target. The monthly bill contained a specific payoff amount, but only if you paid that amount on one specific day, and probably at one particular hour, whilst standing on one foot whistling a tune to be named later. The makers of the loan were extremely cautious, lest they lose a single penny of accumulating interest.

I'm not complaining, mind you. I needed the car. I needed the loan to get the car. The dealer sold me the car and arranged for me to get the loan from the car manufacturer. When I took the money, I took all that came with it.

But, finally, after what seemed like a very long time (because it was in fact a very long time), my monthly payment and the payoff amount came within shouting distance of each other. I tried my best to calculate, as near as I was able, the exact amount including the last penny of juice that the lender could squeeze from the loan, and added in another $5 besides, and I put that final payment in the mail.

Yes, Millennials and Zoomers, I am fully cognizant of the fact that I could have much more precisely calculated the exact payoff amount if I'd only paid on line.

I do pay most of my bills that way. But this bill I paid by mail. There's more psychic satisfaction, in my opinion, in putting a check like this in the mail than in clicking a couple of buttons on the keyboard. Anyway, that's a collateral point, at best.

My goal was to pay off the loan with this one final negotiable instrument (look, Millennials and Zoomers, you learned about checks in high school consumer ed, even if you have never written one, and you probably got a refresher when you covered the UCC in law school, so stop pretending you don't know what I'm talking about).

I fully understood that the car might yet be re-po'd if I were even a penny short. So I tried to go over the exact amount due. But I also tried to come as close as possible to the exact amount.

And you know what? I succeeded.

When the final check cleared, I was 61¢ ahead.

Pretty good, I thought.

Time went on, and all the required paperwork trickled in confirming that I had actually repaid the loan in full (and 61¢ of then-some), but the overage was not refunded. I did not stress. I did not even care if I got stiffed out of my 61¢ windfall. I was a solo practitioner for the last 20 or so years: I've been stiffed out of lots bigger amounts owed than 61¢. Lots, lots, lots bigger.

I was fine... until I got this:

You are looking at a "prepaid Mastercard" issued by Chrysler Capital, as a part of a program administered by North Lane Technologies, Inc. Pre-loaded, allegedly, with my 61¢. According to the materials to which this card is affixed, if those 61 sweet centavos are not residing physically within the card, they are held at or transferable to Sunrise Banks, N.A.

I've fuzzed out the individually identifying numbers in this picture because I don't want this windfall to fall into the clutches of the Russians. Or the North Koreans.

And, as you can see, all I have to do to tap into this largesse is activate the card and obtain a PIN, either by calling a 1-800 number, visiting the North Lane website (not the bank where the money is waiting), or downloading the North Lane Mobile App.

Because, obviously, one can't be too careful when dealing with these enormous sums.

TikTok seems positively reputable compared to this, doesn't it?

And I haven't even mentioned the $3 monthly fee yet....

Yes, there's a $3 monthly fee that accrues starting in the month following the card's expiration date... you know... if there's anything left on the card after the stated expiration date. Let's see... $3 deducted from a 61¢ balance... I'm a lawyer, so the only math I can do is dividing by three, but I don't think that works very well....

But, OK, assuming that one is willing to sign up for this card -- we'll call it merely registering, of course -- but, either way, necessary, of course, to get the PIN -- allowing all these companies access to one's identifying information, how many places can there be where one can use a debit card with 61¢ on it?

I can just see the happy faces of the cashier and my fellow customers at my local Jewel, were I to pull out this card as the week's groceries are totaled up -- here, let me put the first 61¢ of this on this card right here....

But what really annoys me about this card -- aside from the fact that these 61¢ were brought so tantalizingly close to my grasp, and yet so cruelly kept just beyond -- is that it must have cost a heck of a lot more than 61¢ to deny me that modest sum in this manner.

That, and the obvious fact that someone got paid to come up with this scheme to keep refunds from being paid. Wouldn't it have been a whole lot simpler to just keep the money and not tell anyone? It certainly would have been cheaper to write me a check for the 61¢....

D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals proscribes use of Garamond

Look, I get it: If you had to read briefs for a living, you'd want the parties to use typefaces that were as easy on the eyes as possible. Lord knows, lawyers' prose can be sludgy and kludgy and frequently is; if it at least looks good, however, it might be easier to wade through.

So, non-lawyers, restrain your snickers about persnickety judges in snobby D.C.

Besides, the D.C. Circuit judges are not alone on this. Take a look at pp. 170-177 of the 7th Circuit Practitioner's Handbook for Appeals (excerpt from Ch. XXIII: "You can improve your chances by making your briefs typographically superior"). The Illinois Courts area a bit more laid back---probably the difference between having life tenure and having to face retention elections, even if only once a decade---but Supreme Court Rule 341(a) still specifies that briefs must be double-spaced, in 12 pt. type or larger. Condensed type is verboten, and particular margins are specified.

But the D.C. Court's March 16 announcement is remarkable because the Court has singled out Garamond as a font to be avoided:

Certain typefaces can be easier to read, such as Century and Times New Roman. The Court encourages the use of these typefaces. Briefs that use Garamond as the typeface can be more difficult to read and the use of this typeface is discouraged.

Somebody over there really doesn't like Garamond....

Perils in the wearing of the green for St. Patrick's Day (or red for St. Joseph)

I wear green for St. Patrick's Day, of course. Even if it does bring out the sickly green pallor of my skin.... On Friday I'll wear red for St. Joseph, too. Even if it does bring out the red of my bloodshot eyes. Christmas, when the wearing of red AND green is encouraged, is a nightmare for me and everyone around me....

Order today to ensure delivery by the Ides of March

Select "Rush Delivery" at checkout.

Returning to the office soon? Makes a great passive-aggressive, and mildly threatening, welcome back gift for your supervisor's desk.

When you think about it... this is exactly what a cat pretending to be a lawyer would say....

I saw this on Facebook this morning and felt compelled to share.

"I am not a cat." Just another practice pitfall we did not anticipate when this two-week shutdown started, 11 months ago

The video itself is presented below, but I can't imagine it will be available indefinitely. For that reason, I've included a still (both the video and the still were obtained from this post on Lowering the Bar, a site I link to on Page One).

When I saw this on the news last night my first thought was there but for the grace of God go I.

One of my sons texted me a different link to this story first thing this morning -- and it occured to me then that I am indeed fortunate not to have all the latest gizmos and whizbangs installed on my creaky old laptop. I could just imagine that this poor lawyer's kids or grandkids got hold of his machine and, in all innocence, left it on a setting the poor lawyer could not un-set. He refers to his "assistant" trying to help him de-cat his image, and I wondered if said assistant might be the kid who got him in this predicament in the first place. And then maybe couldn't remember---in the pressure of the moment---how to fix the problem.

I know your malpractice carrier and the good folks at ARDC will tell you that lawyers need to keep their work machines away from family members -- and this video presents a perfect illustration of why this advice is given -- but the kids or grandkids are not swiping the lawyer's machine to ascertain client confidences or business secrets. They probably would take it only as a last resort: Adobe Reader is no substitute for Fortnite. They would only swipe a lawyer's computer because all the other machines had been taken.

The Texas judge in question released this video for "educational purposes," adding, "It is crucial that this not be used to mock the lawyers."

You'll have no trouble with me, Your Honor. Not on this one. But my kids may be a different story....

Inspiration from Beethoven?

No subtext. No hidden meaning. Just a picture that made me laugh this morning. Maybe it will make you laugh, too. Even if you think it dumb-dumb-dumb-Dumb, dumb-dumb-dumb-Dumb.

Nation's Democrats Make Fortune Selling Used 'Not My President' Merch to Republicans

That was the headline on the Babylon Bee article from which the above illustration is also taken. It made me laugh this morning. It also made me think.

Four years ago, ordinarily sane, sober, well-educated FWIW readers were quite literally losing their -- well, they were reacting illogically and emotionally to a national election result they found hard to believe. They were shooting off fiery, defiant Tweets with the #Resist hashtag, or #NotMyPresident. They imagined vast foreign conspiracies undermining our electoral processes. Four years later... with an Electoral College count they find more palatable, these same people heap abuse and scorn on the Trumpers who are having trouble accepting this year's election results. And they do not remember their own bad example from four years ago. Memory is a funny thing, isn't it?

But we should still wear our masks, right?

As far as I know, this photo was not taken anywhere in Cook County.

I am not the only one concerned about Google's "nudges"

Randall Munroe offers this take in the webcomic XKCD. (Click on the link to view the original cartoon -- and the artist's comment embedded there.)

A "glitter bomb" to deter porch package snatchers

I heard about this today on the radio, then saw the video on Facebook -- which means I'm probably the last person in America to see this -- but, if by some chance you also haven't seen this, I believe you will find it well worth the 11 minutes or so that it takes to watch the whole thing.

Definitely not a good sign

Non Sequitur comic, by Wiley Miller, obtained from Yahoo! Comics.

Corporate lawyer achieves escape velocity

Image obtained from EVE Online

Debra Cassens Weiss has an article this morning on ABA Journal Law News Now entitled "Lawyer-turned-galactic overlord leaves BigLaw and achieves online success."

Alex Gianturco had a career defending white-collar crime cases for Washington, D.C.-based megafirm Zuckerman Spaeder LLP. But he was dissatisfied. He craved escape.

When James Thurber wrote "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty," the careworn Mr. Mitty could only imagine alternate realities. Mr. Gianturco could immerse himself in computer games. In Gianturco's case, the game of choice was something called EVE Online. In the Wall Street Journal article that inspired Ms. Weiss's post this morning, David Román describes EVE Online as a "popular space-combat game," a "rarity among games based on virtual universes" because, a decade after launch, it has a still-growing subscriber base (at a cost of $14.95 a month).

Gianturco's game persona, The Mittani, scratched and clawed his way to the head of the Goonswarm Alliance, leading, Román writes, "the 37,000 players of the larger CFC coalition." His path to the top of the virtual heap apparently involved stealth and espionage, not swashbuckling and weaponry. But he was still practicing law on his way up. Once Gianturco achieved his virtual success, he jettisoned the day job and moved, with his (presumably very understanding) wife, to Madison, Wisconsin, planning to live off his savings and maintain his precarious hold at the top of the EVE Online heap.

An incident at a 2011 gaming conference in Iceland -- Gianturco admits to being inebriated and "berating" another player -- led him to found his own website, TheMittani.com, covering games generally and the EVE Online universe in particular.

I don't pretend to understand any of this. My kids will tell you that I couldn't get the hang of the most basic Playstation controls when they were growing up. They made fun of my attempts to avoid conflicts and build trade routes in various editions of Sid Meier's Civilization. (You're supposed to start wars, they'd tell me.) And, of course, when I want to escape to a different world, I still sometimes read books. With actual pages and bindings and such.

But I understood this much: Mr. Gianturco has built such a successful website that he has attracted the attention of the Wall Street Journal. He admits to making a "comfortable living" from the ads on TheMittani.com. As the proprietor of a couple of websites, that's certainly enough to fire my imagination....

Does the NSA really want to ban this t-shirt?

My son-in-law Arne called this story on Business Insider to my attention. The gist of Jim Edwards' story was that gift site Zazzle.com pulled the t-shirt shown here from its site in response to pressure from the National Security Agency. (Zazzle had been selling these shirts for Dan McCall, the shirt's designer.)

This evening, however, The Atlantic Wire reports, "The NSA Doesn't Mind Parody T-Shirts After All." According to Connor Simpson's article, Zazzle did receive a letter from the NSA... in 2011.

According to Simpson, the NSA advised The Daily Dot, the outlet that first broke this story, that "The NSA seal is protected by Public Law 86-36, which states that it is not permitted for '…any person to use the initials NSA, the words National Security Agency and the NSA seal without first acquiring written permission from the Director of NSA" (some internal quotation marks omitted). However, the NSA's letter to Zazzle, back in 2011 didn't concern this t-shirt (obviously, since it was designed after the Snowden revelations) but rather a mug which apparently used the NSA seal.

This is the real NSA logo.
Note that it says nothing about
peeping or sleeping.

Despite the careless language in the linked stories, the t-shirt in question was not using the actual NSA seal. The motto of the NSA isn't really "peeping while you're sleeping."

But that's OK. The NSA was also apparently careless in its use of language. The actual statute in question is 50 U.S.C. §3613 which provides, in subsection (a) (emphasis mine):

No person may, except with the written permission of the Director of the National Security Agency, knowingly use the words “National Security Agency”, the initials “NSA”, the seal of the National Security Agency, or any colorable imitation of such words, initials, or seal in connection with any merchandise, impersonation, solicitation, or commercial activity in a manner reasonably calculated to convey the impression that such use is approved, endorsed, or authorized by the National Security Agency.

I don't think anyone could possibly develop an impression that the t-shirt depicted in this post was in any way "approved, endorsed, or authorized" by the NSA.

Meanwhile, The Atlantic Wire says the shirt is now available for sale on Cafepress. Click over there and you'll be instantly persuaded that, if Mr. McCall didn't invent this entire controversy, he is certainly taking full, savvy-marketing advantage of it all. And he is certainly not trying to convey any impression that his shirts carry the NSA imprimatur.

And tomato plants respond better to women than men, too

From Zay N. Smith's QT column this morning:

News Headline: "Plants capable of solving complex math equations"
And how many times have you, like QT, smiled and said, almost as a boast, "Oh, I'm no good at math"?

Well, a respected journalist like Mr. Smith would never make a headline up -- and a quick search of the Intertubes soon yielded an article duly entitled, "Plants capable of solving complex math equations," in a publication called the International Business Times.

Fiona Keating writes in the article of research showing how plants allocate starch to last through the night, "counting their starch and dividing it by the number of hours left until morning." Researchers from the John Innes Centre in Norwich discovered that Arabidopsis, a small flowering plant in the mustard family, "used their starch at a steady rate throughout the night, so that about 95% of their stock had been used up by dawn each day."

Stranger still, says Ms. Keating, "women gardeners' voices speed up growth of tomato plants much more than men's, according to a Royal Horticultural Study." Men reading to tomato plants actually slowed plant growth in some tests, according to the article, while tomato plants provided with female readers grew two inches taller.

"You never call, you never come over -- I'm gonna sue you"

The classic parental lament... updated?

Could be -- at least in China, starting July 1, according to an April 6 article in the Toronto Star, "Chinese parents can sue adult kids — for not visiting enough."

The measure may be a contemporary expression of a traditional Chinese value, but it's also a cost-cutting measure. According to the Star article, "China’s working-age citizens, ages 15 to 59, fell as a share of the population last year, and the National Committee on Aging estimates people 60 years and older will rise to 487 million by 2053 from 185 million in 2011." Children who care for their parents relieve the state of that burden.

China isn't the only country with a graying population. Might we see similar legislation here at some point?

A similar American law would raise a host of questions.

How often would a child have to visit to avoid legal trouble?

Would an only child have to visit more often than one of six siblings?

How many phone calls would be deemed equivalent to one in-person visit? Should a call from a child who lives 1,000 miles away count less than a call from one who lives 10 miles away?

Would holiday visits count more -- or less -- than visits on non-holiday weekends?

Does a visit count if the child brings his or her laundry? (Not if Mom has to do it, surely.) What if Mom cooks?

Punxsutawney Phil charged with 'misrepresentation of spring' in Ohio

Facing death in Ohio?

When a fat rodent falsely raises the hopes of millions of Americans, a price must be paid.

At least that's the tounge-in-cheek theory of Butler County, Ohio County Prosecutor Michael T. Gmoser, who, according to the AP, today indicted Punxsutawney Phil with "purposely, and with prior calculation and design, [causing] the people to believe that spring would come early," a "crime" amounting to a felony "against the peace and dignity of the state of Ohio." (It's apparently been cold there, too.)

Gmoser is demanding the death penalty for Phil.

In their linked article, Amanda Lee Myers and Mark Scolforo attempt to excuse their failure to obtain a statement from the accused by noting that Punxsutawney Phil's phone number is unlisted. They did note, however, that "Bill Deeley, president of the Punxsutawney club that organizes Groundhog Day, said Phil has a lawyer and would fight any extradition attempt by Ohio authorities."

Myers and Scolforo also note that Gmoser seems to have given a prosecutorial pass to "Ohio's own forecasting groundhog, Buckeye Chuck." (If our local newspapers reported any groundhog observations from Brookfield or Lincoln Park Zoos this year they were too embarrassed to allow the stories to be archived on Lexis.)

Meanwhile, Fake Science provides an alternate suggested punishment for Punxsutawney Phil. On second thought, Mr. Gmoser's recommendation may be more humane....

Wishful thinking?

(From Zach Weiner's webcomic, Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal)

¡Ojalá! If only it were so.

And, speaking of comics, did this morning's Chicago Sun-Times carry yesterday's comics -- or am I stuck in some sort of temporal loop?

Here's something I need to write about... sooner or later

ABA Journal Law News Now put up a post on August 14 about how persons prone to procrastination can avoid the pitfalls thereof.

Meanwhile, I've got it on my reading list.