After nearly a year and a half, I have decided to dust off this site and try to dedicate some time to pouring my most private and intimate thoughts unto the most public and crass of media.
I dislike bloggers and blogging, mostly as it has become passé and ubiquitously pollutes the internet with whining authors (not unlike myself) waxing on and on about the most mundane details of their lives. I suppose I am a bit of a hypocrite stating that since, looking at the quality of my posts, I have whined and complained with all the angst of a character on One Tree Hill (which I can’t stand – see, there I go having another whinge!)
My degree at University of Malta was difficult but probably not as much as I made it out to be. I can safely state that the actual professional qualifications and moreover actually securing a job is far more arduous and makes the Roman law lectures seem like a wonderful picnic (which it sometimes was. I often brought food in a basket to those 2 hour lectures and a nice chequered blanket upon which to sit).
At any rate, the arduousness of job-finding and life in general produces a great many thoughts and ponderings that squeeze the important and coherent thoughts to the back, thereby resulting in procrastination. I need an outlet for this absurdist effluent of consciousness. This therefore has motivated me to redesign the focus of this page: I have renamed it, changed the colours and, if I can muster the time and savvy, I will put a delightful header image at the top to entertain us all (the current one is shite).
I dislike blog.com since there interface is, well, shit. But I don’t really want to pay to add my posts into the whirling vortex of trash media that is the internet. I will be sure to include a great deal of photos though. Everyone loves a picture. Except vampires, but that’s only because they don’t show up and that makes their social networking homepages appear as empty and dry as their vampiric social lives. Which is probably why they sleep all day.
Tomorrow is my exam in Obligations. A sleek 3-out-of-5 question exam covering more topics than wikipedia on the wide-world of the law of obligations. I have figured there are 25 different topics within the 3 headings of 'Contracts', 'Extinction of Obligations' and 'Tort'. In essence, with less than 24 hours to go there is only one place I can pull the answers out of: my ass.
Seriously, I have gone through the material maybe 3 dozen times and it may have been written in Amharic or Hindi or Dutch or anything else because it's Greek to me. This is it, this is the one test I have to pass in order to be done (sorry Dave and Simone, International law is not a major threat IMO) and I can't muster the will and energy to concentrate for the next 20+ hours to manage a mere 45% to pass. I need a miracle. I need a box of miracles.
So Obligations is the albatross around my neck. Maybe my use of the metaphor is wrong, who knows. But it is the burden I definately feel around my neck, and between Larry, Tony and Davie Z, I feel the crunch. Patrick, Patrick where art thou?
Having said of all that, it's time to stop kvetching and start strengthing my clarity and resolve. End of the day, the Obligations Trio is no match me (or any of you! Beli'dat yo). Just pull it together, just for this one last, glorious push to take the hill.
To everyone taking hard exams, I feel for you. To everyone taking Obligations tomorrow, best of luck.
I was looking back through my blog and noticed that I only ever seem to write during the exam period. Well, for good reason I'd argue, it's in keeping with my procrastination. I got an email from the University asking for me to confirm the spelling of my name for the diploma. It would be a great nut-slapping irony if I had to do resits or, ick, do the third year over...Maybe I can swing my chances of passing if I stop farting around on my blog and actually learn about locus standi (it's really boring, it's like eating cardboard). Well, enough yapping. Gonna put on my game face and finally finish a long await degree...
Quarter to one. Sitting here staring at Francovitch, thinking about how is it possible that I have gone through half a dozen books and not one author has had the decency to give concise, straight answers; Craig and de Burca - 1241 pages of convoluted, academic jibba-jabba. A glorified 11.25 LM roll of toilet paper.
Eight more days until exams and four more exams stand between me and my hard earned LL.B. These past 3 years have taught me something - I do like the law. I never saw myself becoming a lawyer or pursuing a career even remotely related to the legal profession. Funny how life switches on you like that. Previously, I was attending Boston University, majoring in Environmental Policy and Analysis. Well, I guess the legal inclinations were there all along huh? I really did (do?) care about the environment, but there are a lot of hysterical, drama queen, bleeding-heart types out there who muck up the whole science to it. It becomes a philosophical, and at worst political, aim for a great many and I was no different. The law though, that's different. Here you have know-it-alls, larger than life egos pontificating and arguing and debating. It's a giant game with the prize being 'justice' (the term is fluid for a lot in the profession it seems). It's just the rabid idealism of youth that blinded me to what, practically, I feel most comfortable doing - arguing with people and being right.
I remember what made me want to be a lawyer: A fat slob of an Emirati who wouldn't know his ass from his elbow if you drew him a map. The absolute worst lawyer you could have. Before him we had Hamza, the Iraqi Mr. Magoo. He was nearly 300 years old, had the coke-bottle glasses and maybe 4 teeth. He was more than likely around when they actually wrote the laws of Dubai. He was probably also waiting at the bottom of Mt. Sinai for Moses too. He was a nice guy but he never did give that 'hard lesson' to K that he always promised. I used to go with him to Niyaba (Prosecutor's Office) and do the Wait. This is where we wait for Hamza to get some face time with the prosecutor (or as Hamza said, 'prostitutor', which is probably a more accurate description). I'd pace up and down the halls, thumbing through the 'Convert to Islam' propaganda that they'd give me (who exactly, I don't know, but they were relentless. You know the glossy eyed true believers. Everyday, they'd bank that Aaron was going to end the day as Haroun Rashid. Never worked out for them. 'Nice' people though).
The Wait was terrible. Niyaba is perhaps the most boring place to be, I know. I was there for months. It was like every other building in the Middle East - built in the last 15 years and air-conditioned to the max. It was immaculately clean since a literal army of underpaid workers (ahem, slaves) scrubed, polished and buffed every corner to perfection. It what I honestly imagine hell to be like: a repetition of worthless formalities, disrespect and hopelessness. I'd go 'home 'every day and analyse the events of the morning in order to find that silver lining. Some days were better than others.
I found things to do though. Every day started the same. We get there at around 7.30. I'd pace I'd practice my trivial Arabic on the desk clerk, you'd humor me by pretending that he understood my garbling of his language. Then I'd just ask him if he watched 'Tash ma Tash' (طاش ما طاش) that night. We'd have a laugh. After talkin' for a while then its time to go upstairs and sit on the couch. Those uncomfortable black leather couches. Seriously, they just clung to you. There were quite a cast of characters up there though: the Nigerian guy who insisted on starting every sentence with 'Let me tell you one thing', the seemingly never-ending train of Eastern European/Russian prostitutes, the old guy who seemed to be in every day with a new complaint, local Emiratis running into each other every 10 minutes and doing these over-the-top greetings as if they hadn't seen each other for years, the wailing mother-grandmother, some Indian guy's 4,000 relatives, then there was the Head Clerk, a Sudanese who had a milky eye and told us how our case was going no where. He still helped when he could, so he wasn't a bad guy.
Going to court there was another experience, but I'll dedicate an entire post to it to do it justice though.
I guess the litany of crapola lawyers in Dubai just made my blood boil. The fact that the legal system there accentuated the crapiness of the lawyers, thereby creating a devestating effect on people's lives offended my sensibility of justice, righteousness and more of all efficiency (let no one say it wasn't time consuming).
Anyway, I think I am finally getting that sense of the 'finishing line'. I want this pursuit of a degree over with (I still have a zillion and three hurdles to jump through in the UK to become a solicitor (lawyer for you yanks) but it will be well worth it). Damn, I'll have to restructure my blog if I move. Oh well, something to do when exams are over.
It's one in the morning, offically eight days left. Today is Commercial law study. Hopefully it will go a lot more swimmingly than EU law day has.
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Last couple of days I have been reading through the media and found a number of interesting stories. Perhaps one of the most bizarre is a German divorce case that quite literally split the estate. In Malta there was a similar case, though I can't remember the name. Basically the husband partitioned the house and the Court was actually cool with that, if memory serves correctly.
I ran across this recent case though, again in Germany. A judge denied a wife's application for divorce, which had been based on spousal abuse, on the grounds that the Quran allowed the husband to beat her. I know, what the fuck? Allow me to go through this one piece by piece...
You see, here we have several elements at play: the German Basic Law, Sharia law, and misguided (read stupid) cultural sensitivity. In the case we have a woman who is abused and is seeking the protection of the law. This is her right under the laws of Germany. The plaintiff just so happens to be Morroccan and incidentally a Muslim. This is where the road gets bumpy.
There are certain elements of Western society, at least as far as I can see, that have ascribed the 'multicultural myth'. What does this mean? (No doesn't mean I am a rabid bigot, just keep reading). Multiculturalism is a buzzword that has been thrown around for sometime. It is modelled pretty much on the song 'Its a Small World Afterall'; where everyone is a cardboard cut out of ethnicity/race/religion/nationality and we pat ourselves on the back for living in the same neighbourhood. We don't try to establish societal norms other than 'being tolerant of one another'. Instead of creating cohesion amongst the various groups in society, we allow them to solidify into various cultural/racial strata while de-emphasizing what is common to all. Some people seem to think it atones for Western guilt over colonialism and slavery, and these people are not only dumb, but dangerous to society. The term multicultural has been transformed from an adjective to a plan of social engineering.
I only say social engineering because there has been an active role (by government or the judiciary) in creating the Multicultural Society instead of letting it form naturally. When such artifice is foisted upon a society, it lacks the necessary resonance among the various levels that would indicate that the multicultural feature is genuine. [NOTE: this doesn't forgo that some societal retification is needed where there are legitimate barriers based around race/cultural/religion like in Brown v. Board of Education)
I am no Muslim scholar, hell, or even a Muslim. I am just a guy who reads Wikipedia non-stop (what I like to call a dorkathon) So let's look at the Sharia precept of wife beating, Surah 4:34, I mean after all, was this German judge on to something here?
Men are (meant to be righteous and kind) guardians of women because God has favored some more than others and because they (i.e. men) spend out of their wealth. (In their turn) righteous women are (meant to be) devoted and to guard what God has (willed to be) guarded even though out of sight (of the husband). As for those (women) on whose part you fear ill-will and nasty conduct, admonish them (first), (next) separate them in beds (and last) beat them. But if they obey you, then seek nothing against them. Behold, God is most high and great
Well, we have alot of divergent views in the Islamic world, but beating seems to be the norm for some and there seems to be a set of rules that governs this. Firstly, the word used in the Koran is daraba (ضرب). Daraba has a gazillion meanings (like many words in Arabic, which can sometimes lead to alot of ambiguity and subsequent text twisting). One website states that it's not a beating at all but simply kicking the wife out of the house (strike her out of the house).
Superficially at least, we can see there are at least a few divergent view points on the matter and they range from actual beatings to throwing out of the house. What puzzles me is why this judge chose the most extreme interpretation, completely inconsistent with German law. This judge probably thought she was being really wise, but all she was doing was adding to German jurisprudence something that wasn't there. Domestic violence is prohibited under German law and whoop-dee-doo that some cultures believe its ok to smack the wifesky around when the womkan steps outta line; it's wrong in Germany and grounds for divorce. Unless Germany becomes a Muslim state or the German courts allow for Sharia to govern family matters, then the judge had no business denying this woman her rights under German law because she is a certain religion. Ironically, that would constitute discrimination, but try explaining that to the die-hard multiculturalists.
But considering that Germany also just let go one of its most infamous killers, the Meinhof gang leader, then I suppose there is a screw loose in the German legal sector. The woman is not sorry for the muders committed and has made no public apology. Though politically motivated, she still murdered people in cold-blood. How freakin' enlightened...
I am told that the judge has since been removed from the bench for this decision, and that I think was the correct choice. Even Muslim groups in Germany came out against this ruling. I take that as a good sign since the media is sometimes inundated with stories about how Muslims are gonna change our states into the Caliphate of yester-century. In the end, I think the German judge honestly thought she was being a true-blue multicultral, tolerant person. But you never win when you are tolerant of ignorant practice or ideas [yes, I said it wife beating is ignorant, stupid and most of all criminal. I don't care there is supposed religious backing for it]. Being tolerant of intolerance is the ultimate test for these morons. Sometimes you just wanna grab them, shake em and tell them to wake up.
Obviously the UN Human Rights President gets all huffy and deems the statement inadmissable, but truth had to be told. Let me not get started on the UN, cuz we'd be here for a while.
Y'all take care now...
---EDIT---
Does anyone remember the Super Mario Bros. Super Show? Well, end credits and a trip down memory lane:
Sometimes we get alot of pressure in our lives that we just have to vent. This is a common experience in human existence and we have alternate ways of dealing with it. Most of the time its tragic; we end up hurting people and making asses of ourselves....but other times it can be funny...
So I was browsing through the Internet (no, not for porn...) and chanced upon this video. For those of us who weren't in HK during May 2006, you may not be aware of 'Bus Uncle'. This guy is a piece of work. Those of you whose native tongue is Cantonese will appreciate the subtle humour in the language (whilst I furiously look up meanings of words to try to free myselff from being a dumb gwailo). So in the spirit of the coming Chinese New Year (Pig year this time around...awesome), I give you Bus Uncle!
----EDIT----
Someone actually went to through the trouble to remix it with a Sammi Cheng Song...enjoy...
Time is the measure of oppertunity and chance. You get a fixed amount of chances in life which I call doors. Now that might seem a tad fatalistic but freewill comes into play when you realize there are many doors open at one time. It's brilliant, because no matter what you always walk through the doors. The only downside is that once you walk through the door, it closes and you probably wont get that choice back again. Good news is that a bunch of other doors open, but not necessarily the ones you want.
So as well fly through chance after oppertunity, doors of your life opening and slamming, we seldom stop for a moment to ask what are you looking for behind that door? What is it you expect to find? Is there a final door? It's a race to hold this mass of water, bone and dust together and make it through the door we want.
Often we make mistakes. We pick the wrong doors. Why? Because they are easy to open, intrigue curiosity, or are just marked on the path of least resistence. I would say that mistakes aren't even doors, they are cabinets. They put you in a cramped environment, and to get out, you deparately open the next available door - not realizing the choice you just made.
So we amble around the mansion of our lives, locking ourselves out, keeping ourselves in, getting lost, searching - aimless. We run into others strolling through and sometimes we walk a bit with them, sometimes we run from them, mostly we just ignore them. People like to hedge their bets for we are not gamblers by nature. We want to know that the path we are walking is a path worth walking; that it is the right path. No one can say what's right or wrong for life choices, that's for you to decide. The focus should be on impact. Sometimes we have to be selfish and sometimes considerate of others; all choices and evaluations we have to make.
I think while we breeze through life's chances, big and small, we acquire a sense of satisfaction and understanding of our niche. There is intrinsic purpose, but we must also not mislabel coincidence as such. When you see something of value, and it comes to you - grab hold. Appreciate what you have because when you give up the ghost, you give it all up.
While you are navigating through it all, its the knowledge of what is good in your life that gets you through high and low seas. A dog will drop a bone in his mouth for the one in your hand. We do the same and on a much larger scale. Keep the sacred holy and the honourable respected. Sometimes I think we have lots propriety and order in society. Simply, we value the wrong side of the coin.
Keep that which is precious sacred, lots of trechery abound while we are slamming through doors, defend the sampo...
