"You've got to analyze by it upward in the air . . . . Our Recognized N&B forecast: Bieber will probably be Onceling inside of weeks."

Little known fact: we get lots of spam comments here at N&B. We do our best to stay on top of deleting it because generally it truly is most worthless – strange computer-generated references to internet relationships that bear no connection to anything in which anyone would be interested. Ever.

But every now and then our spam – for unknowable computer-generated reasons – strikes a chord. Every now and then, for reasons understandable only to the internets, the run-of-the mill spam at N&B manages to be just, well, perfect.

Exhibit A, from the Onceling thread:

With what can only become identified as "the newest thing, in Onceling usually takes Boalt Corridor through hurricane.

Precisely what is Onceling? It's a new move that will makes sense gratitude in order to both planking, owling and also understanding so hard in the course of finals your current bum affects and you've got to analyze by it upward in the air.

As pictured, the actual pose entails located on your knees using reading through content in front of see your face, your current biceps and triceps or perhaps hands also positioned on the outer lining till you and your rear prolonged. Be on the look out with this very hot brand-new move at your nearby bar as well as eating place. Our Recognized N&B forecast: Bieber will probably be Onceling inside of weeks.

From whence did this comment originate? Who knows?

It was posted by "英文seo", who plainly and undoubtedly is a scrupulous N&B follower and front-row disciple of esteemed Professor B's public land seminars. Beyond that we will leave it to you, dear reader, to pontificate in the comments.

Who Is to Blame for Siri's Abortion Incompetence?

You may have heard of the recent kerfuffle surrounding the apparent reluctance of Apple's new voice recognition application, "Siri," to locate an abortion clinic. Over the last week, groups like the National Abortion and Reproductive Rights Action League and the American Civil Liberties Union have spoken out against Apple because of the broader implications of the software glitch. In the preamble to a recent online petition by the ACLU to Apple: "[I]f Siri can tell us about Viagra, it should not provide bad or no information about contraceptives or abortion care. Send a message to Apple: Fix Siri."

But what exactly is causing the problem? A friend's gChat status sums it up nicely:

"I’m standing in front of a Planned Parenthood,” the CNN reporter says, “And Siri can’t find it when I search for abortion clinic.” No, it can’t. It’s not because Apple is pro-life. It’s because Planned Parenthood doesn’t call itself an abortion clinic.

Sigh. A pretty good rule of life is to never blame on malice what can be attributed to incompetence. Just because Siri talks to you doesn't mean she is anything other than a basic search engine.

Steve Jobs

Apple has announced the death of Steve Jobs tonight.  When I began college, people using Apple products were either graphic designers or essentially the comic book store guy from The Simpsons.  Its founder had just returned to the company as the CEO.  In the decade or so since, "His influence went far beyond the iconic personal computers that were Apple’s principal product for its first 20 years. In the last decade, Apple has redefined the music business through the iPod, the cellphone business through the iPhone and the entertainment and media world through the iPad. Again and again, Mr. Jobs gambled that he knew what the customer would want, and again and again he was right."

Even as a law student, I sneered at those using Macs, who were forced to borrow laptops to take finals.  "Viva la Windows dominance," I'd sneer.  Now, the prevalence of Apple products is almost surreal.  If I'm not mistaken, you can even take the bar on a Macbook.  Myself?  You could say I've undergone a mild reformation.  As an owner of an iPhone, iPad, at least half a dozen iPods, and AAPL shares, I mourn the passing of Steve Jobs.  I hope you'll join me in sending your thoughts and prayers to his family and loved ones.  

My ExamSoft Nightmare . . . with Happy Ending

I almost forgot to post this: I have something important to say about taking the bar with a laptop. During last year’s California exam my laptop crashed in the middle of a Performance Test, and I ended up having to write the remainder of the exam by hand. This post is about how to avoid my experience.

The trouble hit after I had spent about 15-20 minutes reading the PT file, taking notes, and outlining my answer by hand, during which time my computer’s power-save function set in and dimmed the screen. When I turned to begin typing, the computer not wake back up. I tried key taps ("tap . . tap-tap . . .TAP-TAP . . . TAPAKAACCKALAK-TAPTAPTAP!!!"). I tried mouse movements ("scribble . . . scribble-scribble-click-click"). I tried unplugging and re-plugging my power cord . . . nothing. Nada. Zippo. Zilch.

So, after a bit of fretting, I tried rebooting the machine. Nope. This freaked out the ExamSoft program -- it booted straight into ExamSoft and promptly reported an “error” message that left me unable to (1) enter ExamSoft or (2) boot my computer back to Windows. There I was, stuck in blue-screen error land, while everyone else was ferociously typing away.

I raised my hand and looked for my elderly proctor, but got no response. I stood, surveyed the room, and spotted her in a chair near the far end of my row. Fast asleep. I walked over, woke her, and asked for paper to hand-write my exam. After what felt like an eternity she returned, I set my computer aside, and returned to the PT answer I had outlined by hand. Shaken and more than a little stressed I looked down at the page and discovered that nothing -- and I mean NOTHING -- I had scrawled less than a half hour ago made any sense whatsoever. I recognized my handwriting and I knew what the individual words meant, but I couldn’t fathom how they might be related to one and other or point toward a logical legal exposition. (Comparison here to an unpleasant, public acid trip would not be inapt.) Not only could I not remember the structure of my answer, but I could not even remember the basic issue in the fact pattern. It was all the way back to square one for me.

I set to work, re-read the file, wrote my answer by hand, submitted that sucker in a giant paper envelope, and thought the worst was behind me.

Nope.

Remember how I couldn’t reboot my compute or enter ExamSoft? Well, I also had not yet uploaded my answers from the previous day, and I certainly couldn’t upload them now. Half the bar exam was sitting on my computer, with no apparent way to get it to the graders. When the exam ended I entered phase two of my personal little nightmare: an evening trying to multitask (1) being on hold with ExamSoft (the week of the bar exam is an, uh, “busy time” for the two freaking people they have doing customer service) and (2) celebrating with my classmates. Ultimately, with the midnight deadline fast approaching, I found myself:

1. Sitting on the sidewalk above the 19th Street Oakland BART station,
2. Drunk,
3. Poaching internet from some unsecured wireless network,
4. Listening to a very tired ExamSoft representative recite strange combinatons of letters and numbers for me to type into a command line I had never seen on my computer, all in an effort to
5. Complete the upload of my precious, precious bar exam answers.

Eventually the answers did upload, I got onto BART, and -- months later -- learned that I passed the bar. So, "all’s well that ends well," right? Well, yes, but it's also "not the destination but the journey that matters."

Here is how to NOT share my journey. ExamSoft, which operates by locking out access to all other files on the computer, also locked out access to whatever file was needed for my computer’s screen to “wake” from power-save mode. I later heard that similar issues can arise with automatic antivirus and updates settings. It turns out that one simple little setting change before the bar exam -- i.e., had I told my computer never to sleep or dim while plugged in -- would have spared me all that time, misery, and anxiety.

And that, Dear Reader, is my advice to you: disable your antivirus software’s automatic updates function and double-check your power-save settings. It will be 20 seconds well spent.

Oh, and one other thing: if you DO end up writing by hand, it’s actually not all that bad . . . really. I promise.

Me Fail Typing? That’s Unpossible

Mrs. Werner, the gradeschool keyboarding nazi-marm of my youth, used to tell us, “You are entering the computer age. The future for you is exciting and unknowable, but the one thing we do know is that you will all need to become skilled typists.” ¹

She uttered these and other prophetic threats (“if you do not know how to format a business letter you will never find a job, your parents will die, and you will have to beg for your food”) as she paced the rows of circi-1989 IBM computers, correcting students’ posture, pointing, pecking, and giggling, and good moods. She wore white nursey soft-soled shoes, and I still remember how it felt to realize she had slipped up from behind to scrutinize me. Hell. It felt like hell.

The hell didn’t just come from Mrs. Werner’s stealth. It also came from ridiculous rules that make up a grade school keyboarding class. Rules like, “strike the ‘Z’ only with the little finger on your left hand,” “use five spaces intent the first line of each paragraph,” and most annoyingly to me, rigorous standards for the number of spaces after each sentence. Mrs. Werner said two. My instinct, gut, and stubbornness said one, two, ten, it doesn’t make a difference. It’s a space, right? What does two accomplish that one does not? And let’s face it: what is so horrible about ten that doesn’t apply to two? It’s messy? Thoughts are messy! Keyboarding is messy! I’m nine years old for heaven’s sake! As you might predict, she beat it out of me in the end, but it took longer for the itch to go away: what the hell is really so wrong with one space?

I admit that the debate over whether a sentence should be followed by one space or two may seem petty. Even if petty however, it is a debate I lost once in elementary school when Mrs. Werner broke me, and it’s a debate I lost again tonight when the internets convinced me to go back to the heathen ways of my nine-year-old self.

That’s right folks, it looks like I’ve been lost, saved, and then saved again. Tonight, I asked Google to how to make Microsoft Word stop “correcting” the spaces after my sentences when I copy and paste. Mrs. Werner had made me into a double-tap the spacebar kind of fellow, and it bothered me that Word wasn’t adapting. But instead of a handy Word shortcut, what Google gave me was an internet assault on my pre-pubescent psychological imprinting. Two spaces, according to the world’s largest electronic brain, went out in 1947, right alongside sailor-top dresses and victory lipstick.

The rationale for double spacing, according to the internets, came from problems typesetting fixed-width fonts - problems longer relevant in the age of proportionally spaced computer-generated text. Unbeknownst to me, The Chicago Manual of Style began recommending in the mid-1970’s. So too with The Associated Press Style Book, The Publication Manual of the American Psychological Association, and The Gregg Reference Manual. The MLA Handbook for Writers of Research Papers appears to poo-poo two spaces as well, because although it states that two spaces are permissible, all its examples are rendered with only one.

Of course I know I can write my damn sentences however I want – that part of my nine-year-old spirit survives. But what about all those judges, partners, and slightly too big for their britches junior associates who will soon preside over me in professional judgment?

With my deepest apologies to Mrs. Werner, and not without a fearful peek over my shoulder, I accede. I am back to one space.

___________________
¹ Or, "You are entering a world of pain."

In Hindsight...

As the decade comes to an end (a year from now for the purists and math majors out there), it's always fun to look back.  This will come as a shock to a lot of the readers, but I did not get a cell phone until I was a sophomore in undergrad.  Internet? Got it while in HS and even then it was dial-up.  Instant messaging programs like AIM or ICQ (stands for I Seek You, for you young ones) were great, but they were mostly an additional form of communication.  You still called or actually met people to settle on plans.  No texting.  Can you imagine that?  Nowadays, even I'm turning into an antisocial hermit who panics at the sound of human voice or actual emotions that are not created by the combination of grammatical symbols.  If someone is not on my GChat list, I may not talk to him/her for years.  And thinking about the future just makes my head spin.  Are my kids going to laugh when I mention BluRays, Blackberries, movie theaters, GPS, DSL, etc.? So, please rant about what we leave behind in "the aughts" and what we have to look forward to in "the teens." 

Of course, we need a bit of levity as well.  My brother has a theory that about half the Seinfeld episodes would not exist if they had cell phones (e.g., meeting at the theater, setting an alarm, etc.).  In that vein, this video takes a look at some of the movies that would have turned out differently if they had cell phones. 

End of Lexis & WestLaw as We Know it?

Anyone who has taken a Lexis or WestLaw "cost-conscious" course knows that the services are an absolute rip off for clients. Charging $150 to click the search button? Isn't this the information age of technology?

I remember having a conversation with the Lexis rep as a 2L where I pointed out that such monopoly pricing of otherwise public information will not last much longer. A company like Google would one day open the floodgates and we would all be saved. She didn't have a lot to say in response, but neither of us thought the day would come before I entered the working world.

Is the dawn of that new day today? Check out that "company like Google" and what they've released here (and one of the early write-ups about it here).

$@!$# the PC at Work For Throwing My At-Home Apple Use Into a Tailspin

That's all.

Feel free to share your frustrations & embarrassments during the first week of your summer internship here. (Anyone who ended up in the wrong law firm today after entering the wrong elevator bank, raise your hand. Any hands raised? No hands? Oh. Um, me neither.)

Google on Google (or Why Blogspot Sucks)

The search feature on the title bar of this page sucks, which is pathetic considering blogspot is a Google entity. It only searches main posts but not comments. So when someone wants to know about a particular professor, say Professor Legal Accounting, she can't search the comments. To that end, I finally took five minutes to embed Google site search. You can find it below the archives on the main page. Now you just have to figure out whether to search with or without an asterisk. Figured this would make things easier for people doing research for their fantasy professor drafts.

*Sigh* I Guess It's a Good Day After All

Last night I vowed to rant about Boalt Remote -- it's been down for what, five weeks? Six? Recently, it took me fourteen minutes to log on to one of the dinosaurs in the computer lab, retrieve a three page pdf from a flash drive, and print it. Fourteen freaking minutes! (Yes, I am the type of person who keeps track of such things.)

So, this morning when I woke up with a laundry list of scathing zingers and witty puns, I cracked my knuckles and sat down to crank out that rant. Oooo, I was gonna' show 'em! At the last moment, however, I decided to take a friend's kind advice and visit the print station one last time to check my facts. And waddy'a know? The little sucker has been fixed.

What a letdown.

An iPhone is Like Having ___ in Your Pocket*

After a protracted internal debate, which I managed to externalize to almost everyone I know, I recently chose a BlackBerry over an iPhone.

[cue hateful comments]

The response from my friends was impressive both for its volume and its venom. I was amazed; I'm aware that nobody does passive-aggressive spite like Democrats and Mac users (I know because I dabble in both) but this time I was floored. "It's not too late," implores one friend. "Dead letter," declares another. "You WHAT?!?" demands a third.

But it is too late. I've already developed quite a fondness for the little fella', and the truth is I'm probably not trendy enough for an iPhone anyway. Yes, I said it.

And I can live without having ____ in my pocket, thank you.


---------------------------------------
*Fill in the blank as you see fit.

Nothing Says "Happy Holidays" Like an Old Fashioned Airport Camping Trip

This morning I hauled myself out of bed at 4:30, hiked to the Downtown Berkeley BART station, rode to the Coliseum, stood in the rain for twenty minutes, fumbled for three dollars on AirBart, arrived at Oakland International,  jogged to the ticket counter . . . and learned that my flight was delayed for "the foreseeable future."

(Did I check the little "call me with updates on my flight" box when I bought my ticket? Yes. Did they call me with updates? No. But did they call to offer me a "bargain" on rental cars? Oh, hell yes -- about five minutes ago. WTF?)

I understand that delays happen.  I'm headed to northern Idaho via Spokane, which was socked this week with two feet of snow, and where temperatures have been hovering around zero degrees. I'd be moving slowly, too. I get it. But I don't have to like it, and the whole airport experience seems to add insult to my injury.  I sometimes wonder if the "airport" is really some evil deity's pet invention, specially engineered just to piss me off. It wouldn't be the first time that happened.

If your life is like mine, some days you wake up in the morning and are immediately hit with a big pile of crap. And some days you realize: the only thing you can do with a big pile of crap is spread it around.  This post is about today, which is one of those days.  Apologies, all, but here comes a little pity-party-rant for myself and for any other sentient creatures at gate C-6:

• The waiting areas. Each seat has an immovable armrest. Am I the only one who thinks this is ridiculous? Immovable armrests are anti-homelessness devices.  Is there some sort of homelessness problem in Concourse C?
  
• Airport coffee. It sucks.  Period.  (There is a blanket exception for PDX, in Portland, Oregon. Why can't I be stranded there? Why can't everyone else be more like them?)
  
• The horn-tooting, bull-hollering airport personnel who cart the morbidly obese on those electric powered flatbeded sloth-mobiles -- all while yelling at ME to get out of the way! "Wonk, wonk, coming trough, people. Move to the right, people, move right." Look, if anybody should be allowed to yell at anybody for not moving enough . . . ?  The way I see it, we're either going to be polite, or we're not.  That means that if if the sloth haulers can yell their personal thoughts at me, I should be able to holler my own observations in return. Right? What's so wrong about that?
  
• Security. Oh, god, don't get me started on airport security. Can you carry a bottle of water through a security checkpoint? No. Can you carry 24 ounces of saline solution through the same checkpoint? Yes. "Why?" you may ask. Well, apparently there is an exception for "medical supplies." I would like to know, however: exactly how does that works out in real life? Is it that medical supplies are excepted, or that stuff labeled medical supplies is excepted? I would really, really like to know -- I NEED to know -- because a 24 ounce "bottle of saline" can hold a lot of shampoo. Or vodka. Or C-4.
• Christmas music. I'm not a Grinch, but I swear to God if I hear Silent Night one more time before 8:00 a.m., something in my brain might rupture. Further, I find the fact that the holiday music here has been cleansed of any culturally sensitive references to God is somehow even more insulting than just singing preachy Christmas songs. It's like they had the political correctness to note the possibility of Islamic or atheistic travelers, but without the intelligence or grace to realize that some people might prefer not to have the tune piped down their throats, either.
  
• Special security announcements: "This is a special security announcement: please maintain control of your personal belongings at all time. Unattended baggage is subject to search, inspection, damage, and removal. Do not accept items or packages from unknown individuals. Unattended vehicles will be ticketed and towed." Okay, first of all, this message has been playing in airports every 80 seconds for at least the last seven years. So, there is nothing "special" about it. Second, what's with "ticketed and towed"??? Is that really the TSA's car bomb strategy? Seriously? I'd hate to be the tow-truck driver. If writing tickets is all it takes to deter terrorists, then why not skip the announcements, the cameras, the 7 billion dollar budget, and just start ticketing terrorism?
  

I freely confess the real problem here: I'm being a cranky whiner because I went to bed late, got up early, and am confined to furniture that forecloses any possibly of rest for "the foreseeable future."  I admit that.  This is a weak moment.  Just because I'm cranky, though, doesn't necessarily mean I'm wrong. How could this place NOT drive a person mad?  I think it is fair to say airports embody everything that is wrong with the American approach to problem solving. An airport is a huge, ponderous machine that works -- I'll grant that it works -- but it never works quite right. It's American-made, I guess.  Like a Chevy Tahoe, a Democrat, or a SAM.

An Open Letter to Uncle Zeb

Like the rest of the tenants of the 21st century, I rely on credit and debit cards as my primary method of legal tender. I recognize that carrying cash worked perfectly fine in the days before electricity and networking were readily accessible, but given the advances since, it seems silly to keep insisting on it. I can buy music without leaving the comfort of my home, and can pause 30 Rock while I take a bathroom break - they even have video games you can control with your brain. So why doesn't Zeb take credit card?

One reason may be the fees that credit card companies charge. A quick googlin' reveals that Visa charges 1.62% of the purchase price. So my $1.75 coffee will now cost $1.78. Boo, hiss. I'd gladly pay everyone's fees for an entire day if meant that I could use my credit card. I'd even punch a whale in the face. The convenience is worth far more than 1.62%.

But what about the amount of time? Cash is way faster, right? This may have been the case when we were forced to use those 56.6k modems, with their cacophony of dial-up sounds (I still have nightmares about those beeps), but even with the problem-riddled Berkeley network, verification takes on average (through my completely unscientific study of I-House purchases) about 10 seconds from swipe to approval. Even the most dexterous Zeb-worker would have trouble making change at those blinding speeds. And anymore, signatures aren't required on purchases under $20, so unless you're treating me to lunch (which you should), you won't have to worry about the time lost searching for a pen.

So how about it Uncle Zeb? You want to get with the times and start taking credit card? I'm not even talking about those exotic credit cards like Amex and Discover (haha, seriously, who accepts Discover?). You will make a whole slew of Boalties happy.

Nobody Likes a Tattletale

Thank you, Boalt 2L's, for not exhibiting the poor judgement and lack of foresight that a Michigan 2L demonstrated today by forwarding a letter from their CDO to the Wall Street Journal Law Blog.*

The Michigan letter encourages students with offers from White & Case to look elsewhere, as the firm may have over-hired its 2009 summer class. (For the record, the firm denies anything of the sort.) Setting aside whether the letter was accurate, one thing is certain: the Michigan CDO will think twice before sharing any inside tips with its 2L class. And, likely, White & Case now has a sour attitude toward the school. Neither of those are good for students.

I have never seen a letter from our CDO on WSJ Law Blog or ATL. Good. Perhaps our collective judgment is but one more reason to hire Boalties.

_______________________
*While speaking of Wolverines, how could we not mention other hot topics this year, which include cell phones and sandwiches?

Survey Number 988978655

[Update: Just saw this. Un-freaking-believable. Great minds think alike.]

----------------

If you are a 2L or a 3L you recently received an e-mail asking to you fill out a survey on what can be done to improve the online teaching evaluation process. Since you probably deleted it as a matter of course, I posted in the comments.

No ill will intented to BHSA for conducting the survey, but the problem with the evaluations is stunningly simple, and has been kicked around on this blog for years. It's no mystery: because the school doesn't share any meaningful survey results, they're worthless to students. Absolutely worthless. Many of us went to colleges where the process was much more transparent, and when we asked DE a town hall last year what could be done to improve the evaluation process here, DO stepped in and explained that "the faculty are opposed" to further disclosure. That was that. Discussion over. Issue closed. Now that "response rates have been declining," though, they are apparently interested in our feedback.

Stepping off the moral high horse, there are lots of practical reasons students should encourage releasing the narratives of student evaluations. Which professor has threatened to ban laptops? Which professor takes attendance like it's God's work? Which professor buys his pants a size down and stands in the lecture halls with one leg on the podium? We need to know ahead of time! We need to KNOW!

I encourage you use the survey to remind the school that the current evaluation process is, at a bare minimum, mildly insulting to the sudden body, and to point out how easy it would be to turn things around. I also encourage you not to hold your breath for significant change, although I would love to be proven wrong.

Tele-F*CKED 2008, Phase II

Thanks to your diligent efforts, I have lost my unfair advantage over my fellow students. Damn you, Nuts and Boalts!
So says an anonymous survey-taker, and correctly: Tele-BEARS times have been randomized.
Specifically, students have been grouped by graduating class and then randomized within that group. Third year students (with the exception of one very unlucky Boaltie) register at least one day prior to 2L's. Second year students, however, appear to enjoy no registration benefit over 1L's. That is probably of little concern because 1L spring courses carry their own section numbers, which means that 1L's and 2L's do not vie for slots.
So, take comfort. You may be screwed this semester, but it isn't by the UC Registrar. It's now the UC Registrar, as controlled by the hand of God.

-----------------------------------------

A big thank you to Matt, for providing the imagery.  I have also provided a fairly readable sample of some of the data here. The full spreadsheet, redacted for IP addresses, is here. Note that there is no way to determine whether the times will be re-randomized each semester or if you will be locked into your 'place in line' for your tenure at Boalt, but wouldn't that be a peach?

Tele-F*CKED 2008, Phase I

First, they lied. Then they were caught. But they never apologized.

For those of you tuning in for the first time this fall, here's a brief rundown:

Boalt students have been assured for years that Tele-BEARS registration times (and the concomitant opportunity take that coveted class, or to score an early slot on the wait-list) were randomized to ensure fairness.

Not so. Students discovered last spring that registration times were in fact issued by student ID number -- the lower your ID number, the earlier you registered. Even worse, the earlier you applied to the UC system (even as an undergrad, and even if you didn't attend), the lower your ID number. The result was that some people (like Armen) enjoyed the prized seminars, classes, and professors every single semester at Boalt, while the rest of us sit through classes like Janitor Law from adjuncts.

We were promised last spring that it would be fixed by this fall. It is true that any twelve year-old with ten minutes and an Excel spreadsheet could randomize 800 numbers, but I just wonder. . ?

If you are a current Boalt student, your Tele-BEARS times are now available at Bear Facts (but not, ironically, at the Tele-BEARS page). Please take this anonymous survey and please tell your comrades to do the same, as we need several hundred responses to ensure an accurate response. We will know by later this week whether they fixed the problem.

A Nerd's Fury [updated with "official response"]

What in the hell is going on with AirBears? I swear, I can put up with a lot of the incompetence that goes with the territory of running a school, but this it too much. How can Boalt, which is part of BERKELEY, one of the top tech schools in the FREAKIN UNIVERSE, not have an operable wireless network?? It literally boggles my mind. This isn't South Wichita Community College. The implications of this go beyond me not being able to check up on celebrity gossip in class; people rely on the internet for a bevy of functional and utilitarian purposes during classes, such as taking notes online, sharing documents, checking wikipedia for more info on a case during class, opening the non-casebook version of the case in Westlaw, etc. These people (myself included) are completely hamstrung when Airbears isn't available. It's inexecusable - for Berkeley, for what we pay to go to BLaw, and for our needs during class.

Now I know IT is often a thankless job, and no one respects IT more than me, but it's time something is done about this. Spend all available resources at fixing the problem. Declare Defcon 8. I don't care. The rumor is that IT says it's a rogue laptop broadcasting a rival DHCP network that's denying access, but that seems like a crock of camel turds. If that was the case, then why are we denied access from all parts of the building at times? Checking my IP, I see that occasionally I get a 192.168.x.x IP assigned to me, but when I reload I have a seemingly valid IP address. After consulting with my fellow nerds, the problem doesn't seem to be a disgruntled student with a renegade notebook, but rather a failure of the Airbears to re-loan IP's that have been checked back in. Once you're in, you're in. But until Airbears can give you an IP, you're sans what Lindsay Lohan did last night, or maybe even more importantly, the ability to do ANYTHING that requires access to the outside world.

Administration - PLEASE FIX THIS. Everyone else - feel free to bitch and groan here, and maybe we can make enough noise to get this taken care of.

[see the comments for the official response to the Airbears problem]

Dean Edley Townhall

[Update I: Matt has created a summary of the meeting, which is posted in the comments.]

[Update II: BHSA plans to supplement their paper petition with an electronic survey (a wise move), which should be coming through your in-boxes soon. If you are a current Boalt student, click here to respond.]

[Update III: This via Boalt's IT folks: "Having problems with AirBears? Please see this page for more information." (Yes, the irony is palpable.)]

--------

Stay tuned for live blogging of Dean Edley's townhall after the jump (TJ is tackling it).

A Scene From the Lecture Halls

Excuse me, Professor? I'm sorry, but could you please repeat everything you just said? We can't hear you over the noise.

The noise, in this case, being the sawing, banging, grinding, and dragging of steel pipes beneath the floor in the center of Room 105.

The solution seems simple: just e-mail the Assistant Dean of Students, who is in contact with the construction workers and has promised to make them 'pipe down' as needed. Except that in fact it is no solution at all: AirBears isn't working any better than the paper towel dispensers in the men's rooms, the outlets in Booth, or the line at Cafe Zeb.