dicta \ 'dik-te \ n. [L. fr. neut. of dictus, ptp. of dicere] (1599) 1: a noteworthy statement: as a: a formal pronouncement of a principle, proposition, or opinion b: an observation intended or regarded as authoritative 2: a judicial opinion on a point other than the precise issue involved in determining a case 3: a legendary coach of the Chicago Bears football team from 1982-1992.

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Best trademark dispute ever!


ATHENS, Greece (AP) -- A Greek court has been asked to draw the line between the natives of the Aegean Sea island of Lesbos and the world's gay women.

Three islanders from Lesbos - home of the ancient poet Sappho, who praised love between women - have taken a gay rights group to court for using the word lesbian in its name.

One of the plaintiffs said Wednesday that the name of the association, Homosexual and Lesbian Community of Greece, "insults the identity" of the people of Lesbos, who are also known as Lesbians.

I can understand why the residents of Lesbos (especially the females) would have some difficulty identifying where they are from. But you can't sue to remove a word from the vernacular, especially a word that has been entrenched for a couple thousand years. Can you imagine what would happen if a group of people in India got together and sued Native Americans over who can legitimately be called Indian?


Is it OK that this lawsuit turns me on a little bit? Imagine the discovery that the judge could ask for...

Retarded state legislation: Lousiana edition


Gracious hat-tip to Quiz Law.

As Justice Brandeis said, state legislatures are the "laboratories of democracy." Well in some cases, a well-intentioned laboratory can produce a Frankenstein monster... or in this case, a tasty adult beverage.


S.B. 6
By Senator Murray
§170.15. State cocktail

There shall be an official state cocktail. The official state cocktail shall be the Sazerac. The Sazerac, created in the nineteenth century by Antoine Amedee Peychaud in the French Quarter of New Orleans, is world known for the use of a local product known as "Peychaud's Bitters." Its use on official documents of the state and with the insignia of the state is hereby authorized.

I can't think of any other legislature that would be even propose something like this. After all, this is the state that passed not one, but two official state poems four months after Katrina. And of course the Senator Murray, the sponsor of this bill is from New Orleans. I'm sure all the schools in his district are well-funded, the economy is doing just swell, everyone has a decent home to live in. That's the POSSIBLE reason why he would have space left on his legislative portfolio for this bull crap.

Keep up the good work, Sen. Murray. You're doing a crackerjack job.

P.S. This drink contains absinthe. Why am I not surprised?

Monday, April 28, 2008

Ars Scientia Propagandis: Law's Problem with Expelled


So Expelled has been causing a little bit furor over its unremitting and unending stupidity. And, I want to be quick to point out, that stupidity does NOT have to do with the content of its underlying "science," creationism (which, for the record, is pretty stupid). The stupidity comes from its false dichotomy and its insistence that there's some sort of Great Atheist Conspiracy to suppress creationism.

But I have a slightly different question, since I'm not by any means a science blogger - I'm at best a law blogger who sometimes forays into religion or politics (and thus don't really belong on SP at all, but that's a different column). Anyway, my question is this:

How are we supposed to ensure that only science is science?

This isn't as glib a question as it might seem. Federal Rule of Evidence 702 states that

"if scientific, technical, or other specialized knowledge will assist the trier of fact to understand the evidence or to determine a fact in issue, a witness qualified as an expert by knowledge, skill, experience, training, or education, may testify thereto in the form of an opinion or otherwise, if (1) the testimony is based upon sufficient facts or data, (2) the testimony is the product of reliable principles and methods, and (3) the witness has applied the principles and methods reliably to the facts of the case."
What does that mean? Basically, it means that experts in some "specialized" field can explain what their field says the facts of the case mean (i.e., offer an opinion as to the outcome, which is normally the exclusive province of the jury), if and only if they have sufficient facts (i.e., the same record the jury has), if their expert opinion is based on a process that is reliable, and they can show that they haven't screwed up at some point in the process.

The basic process for assessing expert testimony within a motion to exclude a given expert's testimony was laid out by the Court in Daubert v. Merrell Dow Pharmaceuticals, Inc. In Daubert, the Court laid on the shoulders of trial judges the burden of determining whether the expert's testimony was based "reliable principles and methods." In short, as one of my classmates put it:
Daubert means that only science that's science gets called science in court.
But what the hell is "science that's science?" Daubert lays out five factors intended to guide courts: first, the testability of the expert's technique (in other words, can we reproduce the process and see if it gets the same result?); second, peer review and publication (does the expert's scientific community think this is something that might be real?); third, known or potential rate of error (how likely is it that something can or will screw up?); fourth, standards and controls (does somebody other than the expert determine when someone is doing this right?); and finally, "general acceptance in the scientific community."

Later, the Court said that these aren't exhaustive or dispositive, so courts are still left going, what the hell is "science that's science?"

The real bugaboo is "general acceptance," and it's this that worries me. Let me explain. In Kitzmiller, a Pennsylvania district court sternly admonished a local school board for attempting to "teach the controversy" between intelligent design and evolution. Although Judge Jones did not do a Daubert analysis to determine in that case whether intelligent design was "science that's science," someday a judge might have to do just that. Why?

In a Kitzmiller-like case, the basic problem that the fact-finder has to pass on is whether intelligent design or creationism or whatever the hell it's called by the Ministry of Truth these days is, in fact, religion or science. So how can a jury decide that? By hearing experts testify as to the scientific basis supporting the basic hypothesis of the system. In other words, the basic question in these cases is a Daubert hearing on intelligent design itself. But what happens when the creationist forces convince people who make decisions in courts of law (that would be judges and juries, for those keeping score) that the scientific community is "conspiring" unfairly to keep creationism out of the scientific discourse?

The answer, of course, is that "general acceptance" will stop meaning anything. Since courts get to decide within their discretion what constitutes "science," a judge who regards "the scientific community" as incapable of objectively examining a particular technique may admit it over the objections of scientists.

Lakoff writes about "strategic initiatives," efforts on one front that cascade down to create more favorable conditions for future battles. Tort reform is the classic example - in addition to immediately making life easier for corporations, it cuts into the revenue streams of plaintiff's lawyers, who tend to support Democrats, making it more difficult to undo tort reform.

Expelled itself may represent one prong of a strategic initiative. What's the cascade, you ask, and the long term goals? The long-term goal, quite frankly, is a reversal of court decisions that have forced public schools to get out of the churching business. By introducing into the mainstream this idea of an "atheist conspiracy," they suggest that there really is no way to determine the validity of their ideas by reference to any sort of outside measure.

In other words, our ideas are valid because we say they are, and any efforts to suggest otherwise are just part of a conspiracy to shut us up and shut us out.

And that's a scary thing - because once you say that Daubert doesn't apply because the relevant community is literally attempting to suppress a valid idea, you imply that there is no such thing as "science that's science." At that point, how do we decide what experts get in? What method do we use? The current idea of "science" in law is built on the assumption that scientists, at least, can be trusted to play by their own rules, including the one that says that they evaluate each other's work without fear or favor, and based solely on the merits. When triers of fact become convinced that that assumption is false, who do you trust to decide what's science? And it's back to the 12th Century we go....

What is to be done? Bueller, Bueller...?

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Happy Birthday, William Shakespeare




Lady Justice Does Bubble Dance with Scales. Film at Eleven


In keeping with my (much) earlier post on the use of humor by judges and jurists, I follow up with a post on the use of rhyme in the writing of opinions. While I find all of these are particularly funny, it should also be noted that rhyme included as part of written opinions is frowned upon by the bar. It has not deterred jurists from rhyming anyway. As the author of Judicial Humorist: A Collection of Judicial Opinions and Other Frivolities put it:

Here are presented some forty occasions in which Justice has descended from her pedestal, laid aside the bandage, and done a bubble dance with the scales.

I begin with perhaps the best example of poetic justice (ahem), a bankruptcy case (In re Love, 61 B.R. 558 (Bankr. 1986)) in which the judge issued an opinion sua sponte (on his own observation, not in response to a request from a party to the case). I only include a portion for obvious reasons:

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary
Over many quaint and curious files of chapter seven lore.
While I nodded nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door,
"Tis some debtor" I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more."

Ah distinctly I recall, it was in the early fall
And the file still was small
The Code provided I could use it
If someone tried to substantially abuse it
No party asked that it be heard.
"Sua sponte" whispered a small black bird.

The bird himself, my only maven, strongly looked to be a raven.
Upon the words the bird had uttered I gazed at all the files cluttered
"Sua sponte," I recall, had no meaning; none at all.
And the cluttered files sprawl, drove a thought into my brain.
Eagerly I wished the morrow—vainly I had sought to borrow
From BAFJA, surcease of sorrow—and an order quick and plain
That this case would not remain as a source of further pain.
The procedure, it seemed plain.


This particular bit of rhyme earned its author a censure from the Kansas Supreme Court. The case involved a woman arrested for prostitution. The judge (Judge Rome) issued a memorandum opinion, a portion of which I excerpt below:

This is the saga of ___ [Doris]
Whose ancient profession brings her before us.
On January 30th, 1974,
This lass agreed to work as a whore.
Her great mistake, as was to unfold,
Was the enticing of a cop named Harold.

Yikes!!

On the other hand, one jurist has used rhyme to make an effective legal argument, and to dissent from the majority decision in a manner that got him positive attention. In Porreco v. Porreco (811 A.2d 575). Judge Eakin of the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania dissented from a majority opinion upholding the validity of a prenuptial agreement. The wife claimed that she relied on the husband’s appraisal of the value of an engagement ring, and subsequently claimed that the husband's fraud invalidated the prenup. The husband had valued the cubic zirconium engagement ring at $21,000. The majority reasoned that Mrs. Porreco could not have reasonably relied on the husband’s appraisal as the ring was in her possession and she could have appraised it herself. Judge Eakin responded:

The realities of the parties control the equation,
And here they're not comparable in sophistication;
The reasonableness of her reliance we just cannot gauge
With a yardstick of equal experience and age.
This must be remembered when applying the test
By which the "reasonable fiancee" is assessed.
She was 19, he was nearly 30 years older;
Was it unreasonable for her to believe what he told her?
Given their history and Pygmalion relation,
I find her reliance was with justification.

Or for every prenuptial, is it now a must
That you treat your betrothed with a presumptive mistrust?
Do we mean reliance on your beloved's representation
Is not justifiable, absent third party verification?
Love, not suspicion, is the underlying foundation
Of parties entering the marital relation;
Mistrust is not required, and should not be made a priority.
Accordingly, I must depart from the reasoning of the majority.

Still, this same judge, writing to resolve a case in which a woman walking her dogs (Angel and Autumn) sued the man who ran one of them down in his car, wrote as follows:

The car was coming much too close, something inside told her;
the next thing Mrs. Zangrando knew, a poodle flew over her shoulder.
To appellee this was nothing short of an unmitigated disaster;
the wingless Angel'd taken flight and ascended quickly past her.
In this brace of miniature poodles, neither one wide nor tall;
one may have been named Autumn,
but t'was Angel took the fall.

I believe that adequately summarizes the material facts of the case.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Toughest moot court ever!


But probably a lot of fun!

For three days last week, Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. heard arguments in a real court in Washington. Then he came to New York to preside over a fake one — the finals of the moot court competition at Columbia Law School.

Though he looked a little weary, Chief Justice Roberts’s questions were deft, and his wit was dry. A few of his remarks, during and after the argument, lit up a large lecture hall like summer lightning.

He talked a bit about the art of appellate argument, of which he is an acknowledged master, and he gave some hints about his judicial philosophy, which he presented as cautious and practical.

The four students who presented arguments on Thursday had been winnowed from a field of 55.

After they made their pitches, Chief Justice Roberts and the three stars of the appellate bench who sat with him gave brief critiques and then selected a winner.

Friday, April 18, 2008

Sanctity of...divorce?


I guess we should have seen this coming.

Massachusetts, at least early on, let out-of-state gay couples get married there practically for the asking. But the rules governing divorce are stricter. Out-of-state couples could go back to Massachusetts to get divorced, but they would have to live there for a year to establish residency first.

And since no other state recognizes same-sex marriages, gays and lesbians can't get divorced in their home states either. It is even more troublesome in the many states which have amended their constitutions to ban same-sex marriage.

Interestingly, it appears that in both Vermont (which recognizes civil unions) and Massachusetts, divorce rates are much lower for gay couples than straight couples, probably because many gay couples have been together for a very long time without being married. But in the few cases where divorce is sought, state court judges need some sort of solution. The Rhode Island legislature is working on legislation to give judges the power to grant divorces to same-sex couples without sanctioning gay marriage.

And yet some would rather create a legal nightmare than give an inch in the culture war. "Whatever name they want to give to it, it is a recognition of same-sex unions," said the Rev. Bernard Healey, a lobbyist for Catholic Diocese of Providence. Yes, divorce is a sacred institution that should be celebrated as God intended it - between Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.

This doesn't make any sense. The Catholic Church isn't a big fan of gays or divorce. Why not link the two?

Thursday, April 17, 2008

The sign of a rough economy


Former Attorney General Alberto Gonzales can't find a job as a lawyer, eight months after resigning in disgrace. His primary income has been from hitting the lecture circuit! Finally, a little bit of divine justice.

Asked about reports that law firms have not taken up feelers from Mr. Gonzales, Robert H. Bork Jr., a corporate communications specialist and his spokesman, said Mr. Gonzales was talking to many people about the next steps in his career. “He is considering his opportunities in law and business,” Mr. Bork said, “but after many years in public service he is considering his options carefully.”

A bit of advice to good ol' Al...you might want a better spokesman. The Bork family has a certain reputation for being pugnacious, not a great quality for someone who is trying to help you find work.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Fat-Bottomed Girls, They Make the World Go 'Round


So, I hear from lotsa people (okay, the BBC and the Huffington Post) that France's National Assembly has passed a bill to authorize prison sentences for those who advocate "extreme thinness."

I don't quite know what to make of this, myself. Speaking just for myself, and I can't believe I'm writing this on a blog my MOTHER reads, I don't understand the impetus toward "attractive" meaning "capable of falling through a crack in the floor." Me, I, uh, like more "voluptuous" women.

Hi, Mom. Boy, that's probably like...never mind.

So, French anti-anorexia efforts. Surely I've got something not-so-flip to say....

The truth is that I'm not entirely clear on French "free speech" doctrine. It appears that hate speech is banned, leading to absurd (to American thinking) results like a French court ordering Yahoo! to block French users from auction sites selling Nazi memorabilia, although there are allegations (I don't know how credible) that the anti-hate laws are selectively enforced, with "hate speech" against Islam and Islamic countries tolerated. However, France does exert some serious controls over the press by subsidizing journalism and requiring journalists to register. They also ban the publication of pictures of suspects in handcuffs and "scenes that may jeopardize a victim's dignity," whatever that means. (The above paragraph mostly from here.)

So, France doesn't have the tradition of open debate and the "marketplace of ideas" that we cherish over here. It's a choice. I'll be frank and say it's not one that I would have chosen, but it's a choice and I don't get to make it for France.

My biggest problem is the fact that France seems to just operate on this idea that "everybody knows" what these vague terms mean. Anglo-American law lives and dies by definitional precision, and France, which is a civil law country, should know better. Jurisprudentially, civil law countries are more positivist (that is, law is made, not discovered - there is no "natural law"). That's not to say that there isn't a natural civil law system - just that the nature of the system (by making rules that are applied to cases, rather than gleaning rules from cases as they arise), that the law is more positivist. Positivism requires that you reach an agreed-upon definition for your terms. Without agreed-upon terms, you don't know what law you're making.

And that's really my only problem. I applaud France's efforts to combat anorexia - it's a problem that kills (whether the National Assembly has their PRIORITIES straight is a different question - are eating disorders really the most important problem facing France?), but in the United States this law would be void for vagueness and overbreadth on its face. I'm left concerned that France, first, may simply be driving the problem underground (how do we know who needs help if they never speak up?); and second, that the law may be used to pursue those who are, rather than "extremely thin," merely "very thin," or "thick just around the ankles," or wherever the HELL a French court draws that line.

Until then, lest I be made to answer in France for my words, I'll leave you with this:

Retarded state legislation: California edition


As Justice Brandeis said, state legislatures are the "laboratories of democracy." Well in some cases, a well-intentioned laboratory can produce a Frankenstein monster. This is the third time the Dicta has bestowed this honor on the great State of California. Congratulations!

BILL NUMBER: SCR 106
INTRODUCED BY Senators Romero (and dozens of other idiots)

This measure would recognize April 23, 2008 as "Denim Day California" and would encourage everyone to wear jeans on that day to help communicate the message that there is no excuse for, and never an invitation to, rape.

Whoa! Wait a second? Who thinks that wearing jeans is an invitation to rape? Was that covered in a fifth grade sex education class that I missed? I suppose my teacher must have said: "OK, class. The cafeteria is serving fish sticks for lunch tomorrow. But before we go, I want you to know that if she's wearing jeans, no actually doesn't mean no."

WHEREAS, In 1999, the Italian Supreme Court overturned the conviction of a man who sexually assaulted an 18 year old woman after the court determined that, "because the victim wore very, very tight jeans, she had to help him remove them, and by removing the jeans it was no longer rape but consensual sex"; and

WHEREAS, Enraged by the court decision, within a matter of hours the women in the Italian Parliament launched into immediate action and protested by wearing jeans to work; and

WHEREAS, the men in the Italian Parliament then had themselves a pretty fun day at work; and

WHEREAS, Both events are intended to draw attention to the fact that rape and sexual assault remain serious issues in our society; and

WHEREAS, nothing conveys seriousness better than this bulls^%* piece of legislation; now therefore be it

Resolved by the Senate of the State of California, the Assembly thereof concurring, That the Senate of the State of California, the Assembly thereof concurring, hereby recognize April 23, 2008, as "Denim Day California" and encourage everyone to wear jeans (great, so the men are going to get raped too. Please don't tell the Italian consulate in Los Angeles or anyone in San Francisco about this day...) and be it further

Resolved, That the Secretary of the Senate transmit copies of this resolution to the author for distribution well-deserved mocking on the Interweb.

P.S. I wonder what Gov. Schwarzenegger's take is on this bill. He's such a leader in this policy area...

Friday, April 11, 2008

The perfect follow up


...to yesterday's post. From the WSJ Law Blog:

The Scalia Roadshow continued yesterday when Nino took questions from a group of really smart students from Thomas Jefferson High School for Science and Technology.

To queries about his youth, Scalia said that, while a student at Xavier High School in Manhattan, he played the French horn, was on the junior varsity rifle team, and played Macbeth in a high school play, terming his mastery of Shakespeare’s tragedy “significant.”

Well this brings a couple quotes to mind:
  • "Out, damned spot! out, I say!" See, e.g., FEC v. Wisconsin Right to Life, 551 U.S. ___ (2007) (SCALIA, J., dissenting)("This faux judicial restraint is judicial obfuscation").

  • "If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me." See Bush v. Gore, 531 U.S. 98 (2000).

And Scalia also told the high school kids: “I am not a moralist-in-chief … (nor an) ayatollah who is supposed to tell America what its morality should be.” REALLY? Did he even read the opinion he wrote in Lawrence?

Today’s opinion is the product of a Court, which is the product of a law-profession culture, that has largely signed on to the so-called homosexual agenda, by which I mean the agenda promoted by some homosexual activists directed at eliminating the moral opprobrium that has traditionally attached to homosexual conduct.

Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

What's worse than citing foreign law? Citing Shakespeare


The good folks over at Concurring Opinions have previewed a new article that will be soon be published in my favorite law journal, the Green Bag. Prof. Todd Henderson of the University of Chicago has investigated the extent to which works of literary fiction are cited in appellate court decisions. Here are some of his findings:

  • The most frequently cited authors are "George Orwell (61 citations); William Shakespeare (35); Franz Kafka (34); John Milton (20); Homer, Chaucer, and Oscar Wilde (14 each)."
  • "In the Seventh Circuit, Judges Posner and Easterbrook combined for nearly all citations to fiction, and over 80 percent of all references to George Orwell."
  • "[O]f the 110 Supreme Court justices who have served, only 21 have ever cited to the authors or works in this survey. The leading Supreme Court fiction citers are Justices Douglas, Stevens, Brennan, and Rehnquist, each of whom has cited to fiction around five times. These four justices account for almost 50 percent of all Supreme Court citations to fiction."
  • "[J]ustices appointed by Democrats or with an otherwise liberal voting record made almost 80 percent of all literary citations."
  • "In the Supreme Court, nearly three-quarters of literary citations are in dissenting or concurring opinions (63 percent in dissenting; 27 percent in majority; and 10 percent in concurring). In the circuit courts, by contrast, the reverse is largely true, with about 64 percent in majority opinions and 36 percent in dissenting and concurring opinions."
We Democrats are such latte-drinking elitists, we always want to show off our good grades in English class. And Justice Brennan? He wrote so many dissenting opinions, he probably ran out of good material. He had to rely on citing fiction. None of this comes as a surprise to me, except maybe the last finding.

Once again, the Green Bag rocks!

Monday, April 07, 2008

Funny legal words


Courtesy of The Billable Hour. Buy their stuff!

Friday, April 04, 2008

Another great case name


United States v. Rayburn House Office Building Room 2113

Confused? This is yet another example of an "in rem" action, in which the government is attempting to justify the seizure of an asset. And the asset is listed as one of the parties to the action. Don't ask me why...

This case is interesting for reasons other than its cool name; it also involves an interesting question around the separation of powers doctrine. The occupant of Rayburn 2113 is Rep. William Jefferson, who is facing federal corruption charges - bribery and money laundering (this charge should be read literally - Jefferson kept $90,000 hidden in his freezer. Why? Well, money has a tendency to wilt in the summer heat and humidity).

The Supreme Court denied cert. on an appeal by the Bush Administration to keep the papers they seized when the FBI made an unprecedented raid of Jefferson's House office. According to the New York Times:

Without comment, the justices let stand a ruling by a federal appeals court that the Constitution provides members of Congress with a “nondisclosure privilege” that was violated by the search of Representative William J. Jefferson’s Congressional office.

At issue was the Constitution's Article I guarantee of freedom of speech and debate for members of Congress - "for any speech or debate in either House," a member of Congress "shall not be questioned in any other place." The Bush Administration argued that this raid was not aimed as reprisal for any of Rep. Jefferson's votes or speeches and that a broad interpretation of the "speech and debate" clause could turn Congress into "a sanctuary for crime."

It is not an unreasonable argument, though any charge of corruption usually involves an exchange of money for votes. But I think you need to balance the need for a criminal investigation to proceed against the privacy of members of Congress. Fortunately, the Justice Department is working with the Congress to avoid showdowns like this in the future and take a more collaborative approach to future corruption investigations.

So the papers seized from the House raid will not be used as evidence in Jefferson's trial. But there is still the $90,000 in the freezer. Only a lawyer like Johnny Cochran could explain away that nasty little detail.

Tuesday, April 01, 2008

Take me out to the ball game



Some of you may know that I am a little nuts when it comes to baseball. I think it is altogether fitting and proper that Opening Night came one week after Easter. They are both religious holidays in my life. The Nationals unveiled a new ball park on Sunday. And it was a gem of a ballgame. Third baseman Ryan Zimmerman hit a walk-off homer in the bottom of the 9th with two outs. It was almost a surreal experience. You can kind of see me in this picture. I am one of the tiny dots in right center field just below the scoreboard.

I was motivated to write about baseball because of an excellent post written by the good folks over at Above the Law. I'm not sure why lawyers and academics tend to be baseball fans, but there is a rich history and tradition of baseball being the subject of law review articles. For those of you who have access to Westlaw or JSTOR, I encourage you to check out 123 U. Pa. L. Rev. 1474, which is entitled The Common Law Origins of the Infield Fly Rule. According to Above the Law, this article "has developed a cult following."

For you non-baseball fans out there, the infield fly is designed to counteract a major advantage that infielders have on defense. The rule applies when there are runners on first and second or the bases are loaded and there are less than two outs. In that situation, if there is a fly ball that is hit that an infielder can catch with "ordinary effort" the batter is automatically declared to be out and the runners can stay on their bases.

Why is this important? Because without this rule, the infielder could intentionally drop the fly ball and turn a double play because the runners would be close to their bases (for fear of being caught off base if the fly ball were caught).

Since baseball was invented, baseball rules have been stretched as far as possible to help a team win. For instance, players used to be able to substitute in and out of the game by notifying the umpire of their intention. Above the Law cites a story in the UPenn article of a player who "inserted himself into the game when a ball was already in the air to catch a pop fly that was out of the reach of any of his teammates."

The UPenn article also uses a footnote to define the word "the" when he uses the word for the first time. When he used "the" the second time, he inserted another footnote which read, "Note 1, supra." It would have been perfect for the Green Bag, but alas it was written before that fine journal was invented.

For those of you who do not have access to Westlaw or JSTOR, you can go here to read an even more humorous article about the contributions the infield fly rule has made to Western civilization from a 2006 edition of the Northwestern Law Review. Here is a brief excerpt from the section on the infield fly during the Enlightenment:

Lefty Leibniz, hotshot reliever for the Hanover Huns, famously proclaimed after chug-a-lugging seven straight steins of Erfahrung Extragewichtig Pilsner that this was the best of all possible worlds. Some time later he was brought in from the bullpen to face the Paris Polysémiques. It was the bottom of the ninth, the score was tied, there was one out, and the Sémics had the bases loaded with Denny “the Dip” Diderot hugging third, “Jay-Jay” Rousseau cheating off second, and “the Baron” Montesquieu taking a wide lead off first. Tensions reached the boiling point. The batter, Voltaire, muttered curses at Leibniz in pidgin French. Leibniz shrugged them off, pumped, shook, and heaved. Voltaire swung for the seats but only managed to pop the ball up high over the mound. The umpire was yelling something as Leibniz allowed the ball to bounce, then deftly flipped it to the third baseman who threw to second, apparently executing a double play. The umpire yelled “Infield fly—one out only.” “What do you mean?” Leibniz yelled back. “Can’t you count up to two?” Meanwhile Diderot took advantage of the distraction to run home, scoring the winning run.

I hope you enjoy the coming baseball season as much as I will. Unless you're a Yankees fan, in which case I wish you nothing but pain. Sorry, but as the son of a Bostonian, I am contractually obligated to write that.