I’ve written previously about judges using limericks in their opinions. Here’s another. The ABA Journal notes that U.S. District Judge Ronald B. Leighton found a plaintiff’s 465-page complaint to violate Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 8(a)‘s requirement that a complaint contain “a short and plain statement” of the plaintiff’s claim. Noting Lord Polonius’ line in Hamletthat“brevity is the soul of wit,” Judge Leighton stated that “[b]revity is also the soul of a pleading.” He concluded with a limerick:
Plaintiff has a great deal to say,
But it seems he skipped Rule 8(a),
His Complaint is too long,
Which renders it wrong,
Please re-write and re-file today.
Hat tip to my St. Thomas colleague Fred Light for sending this to me.
The order raised concerns among users and privacy advocates that the online video viewing habits of hundredstens of millions of people could be exposed. But Google and Viacom said they were working tohoping to come up with a way to protect the anonymity of YouTube viewers., and
Viacom said that the information would be safeguarded by a protective order restricting access to the data to outside advisors, who will use it solely to press Viacom’s $1 billion copyright suit against Google.
It’s good that some steps are being taken to limit the use of the information. But why is Google collecting and retaining so much information? Maybe there’s business value in keeping it, but there’s also business value in not angering hundredstens of millions of users. Google’s apparent taste for data retention risks a well-deserved loss of goodwill. (Or considering people’s wayward attitudes towards privacy, perhaps not.) I recognize that some information must be retained for a variety of reasons. But the more unnecessary information you keep, the more likely somebody you didn’t envision — a wayward employee, a hacker, or even worse, an adverse litigant — will find a use for it you didn’t want.
Continuing this week’s Civil Procedure and golf themes, a judge from the Eastern District of Pennsylvania dismissed a third-party complaint because it was filed by the defendants too late and without court permission. Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 14 states that a defending party filing a third-party complaint “must, by motion, obtain the court’s leave if it files the third-party complaint more than 10 days after serving its original answer.” Here, the defendants filed their third-party complaint more than five months after they answered, and without first seeking leave of court.
The defendants’ names? Limerick Golf Club, Inc. and Limerick Golf Club Estates, Inc. (collectively, “Limerick”). Concluding that Limerick didn’t justify the late filing, Judge Berle M. Schiller dismissed their third-party complaint. Stating that Limerick’s “sub-par performance occurred in the pleading stage of this case and not on the golf course,” the court closed with a rhyme:
With arguments hard to resist,
The movant correctly insists,
His joinder was tardy,
And so the third party
Complaint is hereby dismissed.
Hat tip to Law.com for the story and where you can find additional details on the suit. Court’s opinion here.
In legal circles, Senior First Circuit Judge Bruce M. Selya is well-known for the broad and arcane vocabulary that he uses in his opinions, branded by many as “Selyaisms.” Legal Blog Watch notes that in the late 1980’s, one of Selya’s clerks had a word-a-day calendar and that he and his co-clerks “tried to see who could successfully plant the day’s word in a published Selya opinion.”
In a copyright opinion issued last Friday, Judge Selya opined that a party’s counterclaims “assert[ed] copyright infringement and a gallimaufry of other federal and state-law causes of action. ” (Emphasis added.)
Gallimaufry. Merriam-Webster Online states that it’s of Middle French origin and means “hodgepodge.” In the context of pleading, what a wonderful word. Of course, the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure were intended to permit liberal joinder of claims and defenses. Thus, the Rules (such as Rules 8 and 18) were designed with hodgepodgery in mind, subject to limits such as those in Rule 11. Thus, to an extent, the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure are Federal Rules of Gallimaufry.
CBS is now streaming the original Star Trek series for free on its website. Even better, CBS is now providing code to permit episodes of Trek and many other series to be embedded on websites and blogs. Very cool, and a good step in the direction being taken by others such as Hulu, and soon, ABC.
Here’s the episode Court Martial, first airing Feb. 2, 1967. Kirk’s being court-martialed for the death of a member of his crew. The most damning evidence is a computer video log that seems to conclusively prove Kirk’s guilt. The prosecutor says she will present the case as “Kirk vs. The Computer.”
Enter Kirk’s lawyer, Samuel T. Cogley, who distrusts computers and surrounds himself with his beloved law books. Around 13 minutes into the episode, you can see Cogley surrounded by what looks like copies of United States Reports and case reporters from West. (Hmmm. I wonder what volume Federal Reporter will be up to by the year 2267. At a new volume every 14 years or so, West should be up to at least F.22d.)
Ultimately, digital skepticism wins the day. Mr. Spock, believing Kirk to be innocent, tests the ship’s computer. After winning a seemingly impossible five chess games in a row against the machine, Spock realizes the computer has been altered. Cogley then moves to present evidence regarding the ship’s computer. The prosecution objects. In response, Cogley argues passionately about the importance of not believing digital records blindly:
Cogley: The most devastating witness against my client is not a Human being. It’s a machine, an information system. The computer log of the Enterprise. I ask this court adjourn and reconvene aboard that vessel.
Prosecutor: I protest, Your honor!
Cogley: And I repeat, I speak of rights! A machine has none. A man must. My client has the right to face his accuser, and if you do not grant him that right, you have brought us down to the level of the machine! Indeed, you have elevated that machine above us! I ask that my motion be granted. And more than that, gentlemen. In the name of Humanity, fading in the shadow of the machine, I demand it. I DEMAND IT!
Cogley and Kirk prevail. It turns out that the “dead” man was still alive and was trying to get revenge on Kirk for an earlier incident that destroyed his career. Even in the 23rd century, computers aren’t always right.