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 hundreds tens of millions of people could be exposed.  But Google and Viacom said they were working to hoping 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 hundreds tens 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.

The court’s order can be found here.

ADDENDUM: The Times has revised the text of the quoted portion of the article from when I viewed it earlier.  I’ve indicated appropriate changes above.

NOTE (JULY 13): See here for updates.

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 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.

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.”

Watch CBS Videos Online

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.

According to The Today Show:

The “fire in the hole” prank is popular on YouTube, and even today it’s not hard to find plenty of examples there. But [victim Jessica] Ceponis didn’t know that then; she thought it was a personal attack on her. Then a co-worker told her that it was a video prank that was posted online, first on a prank site and then on YouTube.

Ceponis went from feeling victimized to being very angry. She viewed the video and tracked one of the boys to his MySpace site, where she befriended him. She eventually found out where he lived and called his mother, who gave her the name of the other boy.

Thanks to Ceponis’ detective work, both boys were charged with assault as juveniles and were ordered to perform 100 hours of community service, pay the Taco Bell restaurant where Ceponis worked for the costs of cleaning up the mess, and post an apology video on YouTube.

There’s no doubt that the instant notoriety of YouTube and other Web 2.0 sites can encourage those wanting their 15 minutes of fame.  But it also shows that victims might use those same sites to track down wrongdoers.

What about the shaming aspect of this case, i.e., the mandatory YouTube apology, found here?  I understand why the teens — as juveniles — weren’t ordered to show their names or faces.  But it’s hard to see how anonymous YouTube apologies serve much in the way of either specific or general deterrence.

Note: BOGO means “buy one, get one free.”

New Year’s Resolution: catching up on my blogging. Along those lines, my St. Thomas colleague Fred Light brought to my attention last term to an interesting administrative order from the United States District Court for the Southern District of Florida.

The order, entitled In re: Cellular Phone and Electronic Equipment Usage in the Courthouse, addresses legitimate concerns over the presence and use of cell phones — and particularly camera phones — in the courtroom. It designates persons who can bring cell or camera phones to court but warns that “[n]o cellular phones of any kind may be used in a courtroom or jury deliberations room and no photographs of any kind may be taken in any federal courthouse facility.” Penalties for violations include 30 days in jail and/or a fine of $5000 and/or punishment for contempt of court.

Woe to the first person in a Miami courtroom whose Motorola Razr blares out Iron Butterfly’s In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida as a ringtone.

Thanks to dreamingyakker at Flickr, who licensed the photo through this Creative Commons license.

Although Labcorp v. Metabolite was dismissed last week, in this morning’s order list, the Supreme Court granted certiorari in KSR v. Teleflex (No. 04-1350, docket here). Previous commentary at Patently-O. The issue is the obviousness test used by the Federal Circuit in patent cases. This promises to be a major case.

Decision here. Discussion at Patently-O here.