Cougar

Cougars are solitary cats. Besides a mother and her cubs, cougars travel alone. They are a secretive species, only seen in the wild when they want to be seen. An animal owner who enjoys spending lots of time with their pet, may not be best suited with a cougar. Also, prospective owners should be sure to know their sleeping habits because cougars are crepuscular.

The best science available suggests that cougars are more closely related to small cats than big. Which means they have the attitude of a kitty in a frame of a full size feline. And although they’re big, they are by no means bulky. Cougars are slender and agile, prime for apartments or townhouses.

One thing that sets cougars apart from the rest of the big cats is their roar. They don’t have one. Cougars hiss, growl, purr, chirp and whistle, but they can’t let it rip like Mufasa. Legend has it that they mimic the sound of a women in distress in order to lure in curious minors.

The cougar is notoriously crafty among the hunting community. Many seasoned woodsman have entered the wilderness to pursue cougar and have found that they themselves are the one being pursued. Most cougar experts agree that the best way to approach a cougar in the wild is to stand tall, look it in the eye, and talk softly. Supposedly, if you can recite lyrics from Jon Bon Jovi rock ballads ... even better.

The Tickle Closet thinks the cougar would make an excellent house cat for young singles who prefer a good deal of autonomy and are most active around dawn and dusk.

Wild Cat

The Tickle Closet is beginning a new post series entitled Wild Cat. The purpose of this series is to ponder the question: “Which wild cat makes the best house pet?” Over the next few weeks we will take a collective peek at the advantages and disadvantages of each of the large cats — cougar, jaguar, cheetah, lion, tiger, leopard — as well as the medium cats — featuring the bobcat and lynx — and finally the small cats — featuring the scottish wild cat.

At the end, whichever cat gets the most votes will be given the “Tickle Closet Best Wild Cat House Cat Award.”

Two important rules to keep in mind during this discussion. First, cats are obligate carnivores. Second, you can take the cat out of the wild ... but you can’t do it legally, unless you have a permit, which is hard to come by I imagine.

Expect the first cat in the next few days...

Supplemental Jurisdiction

This is a pretty typical representation of law school.

Also, it's probably poor form to shoot pictures from the front row with your iphone.

Don't Let the Bastard Grind You Down!

This is professor Dworkin. He teaches torts. He is not the bastard.

His class has taught me many lessons about law, life and love. Maybe not love... but i needed a third L word.

All of these lessons are from Cobbs v. Grant.

1. Procedure is everything.
In law, like in life, you can say the right thing at the wrong time and mess everything up.
2. Look out for formulaic standards, they are usually worthless.
3. There is a difference between a fact and a reason.
4. Question the ability of a concept to achieve its stated goals.
5. Words are nothing but bundles of consequences. Choose them carefully.
6. Always question authority.
7. Don't let the bastard grind you down.

The last one is my favorite because it encompasses all the others. It reinforces how absolutely essential it is to be your own person and never lose sight of what you're after. Sometimes you need to give the finger to a cop. Or maybe just blow off your homework. Boom!

Stuff It

There is a restaurant with a huge window next to my gym.

I like watching people stuff their faces while I do cardio.

It makes me feel like I am getting ahead.

Tickling the Closet

David told me to tickle the closet. I've been remiss.  Though others have certainly been worse (Phil), David (and Tommy–did you see that guy's last post?) has for too long been propping up (though quite skillfully) the prestigious reputation of this blog.

I'm going to do my best to bring this blog down to a level not quite so vaunted.

Last night I rode the train into Manhattan (though I hate cities, it is pretty exciting to be so close to the mecca of materialism–it's so sensually overwhelming). I was waiting for my train and noticed an object down near the tracks.

I couldn't really tell what the thing was, it almost looked like a raccoon that had at one point had the head and shoulders of a human (the head having been severed by the time the picture was taken). Kind of a miniature raccoon/human cross. Like a demonic gnome or something. 

While I was pondering this, Alban called me back (I had called him to celebrate the Arsenal win). We discussed the victory for a while, but then I told him about this decapitated creature. Just before he called, I had decided that they only way to properly investigate the animal was the descend to the tracks, but then had noticed a sign that said something along the lines of: "Don't you dare go down there."

So I relayed my dilemma to Alban. His response was good: "Get down there. I want a full report later." I should  have known enough to ignore signage warning me of the dangers of leaping down into a semi-enclosed space through which a train would soon be speeding, but I had a moment of weakness. For reviving my spirit of adventure, we have Alban to thank.

I promptly lept off the platform and snapped this shot (actually this is one of the shots I took from the platform, but I like it better than the one I took while I was closer...ironic?).

Note: don't click on the picture if you are faint of heart.

The most interesting thing I discovered while I was down with this creature was that it had been cleanly bisected. This was fascinating. Was it running ON one of the tracks when a train came by and sliced it in two? I don't know and I could never find the other half. 

The point of all this is that train stations in the United States are cleaner than they are in Great Britain.

 Note: though this is a train station in Great Britain from my time in England with Thomas, it's not a good example of what I'm talking about–this remote station was quite clean.

In Great Britain, they empty the bathroom contents onto the tracks at stations. I didn't hear that or read that anywhere; I was standing on the platform in England and spied a pile of fecal matter interlaced with toilet paper. No joke. Pretty gross.

Anyway, the real point to all of this is that we, as energetic young people (in body or at least spirit), ought to be willing to break some rules. Ignore signs at train stations that are trying to enforce your safety. Skip school to go to Hawaii, Obama's inauguration, Cancun, or the beaches of Southern California. Burn something down. Firebomb something. Fight the man (WWU administration... or ASWWU administration when they try to use student money to send themselves to a John Mayer concert). Vote third party. Reject materialism and passivity. Don't do your homework. Play Mario Kart. Kick over the mouse-wheel (not the computer kind, the rat race kind) of life instead of running on it. And most of all: feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, invite the stranger in, clothe the naked, and visit the prisoner.

Alone on Valentine's Day?

Happy Valentine's Day Everyone...