Banging the same old drum

Some time ago, I ranted about the UK approach towards legal highs. They have recently been the subject of fresh, fervent and once again (in my opinion) misplaced discussion. This time, the drug of choice is Meow Meow. Once again, I am not sure the right reaction to this little kitty is to try and drown in in the river of legislation.

The government reaction has predictably been outrage, indignant opposition and calls to ban the new high. Quelle surprise. In fact some have been so ignorant as to label it "one of the most dangerous drugs in circulation". I hardly think so, given for example heroin.

I stand by me earlier analysis; that criminalisation will have the opposite effect and may even cause usage to rise. Take a look at the Isle of Man.

Apparently however, the UK government will still insist on banging the same old moral panic drum. I don't know about you, but I think it's time for a change of tune, preferably to one that actually solves the problem, not sweeps it under the carpet in a short-lived moral-outrage-driven action.

Where does the time go?

I have twice started, and then abandoned, a post about recent events. Why? I bored myself with my ranting on about exams in a long winded fashion. Dull! And it has yet again been too long since I posted!

So, I'll try something a little different.



And finally, something to make you smile

Eat, sleep, do exams

I am increasingly aware my blawgging this year has become sporadic, to put it mildly. Now that I am once more clawing back some small semblance of organisation into my life, I will start to post as often as I had hoped. For now, on with the splurge that is my ramblings...

Exams have started to appear with worrying rapidity into my otherwise already busy calendar, leaving me with the prospect of a few weeks propped on coffee, junk food and a pitiful quantity of sleep. If only I can stop the BVC from expanding my wasteline even further, I will not count the year as a total loss.

Chastened by recent poor marks in an opinion mock (gulp), a further poor attempt at drafting (robbed I say, robbed!) and the impending release of the papers on Thursday, I find my waking hours filled with concerns as to my upcoming performance. Hopefully my last few sessions of dedicated note taking mixed with blissful self-deprecation (I was recently banned from a library for full blown flagellation, so decided to tone it down) will leave me swimming in the tranquil waters of the mid-VC.

However, these concerns must exit stage left, for it is my negotiation exam tomorrow. 2 hours of tense reading, writing on the evil that is carbon copy paper, followed by 20 minutes of the cut and thrust of negotiation. I still find the whole process artificial, and like many, difficult to really prepare for. Whilst the overall topic is released a week in advance, there is little to do save brush up on the law and print out a few choice notes. The whole experience of the negotiation exam is an odd one; it feels like spending a week reading books and taking notes before being given two hours to climb to the top of a hill and spend 20 minutes wrestling over a pile of someone else's cash.

Lets hope there's at least jelly involved somewhere.

Is it rude to pack a spoon?

Ladies and Gentlemen....

Roll up, roll up!

The circus is about to begin!

See this year's contenders bear their souls for the ultimate prize!

Watch as the yearly royal rumble begins. Who will survive? Who has done enough? Who will be victorious, and who will lay exhausted and broken in the gutter of despair?

Only time will tell! Place your bets at the door!

How you'll laugh, how you'll cry, how you'll whoop with excitement!

Ladies and Gentlemen, it's that time of year again. Once a year, every year!

Pupillage applications have arrived.





Popcorn, anyone?

Scraping by

So, the exam results are in. The inevitable conclusion was that perhaps I need to work a bit harder. Whilst I certainly won't sneer at a VC for 3 of my 4 subjects, including the all important advocacy, they were disappointingly at the lower end of the spectrum. The one C I have so far obtained has left me concerned, particularly with the fact that drafting and opinion I find difficult. If nothing else, surviving the first exam period by the skin of my teeth ought to serve as a much needed kick up the proverbial.



Term 2 has already got worryingly under way, giving me the the joys of witness handling and negotiation to chew on. Luckily I seem to have at least some natural ability at witness handling. I am already growing to love the feeling of being on my feet, backing a class mate into an inescapable corner. Once again, having a good group makes a huge difference to the learning process. Having witnesses who are prepared to deviate wildly from the script as their closet-Thespian claws for freedom, eff, blind, talk inanely, try intensely to extract a snigger from your thin professional veneer and generally make the process as taxing as possible certainly forces you to bring out the best. That or gibber quietly as your brain tries agonisingly to coax the procedure for inconsistent statement out of the dark and cobwebby reaches of the mind, whilst the tutor stares deploringly at your quivering form.

Negotiation on the other hand is tedious, artificial and treated by many as a bit of a joke. Once the painful artificiality of the situation is overcome, it still remains ludicrous to reach a negotiation based on pre-determined lowest offers from 2 students, neither of whom is particularly willing to back down in case they breach their written "plan" and destroy their marks.

Now to return to my weekely ritual of completing the item marked as "work I really should have done during the week".

To coin a misquote, "Lead on, Macduff"

Deceit Cookies

Ok, so term one was over, the holidays were ahead of me, looking to be filled in characteristic fashion a frantic mix of revision, sleeping and things I probably shouldn't have been doing when I had so much revision to do. All in all, a fairly standard affair.

The exam, as they are want to do, loomed ominously ahead of me. Given the (oh so justifiable) expenditure on the course that is the BVC, I thought that I really ought to try and do well. So I settled to the post festive spending season with with uncharacteristic fervour,. Considering myself not to be at home to Mr Cockup, I crammed, noted, studied and squinted until I felt prepared. I took the mock, racing through the questions like a hot knife through butter, and tallied up more score.

Damn.

Apparently I knew nothing, and so I returned to the drawing board for round two. It was then my coffee addled brain received a confidence boost. Sitting, surrounded by the detritus of the ritual takeaway, I cracked open the fortune cookies supplied to sneer scornfully at their superstitious scribbles. Low and behold, I was greeted with the following:

"You will pass a difficult test that will make you happy"

Questionable English aside, this small act of clairvoyances was at least close to the money. Not bad for a fortune cookie. Onto number two.

"You should think before you answer questions on Thursday".

Thursday was my exam day. I was, I must confess, at least slightly disturbed by this point. Not being the superstitious type, I was at least amazed by the chance involved in the presence of these particular two sayings, in my bag of sweet, free, crunchy goodness.

The exam day came and went, despite the best efforts of the snow to postpone the impending event.

It did not go well.

Apparently, I had been deceived by the cookies! These biscuity soothsaying deserts had led me astray! I had been misled by confectionery!

Shrugging my poor performance aside, term began once more. Hoping for a pick-me-up, I waited eagerly for the return of my mock drafting exercise.

It did not have the desired effect.

Ah, Mr Cockup. We have the penthouse room available. I'll have your bags sent up, along with my self-respect, immediately.

Oddy

I am assessed....

Tomorrow, weather permitting, is the 3 hour long slog that is the multiple choice test on civil and criminal so far.

It's fair to say.... I'm bricking it.