Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Apparently not:

If this Essay serves no other purpose, I hope it serves to debunk, for any readers who persist in believing it, the myth that locking your trunk will keep the cops from searching it. Based on th number of my students who arrived at law school believing that if you lock your trunk and glove compartment, the police will need a warrant to search them, I surmise that it’s even more widespread among the lay public. But it’s completely, 100% wrong.

H/T:  Above the Law.

Link.

The abstract:

The U.S. stands on the precipice of a financial disaster, and Congress has done nothing but bicker. Of course, I refer to the coming day when the undead walk the earth, feasting on the living. A zombie apocalypse will create an urgent need for significant government revenues to protect the living, while at the same time rendering a large portion of the taxpaying public dead or undead. The government’s failure to anticipate or plan for this eventuality could cripple its ability to respond effectively, putting us all at risk.

This article fills a glaring gap in the academic literature by examining how the estate and income tax laws apply to the undead. Beginning with the critical question of whether the undead should be considered dead for estate tax purposes, the article continues on to address income tax issues the undead are likely to face. In addition to zombies, the article also considers how estate and income tax laws should apply to vampires and ghosts. Given the difficulties identified herein of applying existing tax law to the undead, new legislation may be warranted. However, any new legislation is certain to raise its own set of problems. The point here is not to identify the appropriate approach. Rather, it is to goad Congress and the IRS into action before it is too late.

Awesome.

Good News, Bad News.

The good news:

I killed my run and I remembered my password for this blog.  Take that, hackers.

The bad news:

The Koch brothers are suing Cato and, if successful, would gain majority control over the think tank. I’m stating, for the record, that I am entirely on Team Cato.

Also in bad news, Fun. has incorporated auto-tune into much of its most recent album release:  Some Nights. Why, Fun., why?

Fun with cover letters.

Cover letters. The most fun thing to write they are not.

Unless you write parody ones. Those are fun. Exhibit A, emphasis on estate planning, though I will probably have some fun with Constitutional Law later:

Dear Whatever Firm [note: this entire letter deviates in a number of ways, not limited to format, from typical cover letter decorum.],

I am a 2L at Syracuse University College of Law who is interested in your Whatever Internship. Currently, my focus is in estate planning and I would like to explain why I think I would be an asset to your Whatever Division. While, yes, I would typically begin by outlining my performance in fundamental classes such as Wills and Trusts, I would, instead, like to explain more unorthodox – but critical – reasons as to why you should hire me. Primarily, I believe I would be an asset during the zombie apocalypse and subsequent rebuilding of civilization.

Rule No. 1: Cardio.

As explained in Zombieland, a pivotal characteristic for surviving the zombie apocalypse is good physical fitness. I run a minimum of 7.5 miles a day, 5 days a week, although I generally fit in a 13-15 mile run at least twice a week. Peppered throughout this workout are sprints and light lifting. Should a zombie apocalypse occur, I am one of your best bets for survival, particularly against an enemy that does not need to, you know, breath, and can therefore withstand long chases better than most human beings. You wouldn’t want to hire a summer associate only to lose them to the fat Occupy Wallstreeter with no functional lungs, would you?

I’ve thought about this a lot. 

I have plenty of canned goods and other non-perishables. This is mostly because I can’t cook, but they also serve a survival end. I own a crowbar and a baseball bat. I know how to use both, especially having been a part of a highly competitive, state-finalist softball team back in my youth. Let’s not dive into the assortment of camp gear that I own, or that the fact I am pretty sure I could plan, execute, and survive a rescue mission on my snowboard.

I’ve also read a substantial amount of survival material, including The Zombie Survival Guide, but have similarly mapped out a myriad of survival strategies for the various situations in the following movies and books: Dawn of the Dead, 28 Days/Weeks Later, Dead Snow, Zombieland, Shaun of the Dead, The Horde and World War Z. This list should illustrate on just how many dimensions I am prepared, willing and ready to survive.

I can apply all of my estate planning knowledge the the post-apocalyptic world. 

How do you plan for your spouse, child, or other family member succumbing to the zombie violence? Who will inherit your gasoline reserve and and plank-with-a-nail? I can answer that. I can draft your will to make sure that your ex-husband will not take your poncho just because his brain happens to still work. I will ensure your portfolio will be spread across Campbell’s, Ramen and Louisville Slugger. I will find a way to make your revocable trust irrevocable upon infection even though those synapses are still firing.

The post-apocalyptic world will have the same planning needs of today even if they will manifest themselves differently. My extensive knowledge of both zombies, wills, trusts and tax law will allow me to effectively navigate each stage of this fight, and I would like to do it for [firm].

Sincerely,

ME

Author’s note:  Yes, I completely forgot this blog existed and have wiped it clean for a fresh start.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.