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I have an urgent question for any Lawyer type posters here.

If you're a lawyer or are educated in "libel" type law, I need to speak with you post haste. This is serious. Please PM, call or text me: 801-641-7641.

Thanks in advance,

Dave.

I've been waiting for you to respond to the novel I'm writing. . . . thinking maybe you want to make it a campaign piece. . . .

I like to listen to Handel on the Law, so I know it all. Litigation is a machine you enter as a pig, and come out of as a sausage. It doesn't matter what people say about you, if only they spell your name right. Laugh at it, like you usually do.

Judges are a great study. I've analyzed enough of them in my time, and there's a few things I can say about them. They improve their golf a lot while they are judges, and they have clerks who read everything submitted to the court and who write a two paragraph synopsis and make the judgment before it's handed over to the judge. The reason you stand up when the judge comes into his court is because he is God, and nobody can tell him anythng, except his clerks. The most important thing you can do to improve your case is to sit down and shut up. Let the other side annoy him all they want.

And, whatever I wrote, it's fiction.

you'd make a good main character in my novel. . . well, with everything shifted around to make you unrecognizable, that is. . . . just the kernel notion of an irreverent fun-loving boy running the town. . . . that's what would make it all worthwhile. Someone who knows the score on everything people do for "fun". Who still goes to priesthood meeting on Sunday.

Frankly, I'm surprised they haven't asked you to be a bishop yet. . . . . or have they?
 
I've been waiting for you to respond to the novel I'm writing. . . . thinking maybe you want to make it a campaign piece. . . .

I like to listen to Handel on the Law, so I know it all. Litigation is a machine you enter as a pig, and come out of as a sausage. It doesn't matter what people say about you, if only they spell your name right. Laugh at it, like you usually do.

Judges are a great study. I've analyzed enough of them in my time, and there's a few things I can say about them. They improve their golf a lot while they are judges, and they have clerks who read everything submitted to the court and who write a two paragraph synopsis and make the judgment before it's handed over to the judge. The reason you stand up when the judge comes into his court is because he is God, and nobody can tell him anythng, except his clerks. The most important thing you can do to improve your case is to sit down and shut up. Let the other side annoy him all they want.

And, whatever I wrote, it's fiction.

you'd make a good main character in my novel. . . well, with everything shifted around to make you unrecognizable, that is. . . . just the kernel notion of an irreverent fun-loving boy running the town. . . . that's what would make it all worthwhile. Someone who knows the score on everything people do for "fun". Who still goes to priesthood meeting on Sunday.

Frankly, I'm surprised they haven't asked you to be a bishop yet. . . . . or have they?

As someone who has been a federal clerk, it is clear you have never been a federal clerk.
 
Frankly, I'm surprised they haven't asked you to be a bishop yet. . . . . or have they?

Not yet, but they made me a missionary a while back, and now I'm in the EQ presidency. I live next door to the 2nd counselor in the bishopric, and I make it a point to curse out loud at least once a week from my garage or yard, just to make sure he knows that I'm not suitable "higher calling" material.
 
Not yet, but they made me a missionary a while back, and now I'm in the EQ presidency. I live next door to the 2nd counselor in the bishopric, and I make it a point to curse out loud at least once a week from my garage or yard, just to make sure he knows that I'm not suitable "higher calling" material.

That can backfire my friend. You might be viewed as needing it to help focus your spirituality. Bishopric (not actual bishop thank all that is holy) is the only calling I have ever turned down outright. Came at a very bad time in my life, and I knew it was a recipe for disaster.

And don't forget J. Golden Kimball, my all-time favorite apostle.

"J. Golden" stories have become a type of folklore for members of the LDS Church. One of the best known has Church President Grant writing a "clean" radio speech for Kimball and ordering him to read it. However, once on the air, Kimball struggled with Grant's handwriting and finally exclaimed, Hell, Heber, I can't read this damn thing. Most of these stories are apocryphal—he didn't live long enough to have done and said all of the things attributed to him—but some of the most amusing were actually true, and others were probably true.

Classic.
 
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Not yet, but they made me a missionary a while back, and now I'm in the EQ presidency. I live next door to the 2nd counselor in the bishopric, and I make it a point to curse out loud at least once a week from my garage or yard, just to make sure he knows that I'm not suitable "higher calling" material.


I've known of cases where this strategy backfired. . . . .

at least half of the thinking behind a "call" is to help a person in need decide to live up to their calling. . . . two of the other halves are the desperate search for someone who has some personality. . . .
 
J. Golden was the bomb.com, and a man after my own heart.

You'd like Joseph Smith too.

One of my favorites JS epics, retold in my own words as only I can spin things right. . . .

In Missouri when there was an alarm about some roving mobs on a rage to run the Mormons out, one Sunday morning a couple of hundred younger Mormon men were assembled, waiting for the call to action, in a church. Cleaning their rifles, checking their ammo, restless. . . . . Some decided to play some games, some sort of hooting fun for sheer relief. . . . Joseph Smith joined in, playing with the boys.

In strode Sydney Rigdon, the Mormon version of the SNL Church Lady, with a wrinkle in his nose and a righteous fury in his voice, commanding them to keep the Sabbath Day holy. Joseph Smith rose from the floor and grabbed Sydney's Sunday Suit by the lapels, ripping one in the process, and plainly told him to get the hell outta Dodge. . . . and shoved him out the door.
 
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