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The ad ban lasted sixty-nine years, until the so-called Bates Decision of 1977, in which the Supreme Court found that lawyers had a First Amendment right to advertise. Despite the ruling, the Court remained lukewarm to the prospect of its colleagues hawking their services on the open market. Supreme Court Chief Justice Warren Burger, in his 1993 essay, “The Decline of Professionalism,” said legal ads were “sickening” and called any lawyer who placed one a “huckster-shyster” of “low standing.” Harsh as this judgment might appear, it is in tune with the prevailing views of the profession. Before Bates, for example, the Bar defined legal advertising in the broadest terms. A lawyer wearing jewelry embossed with the word “lawyer,” or the use of a postage meter to stamp “Ask A Lawyer” on outgoing mail could be considered advertising, and thus forbidden. By today’s standards, these oblique promotional attempts seem quaint. Take the New York firm Fitzgerald & Fitzgerald, whose subway ads feature a fighting Irish leprechaun sporting red boxing gloves, posed next to the slogan, “We Fight For Kids With Brain Injuries!” Or the two personal injury attorneys in Fort Lauderdale who secured the telephone number 1-800-PIT-BULL for their offices. Or lawyer Frank Tedesso of Chicago, whose Yellow Pages listing urged an armed criminal wearing a balaclava to “Call 24 Hours.” Or Mark E. Seitelman’s ad for his Accident Victims specialty, which depicted a $750,000 check from the “ABC Insurance Co.” made out to “Your Name Here.” –“The Huckster,” Theodore Ross, Guernica
Many people argue that drivers, not roads, are to blame for deadly crashes. This commonly accepted point is understandable, knowing the wild and aggressive behavior of Israelis on the road, but it is fallacious. We Israelis should be asking ourselves why Israeli driving culture has deteriorated so. Like all human beings, we are broadly self-interested actors, who will modify their behaviors depending on the potential personal cost of our actions. At the moment, in Israel, there is, for whatever reason, a serious disconnect between peoples’ actions and any thought of a real, immediate consequence. –“On behalf of my family,” Bryan Atinsky, Ynetnews
In any case, those seeking a high-end look know what to ask for. It’s called “remy” hair, which is more or less synonymous with hair from India. Top salons prize it for the way it’s collected, in a single cut, which preserves the orientation of the hair’s shingle-like outer layer, and thus its strength, luster, and feel. That’s what defines remy, and that’s the reason it commands a premium price. “If you want cheap hair,” sniffs one supplier’s blog, “you’re going to get a cheap looking hairstyle.” Beyoncé wears remy hair, as do Naomi Campbell, Tyra Banks, and any Hollywood starlet who’s been within a mile of a first-class weave. “The only hair worth buying is remy,” says one of Brown’s clients, her hair wrapped around enormous curlers. “They say that it’s cut from the heads of virgins.” –“The Temple of Do,” Scott Carney, Mother Jones
How many images of Bill Clinton grace the sides of Haiti’s tap-taps?
this weekend at one South Carolina public park: a church-sponsored egg drop and a Klan rally;
a would-be hacker scares the bejesus out of anyone with a weak password
More from Rafe Bartholomew:
Years ago, I lived in Montana, a land of purple sunsets, clear streams, and snowflakes the size of silver dollars drifting through the cold air. There were no speed limits and you could legally drive drunk. My small apartment in Missoula had little privacy. In order to write, I rented an off-season fishing cabin on Rock Creek, a one-room place with a bed and a bureau. I lacked the budget for a desk. My idea was to remove a sliding door from a closet in my apartment and place it over a couple of hastily cobbled-together sawhorses.
Annual premium on a $6,000 life insurance policy for a champion German shepherd:
Astronomers discovered a pulsar called a superbubble, which spins 716 times per second.
Nigerian president Muhammadu Buhari told reporters that his wife “belonged to” his kitchen.
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“Matt was happy enough to sustain himself on the detritus of a world he saw as careening toward self-destruction, and equally happy to scam a government he despised. 'I’m glad everyone’s so wasteful,' he told me. 'It supports my lifestyle.'”