Esoteric Magazine 2009

7/29/2019 Esoteric Magazine 2009

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Table of contentsPartners in crime 3

Sonnets 6

With these eyes 7Sam marco square 8A Family vacation 9

The mist 9Potholes 10

European vacation 13Poesy 14

Horomenon is passive 15

15 The man in the moon16 Balloons

19 Ghosts at varadero20 Two goddesses21 B Line22 Legal lets23 My grandmother with cancer23 Eagle at vesuvius24A shadow of his former self25 Contributors

From the editorWe don and doff a great many hats,

adapting to meet the challenges of

ever-changing environments.

The greatest challenge, however, is

in the simultaneous and contem-

poraneous donning of several hats,

stacking the characters of our being

one on top of the other.

This is the lot we have been cast.

This is Esoteric.

I began with the notion that Esoteric

could humbly serve as an escapefrom the confines of legal exposi-

tory; as a vehicle for the cathartic re-

lease of artistic expression, in some

medium however and whatever,

expression being capable of assum-

ing nearly limitless forms.

I wanted to state this premise, that

we could transcend our legal train-

ing by our artistic endeavours, but I

could barely get the sentence onto

paper before realizing the pervasive-

ness of legal reasoning within me.

My mind sprouted immediately to

judicial treatment of Charter section

2(b). Has the law not already told

us what is expression? Has it not

already limited my proclamation of

however and whatever? The free-

dom of expression is not absolute.

Has art already been caught by the

ambit of the law, leaving me with no

basis for my initial assertions?

I recalled the obscenity provisions

of the Code, remembering that

judicial analysis has noted Art asa valid exception. Artistic merit

can circumvent these provisions,

evidencing that Art manages to

simultaneously transcend the law,

while still being defined by it. A

compelling duality.

I initially posited that we must

escape the law in order to be art-

ists. I was wrong. Esoteric is not

an escape from legal influence, it

is a celebration of our duality; our

simultaneous donning of many hats.

Inextricably linked are the law and

its practitioners, but we are not only

legal beings. We who live under

the living tree have continued our

personal growth, feeding from the

roots of our legal endeavours, but

also casting our own into the soil

of personal fulfillment. The law

sought to define art. The law sough

to define us. The world sought to

call us lawyers. We shouted back

that we are writers, photographers,poets, existential philosophers, free

thinkers. We are artists. A statute,

a precedent, a judicial opinion is but

one canvass in our minds of infinite

possibility.

I see an artist. You see a lawyer.

We are one and the same.

Eric Laxton, Editor-in-chie


4/28

Partners in crimeKyla Lee, UBC 1L

The concrete pillars prevented me from seeing the face

that was hissing the voice that climbed up those damn pil-lars and snaked around them, assessing their value and

purpose and worth. I was sitting on a leather couch with

striped cushions; eight others were identical to it, placed

conveniently throughout the great room in a manner that

allowed people to act and interact, to play out their roles

with the ease of the social dance. The lady walked toward

me, her heels snap snap snapping against the floor rhyth-

mically like the tap tap tapping of a dance. I could hear her

voice approaching, but she was always obscured by those

concrete pillars, those fucking poles creating the divide

between me and the voice, the voice of that damn ladywho was selling the law school out from under her feet.

From my vantage point on the couch, I could see her

hand that wrapped two or three times with its long bony

fingers around a pile of neon stickers shaped like cir-

cles. She held a black magic marker in the other hand

and as she talked, her voice snaked out of her dirty tight

mouth I could see her hand working deftly and swiftly.

She wrote numbers on the stickers and stuck them to

objects as she passed them. She slithered in and out of

the pillars, so I could view her and her companions only

for brief seconds as they danced in large arcs around

the interaction foyer in the main hall of the great old

concrete building. Her arms would rise as she passed

a garbage can and with a flourish would fall to land a

sticker on it, the price of which read 25cents. She passed

a fake plant that sat, covered in dust in the hallway near

the door, and marked it for a dollar. As she twirled and

tapped and whirled she started discussing the chairs.

Her sequined tuxedo tails flipped out behind her as she

leapt on to the arms of the chairs and danced around,spinning. One of the men who was with her threw her

a cane, and she stuck this between her hands, dancing a

cabaret and advertising the chairs for thirty dollars each.

A student walked past her. She stopped him with a hand

to the forehead as she spun the cane in the air, distracting

the well-dressed business men with her trickery. When

she removed her hand, the student carried on his walk, a

price affixed to his forehead. No one turned to look. She

jumped down from the chairs, which the men scrambled

over one another for. They were fat, with robust belliesand jowls and thinning grey hair. They were wearing suits

which stretched at the buttons as they rolled over and into

one another, fighting scratching for the chairs, thirty dol-

lars each. They were the fat cats o

the big firms, the heads and chees

es and pals and partners from

Borden Ladner Gervais Fraser

Milner Casgrain or somebody like

them. They bumped and bundled

into their partners in the crime

they were committing in the foyerTheir fat asses dared to break the

seam on their pants as they ben

to pick up the chairs. They lifted

the chairs high above their heads

and opened their mouths. Their

jaws dropped to the floor and they

swallowed the chairs whole, ab

sorbing them into their bodies, the shape blending into

the roly-poly mess already in their stomachs. They rolled

behind the woman as she snaked through the pillars,

coming closer to me. Their tails flicked in anticipation

The Serpentess sparkled and shimmered. Her hair was

in a tight bun on the top of her head, and her lips were

painted red. She started spinning, performing elaborate

turns and cartwheels. She wheeled and whirled, hands

high, manipulating the cane, the fat cats following behind

her, swallowing things as they went. She continued to

price objects: a magazine rack for a dime, the carpet for

ty dollars, a soda machine four-fifty. Each spin and twir

was punctuated by a high can-can kick, and I saw her legswhich were long and lean and covered by black nylons

She smiled wide and white, her red lips stretched over

her white teeth. All her venomous teeth were showing

She leaped into the air and landed in front of me with a

flourish. All behind her the fat cats rolled and tumbled

and bumbled and lumbered into place. They plopped

their asses on the concrete floor, for one of them had

already handed over a wad of bills and consumed the

She smiled

wide and

white, her

red lips

stretched

over herwhite teeth.

All her

venomous

teeth were

showing.


5/28

carpet that was beneath them. They wobbled and wiggled

and weebled and bubbled about before settling into po-

sition. The woman, the dancer, the announcer, the Ser-

pentess had been spinning in a stationary blur the entire

time they had been seating themselves. They applauded

her, and the fat on their plump fingers jiggled as they

clapped their hands together. They laughed and burped

and huffed and breathed heavy, full of pieces of furniture

and mouthfuls of the building. One of them reached outhis hand and ripped a hunk of concrete from a near-

by pillar. He shoved it into his mouth and crunched

on it like popcorn. The others began to do the same.

Suddenly, the lights went out. It was dark for a moment

and there was nothing to punctuate it besides the sound

of the fat cats as they munched and crunched away on

the building. A few students gathered in the crowd, but

they didnt stay long because the fat men from the big

firms began to eat them, too. They ate everything, con-suming it with a fervor and a fever. Then, a spotlight

turned on and the Serpentess was illuminated in front of

me, the fat cats around her in a semi-circle as she raised

her hands to the sky, clutching the cane. She brought

them down in a powerful motion and threw the cane

from her left hand directly into the mouth of a fat man

in the audience who swallowed it without even noticing.

And now, Gentlemen, I offer you this chance of a lifetime.

This is the moment you have all been waiting for. This is it.

La piece de resistance! The moment and reason you all camehere today. Up until now you have only had a mere taste

of what is to come but now you are offered the rst chance

at true wonder and splendor. Can I get a drumroll please?

From somewhere in the back, shrouded in dark-

ness, came the sound of a drum, softly at first

then louder and louder. The Serpentess raised

her hands and punched the sky with her fists.

Thats right Gentlemen, now is time to start the bidding on these

glorious deluxe fantastic couches right here. Perhaps one day you

yourselves were seated on these very couches! Did your hopes and

dreams and legal needs soak into these striped green cushions? Did

you ever hope of one day earning back all those tears you shed, all

that sweat you dripped into your hard-earned careers? Well heres

your chance, boys! Today only, bid your highest, fattest, roundest

bids to win the chance to once again own a piece of your own history

And what a discount are you getting today, Gentlemen, for you

are great friends to this Law School and we mean to offer you only

the best of prices and bargain deals. These couches cost a thou-

sand dollars each, can you believe it? But today we are starting

the bidding at-- you guessed it-- one hundred dollars each. This

is an as-is sale, Gentlemen, the couches are going exactly as you

see them here and now! Take them today or take them never. Thisis a once-in-a-lifetime chance to try a piece of history before tim

consumes and changes and holds and owns it! Gentlemen, take

out your fat wallets with fat wads of cash and place your bids

The fat hands shot into the air and the flab jiggled but-

tery on their arms as they did so. The men pushed and

pulled and fought each other, scrambling to get the mon

ey, brown hundred dollar bills, into the upturned topha

of the Serpentess, as she assigned a couch to each. She

started by pointing at the farthest away, and a large man

rolled on his side down there. He pulled a lobster bib

from his pocket and set to work on it. He ate it slowly, sa

voring each bite. His hands caressed the leather and fab

ric as it moved into his mouth. He chewed with big, slow

open bites and I could see the fibers as they were crushed

by his yellowed and crooked teeth, mixing with his saliva

and then being swallowed. He ate the whole couch as

the others watched, staring in a mixture of awe and envy

The next couch went to another of the fat men who

waddled over to it. Two of his partners lifted it for himand he laid on the floor with his moth open. The part

ners were girthy fat men, with belts stretching at the

buckles and buckling at the holes. Their sleeves were

rolled up and the fat on their arms jiggled with the ef

fort needed to lift the couch. He used his fat fingers

to pry his jaw down to his knees and they inserted the

couch into him, the whole thing, and he swallowed it

The following four couches disappeared in much the

same manner, with fat grey-haired men handing over fist

fuls of cash to the Serpentess as she danced and twirled

and laughed with a mixture of glee and disgust at their fat

slobbering, desperate faces. The seating in the Interaction

Area was disappearing at an alarming rate, and as they

proceeded down the line of couches I started to realize

my fate: I too would be eaten if I did not get out of there

Doctors are the same as lawyers; the only difference is that lawyers merelyob you, whereas doctors rob you and kill you too.

A. Chekov


6/28

osto ex enisci blamcom mod-oreet wis doluptat. Il dui exe dolore do eugait venim eu

msandre tismolorper ipis nu

ptat lut amcommy nos augaipit, commolum verosto odit alisl delit alit autpating e

rper iuscil esto doloboreetulputat. Ex eugueros acinci

strud dunt acin henim autpet lute modit wis alit lor sul dolute eugait adiamco num

n utpat cor alisim quis aliq

I stood up and saw around me a sea of swirling and swarm-

ing blubber: fat men were climbing and crawling and twist-

ing into each other, creating a rat king out of their gelati-

nous bellies. I couldnt tell where the obese outpourings

of one ended and those of another began. I climbed onto

the arm of the couch, hoping I could jump over their hun-

gry and salivating mouths, as they eyed that final prize,

that delicious couch that I had selected that morning.

I bent my knees.

I swung my arms behind my back.

I felt something hit my chest. It was the Serpentess, her

hand outstretched from her body, the tophat pressed

hard against my chest.

And just where do you think you are going, you delicious young

articling thing? Do you think you can escape this mess that you

see before you, that a leap of faith will bring you out of and

beyond the control of the masturbatory machine that feeds thesegreedy bellies? That there is something more out there besides a sea

of consumption and disgust? You are wrong, little girl, and you

will be sucked in too for you belong now to this machine and this

place and you are meant simply to become it or become consumed

by it, which of course means that you will become it anyway.

There is no way out. So sit your skinny ass down and make a

decision; you will not sail across these writhing and jiggling bod-

ies, you will only sail into them and become them, consuming the

building with them. As them. Or you will be consumed yourself.

I looked around at the swarthy mass about me. I real-ized that it was hopeless, futile. There was no way my

thin legs could carry me in a jump beyond the mass of

sweaty fatty bodies. Some of the fat men on the out-

skirts of the mass had realized my original intentions

and were waiting with their mouths open for my land-

ing, should I miss my target. They were smaller than

the other fat men, but girthy still. They wanted my flesh,

my body, anything to feed their legal desire to grow

and become a giant blobulous mass like the rest. They

wanted the prestige associated with a global waistline,

and I was merely a prawn in their disgusting consump-

tion of the building and everything in it. I realized I had

already been bought and paid for; my fate was sealed.

Defeated, I laid down on the couch. I crossed my arms

on my chest, as though in a funeral. With the greatest of

ceremony, the swirling and swarming crowd slowed to a

buzzing pace. They parted, forming a circle around the

largest of the fat men. He was so

abundant in size it would have

taken three of the others to com-

prise his shape. As if to emphasize

this point, he reached out a blub

bery hand. There was no bonevisible, and the hand moved as

if it had been made of Jell-o. He

reached out and plucked one of his

fat partners from the crowd, opened wide, and swallowed

him down. No one said anything, no one complained

I watched this expressionless from my gowned funeral po

sition on the couch. This was my convocation, this pomp

and ceremony, and I was merely to accept the sealed fate

and cross over the stage into my already-determined future

The fattest of the fat men, the leader, perhaps, of their

society, merely opened his jaw. Without words, the

rest of the fat men lifted the couch and me all in one

smooth motion. They twirled it around. They danced

they chanted, they sang. The music they were making

with their groaning, grunting, drooling, open mouths

swelled. It reached a critical pitch as the couch spun

round and round. Then, everything stopped. There

was nothing-- no movement, no sound. A light was

turned on at the back of the room and the Serpentesswas standing there, watching the carnage from a safe dis

tance. She had tricked me! She laughed, big chortling

fat belly laughs that filled the silence of the space. It

was the last thing I heard as I was lowered into the belly

of the fattest of the fat, disgusting, all-consuming men

Good people do not need laws to tell them to act responsibly, while bad peopwill find a way around the laws.

Pl

And just where

do you think

you are going,

you deliciousyoung articling

thing ?


7/28

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BORDEN LADNER GERVAIS LLP IS PROUD TO SUPPORUBCS ESOTERIC MAGAZINE

COMMITTED TO YOUR SUCCESS AND DEVELOPMENT.

$" -("3: .0/53"- 05 5"8" 5030/50 7"/$067& 3 8"5&3 -00 3&(

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SonnetsTlell Raffard, UBC 2L

First Year Law: Exams

Midst the numbing hours and pages turning,

Buried in the countless cases skimmed,

Facts and facts and facts be endless churning,

Here and there the players neatly limned;

A pause, a breath, a moment to reflect

Was that the ratio or a mild dissent?

The discord ever dripping with respect,

That banded branded crew will not foment;

For equity and jurisprudence rule

Where common law fills in a statutes weal

Lest it remains the lowly common muleAnd legislated law devours the meal.

We poorly students lapping at the rim

The glimmring Truth as yet a distant dim.

Obstruction

Untold mysteries lurk betwixt the lines,

Obscure a simpler meaning in the tome.

Great Lexicon will sneer at lesser signs

Which blur like shadows writhing in the gloam.

A blink, a stare, then squinting of the eye.

Provisions grasped while others slip away,

Clarity a figment quick and sly.

Uncertainty belied by long delay.

Dissection lends itself to greater toil

And grinds all forward motion to a halt

Whereby the stagnant parties come to boil,Each calling out the other for the fault.

Thus resolution surely will elude

A conflict counsel could have helped preclude.


8/28

With these eyesEric Laxton, UBC 2L

The only power any government has is the power to crack down oncriminals. Well, when there arent enough criminals, one makes them. Onedeclares so many things to be a crime that it becomes impossible for men to

without breaking laws. Ayn Rand


9/28

San marco square 1902James Wilson Morrice, UoT dropout

il and graphite on wood, 25.6 x 33.1 cm. National Gallery of Canada (no. 30424)

This was Venice, the flattering and suspect beauty - this city, half fairytale and half tourist trap, in whose insalubrious air the arts once ranklyand voluptuously blossomed, where composers have been inspired tolulling tones of somniferous eroticism.

Thomas Mann, Death in Venice


10/28


11/28

European vacationLaing Brown, Partner B.L.G.

For beauty isnothing but the

beginning ofterror, Which weare barely able to

endure and areawed, Because itserenely disdainsto annihilate us

Rainer M. Rilke

Beauty is butaltered state ofconsciousness aperception,an extraordina

moment ofpoetry and gra


12/28

PoesyIlia Korkh, UBC 1L

A Resolution

(Composed in the shower before sleep)

Upon my Priapus I swear that tomorrow

By six oclock I shall wake up and rise;

And no amount of bed-craving sorrow

Shall lead to my plans languorous demise

Tis true, that it is not my disposition

To greet the rising suns first rays,

Yet if I want to nourish my ambition

I must make the most out of my days.

Last Night

The memories of this occasion

Will fade like a dawn-stricken wight.

Sweet travesties of fornication

And of Bacchic excess delight.

The passionate promises whispered,

The sanguinal vows all forlorn.

The joys of this fiery evening

Shall soon become tainted by scorn

To A Girl So Wise And So Silly

You gave me shelter, wisdom and advice

To your benevolence I am eternally in debt

But then you had to offer me your heart

Praytell: just what the fuck am I to do with THAT?

An October Sonnet

A rather doleful affectation

Today has come upon my soul;

The freshness of this autumn chill

With pensive thoughts my mind has filled.

These I wove round me like a shawl,

In hope that poetry would melt

The stillborn passions that I felt;

But like a church-bells lonely toll

The echo of my feeling fades

Among the bare October glades.

And here I linger, as in thrall

Of warmth that I will never know.

In autumns melancholy wreathed

My stanzas dissipate into the mist.

A Lisping Whore

Serpentine and sibylline, she - sheathed

In a shadow-spun shawl of dusk, syllabed

Thus to thee of abysses of bliss,

Whispering shameless, hissing the syllabus

Of seven sins served by insatiable

Sensual,sultry and shapely seductresses -

Luscious, lascivious, succulent succubi,

Wreathed in satins sapphire, saffrons sulfurious,

Writhing on sable sheets laced with silks damascene :

Wraiths upon sinful thrones, their throes thronged by

satyrs and fallen seraphs,

Wrathful and saturnine in their Sapphic sorrows.

Seventy shiny shillings gets you all this

A case of sheeny herpes and some syphilis.


13/28


14/28


15/28


16/28

Hormenon is passiveSteven Wexler, Professor UBC Law

Its not the seeing

but the sceneNot the seers

but the seen

Not the seeming

that has been

But the unseen

that I mean.

What is not said

inside my headAs I lie in my bed

pretending Im dead

Whats denied

when I lie

When I try

not to cry.

Im not the seer.

Im the seen.Im the seeming.

Im the scene.

The man in the moonSteven Wexler, Professor UBC LawCan you recall when you first set eyes

on the man in the moon?

Hey, yeah! Theres a man in the moon!

And how you could see him as clear as

day.

Only it was night, not dayand the moon was bright

with its quiet white light,

And he was there and you could see his face.

Only now you cant.

Is that pollution do you think?

Does that go with the cars and their stink?

Is that why you cant see him?

Is that what you think?

Its not pollution, mate.

Its educution.

Education taught you, mate,

it aint no face,

its just the place

where shadows fall cross lunar seas.

So you cannot see what you used to see,

what you used to see as clear as day.

Hey! Look! Theres a man in the moon!

Law Skul suxAnonym

Ive never been in love. Ive alwaybeen a lawyer.

Anonym

Make crime pay. Become a Lawye

Will Rog


17/28

osto ex enisci blamcom modloreet wis doluptat. Il dui eolore do eugait venim eu feandre tismolorper ipis nullu

ut amcommy nos augait aciommolum verosto odio ent sl delit alit autpating ero co

per iuscil esto doloboreet nuat. Ex eugueros acincip susunt acin henim autpat.Metodit wis alit lor suscil dolu

ugait adiamco numsan utpa

or alisim quis aliquis num z

BalloonsTlell Raffard, UBC 2L

Characters

LENORE

JOE

Scene

(Brooklyn. A small, ratty apartment.

LENORE sits at the table deep in thought.

Someone KNOCKS at the door. LENORE

ignores it. Someone KNOCKS again.)

JOE (O.S.)Lenore!

(LENORE doesnt move.)

JOE (cont. O.S.)

You in there Lenore? (Beat) Come

on Lenore, I got a surprise for you!

LENORE

I dont want no more of your sur-

prises Joe!

JOE (O.S.)

Dont make me stand out here like

a jerk Lenore! Open the door would

ya! (He BANGS insistently.) Lenore!

Open the goddam door!

LENORE

Its OPEN!

(Enter JOE holding a bunch of helium

balloons that read Congratulations and

Bon Voyage etc. LENORE stands.)

JOE

Well hey for Chrissakes. Look what

I brought ya.

LENORE

Balloons.

JOEBalloons! Well? Come on, theyre

for you.

(She takes them and holds them, staring

blankly at JOE.)

JOE (cont.)

What, no thank you?

LENORE

Thanks.

(JOE goes to kiss her but she turns so he

kisses her cheek.)

JOE

So happy birthday, mufn.

LENORE

I aint your mufn no more.

JOE

Sure ya are.

LENORE

Not no more, Joe. I had enough

once and for all.

JOE

Aw come on, Lenore. I said I was

sorry.

LENOREYou always say youre sorry. And I

always believe ya.

JOE

You know I love ya mufn, and the

others, they dont mean nothin.

LENORE

I aint your mufn! (Beat, resigned) I

oughta know by now. You cant get

nothin right.

JOE

Whats that suppose to mean?

LENORE

Ah why cant you just bring me ba

loons for no reason, huh Joe?

JOE

I never brought nobody balloons

before. Hey, come on. Waddya ex-

pect a guy to do? Beg?

(JOE drops to a knee, LENORE crosse

her arms, accustomed to this regular even

JOE (cont.)

So ne Im beggin. Lenore please,

please forgive me Im a weak, wea

man and Ive done wrong by you

but I love ya so much and and

Ill do better! Thats it Ill do bette

by you from now on. (Stands) So

you forgive me or what? (Beat) You

like the balloons?

LENORE

Bon Voyage? Where am I goin?

JOE

I got a deal on the ones already

blown up. Theyre still nice though

Look at em.

(LENORE does look at them and her

shoulders slump.)

JOE (cont.)

Whats eatin you anyhow?

LENORE

You forget what you done already?


18/28

JOE

Yeah but we worked that out.

LENORE

Why dont you just take off huh?

Like once and for all?

JOE

Hey, Im tryin to be nice now.

LENORE

Why Joe? Huh? Ya got more prom-

ises up your sleeve?

JOE

I know I aint been the best to ya

sometimes and I done some things,

I know. I know. Look, I just think,

you and me, we got a thing here,right? Or part of a thing anyhow.

You dont just throw away some-

thin like that. So I screwed up. You

gotta make a big deal out of it?

LENORE

So we got a PART of somethin. Big

deal! We supposed to make a mar-

riage outta that?

JOEHeeeeey, whatre you talkin mar-

riage for?

LENORE

I been thinkin Joe. I been thinkin

hard these last days.

JOE

(Rolls his eyes away from LENORE)

Thinkin huh? I dunno about that.

LENORE

Yeah well I been doin it anyway.

Cause I aint gettin any younger,

Joe, an I got the rest of my life to

think of. I gotta be thinkin long

term you know.

JOE

Right. Long term. So maybe we

could be long term but why rush it?

LENORE

I had plans, Joe. Or at least Im

makin plans. And slingin food at

the diner in The Towers Hotel aint

the plan! (Beat) Ah Joe. I just I

just think you an me, it was fun,

but were through ya know?

JOEFun? FUN? Thats it? Just like

that?

LENORE

Come on, Joe, whatd ya think?

Youre just a valet for Chrissakes.

JOE

Just a valet. Thats nice Lenore.

You aint the only one with plansya know. Me I got big plans too.

LENORE

Oh yeah? Since when?

JOE

Since today. I just made me a plan

to stop listenin to this crap.

LENORE

You see? You never take me seri-ous.

JOE

You wanna be serious? Fine. Okay.

So maybe this Valets got plans to

run his own hotel one day huh?

LENORE

How you gonna do that? You got

big dreams, Joe, Ill give ya that.

JOE

You think I cant do it.

LENORE

Sure ya will. And Im gonna be a

back-up singer. (Beat) Listen, I been

seeing Donny again.

JOE

What? When?

LENORE

Yesterday and some other times

too. For a while now. Then yester-

day, we talked a long time.

JOE

Just talkin huh?

LENOREYeah about plans and and he

wants me back Joe. (Beat) And Im

gonna go. Back. To Donny.

(Joe starts to pace.)

JOE

Aw Jesus. Aw man. So you been

screwin Donny again.

LENORE

What, ya cant take me gettin some

on the side? Thats real funny

comin from you.

JOE

Thats different! Those girls dont

mean nothing to me.

LENORE

Jesus, Joe, Im pregnant!

(Pause.)

JOE

Is it is it mine?

LENORE

You think Id have your baby?

JOE

So its Donnys.

LENORE

Yeah, sure. It could be.

JOE

Aw Lenore, Lenore. Whatre you

doin?


19/28

LENORE

Im takin care a me alright? Look

you gotta go. I got things to do

right?

(He drops onto the sofa.)

JOE

Ya gotta give a guy a minute forit to sink in. (Beat) Lenore? Hey,

Lenore. Listen, forget Donny. Just

forget him cause hes a no-good

scumbag and hell ruin everything.

So how about you and me, we get

(ahem) married?

LENORE

What?

JOE

Yeah thats right. We could do it

right at the hotel! Itd be a helluva

party.

LENORE

Party, party! Thats all you think

about. Besides listen to yourself. Ya

ainnt even askin me right.

JOECome on, Lenore. Its you an me

here. And we got this part of

a thing, right? Well. Maybe thats

(her belly) the other part. Thats

been missing ya know? Maybe it

dont matter where it comes from,

just that its here now, growin inside

a you.

LENORE

Youre crazy.

JOE

Come on. Im proposin here. May-

be you got a ton a guys proposin to

you these days but come on. Thats

another thing I never done for no

one else. (Beat) Waddya say?

LENORE

I say I aint marryin a valet Joe.

Now stop talkin crazy at me and

get out would ya?

JOE

So thats it.

LENOREI made up my mind.

JOE

Youre just wanna throw everythin

away, but it aint like you got so

much to spare.

LENORE

Youre just a lousy valet Joe!

(Joe grabs her.)

JOE

What if it IS my kid? Huh? You

just gonna give it to that scumbag?

LENORE

At least he can pay for it!

(He throws her from him in disgust and

she stumbles, lands on the oor. Joe standsstill for a moment breathing deeply. Then

he goes to help her up.)

JOE

Aw shit. Lenore. Get offa the oor.

(She bats him away but stays on the oor.

He tries again.)

JOE (cont.)

Just get up offa the oor would ya?

LENORE

Get out!

JOE

Come on Lenore. Look, Im sorry

alright? (Beat) Im tryin to help. I

said I was sorry!

LENORE

Oh yeah! Sorry! Sorry! I heard that

so many times Joe it dont mean

nothin no more.

JOE

Fine! You wanna lay on the oor?

Ya look real at home down there

anyhow.

LENORE

Go to Hell!

JOE

Dont you rush me!

(Lights down.)


20/28

Ghosts at varaderoMichael Coleman, Coleman Fraser Parcells

Lying under a strong yellow sun

on this tranquil beach in Cubaseems exceeding strange.

As turquoise waters softly sweep the shore,

I remember university in the sixties

and think of Fidel and Che,

Kennedy, Khruschev

The Bay of Pigs,

October Missile Crisis.

Tourist shops here are filled

with images of Che Guevara -

frozen in time, rebel as poster-boy.

A near half century has passed

from that world on the cusp of war,

only Castro remains, and he

nearing the end.

Even the monolithic Soviet Union

has vanished.

Yet the world still harbours

malignancies and dangers:

Bin Laden, Al-Qaeda

and China rising.

Sun and salt and sandunder the brilliant sapphire sky

seem immutable,

more constant than the clash

of men and arms and ideas

rchoing

in the fading mists

of memory.

COLEMAN FRASER PARCELLS

MICHAEL G. COLEMAN*

202-58 STATION STREETDUNCAN, B.C. V9L 1M4

TEL: (250) 748-1013FAX: (250) 748-2733

*Michael G. Coleman Law Corporation

LAWYERS

The key is to commit crimesconfusing that the police will feel tstupid to write reports about the

R. K. Milholla


21/28

Two goddessesIlia Korkh: UBC 1L

I. Morning

Awash in blazing bronze of cold November dawn

Crowned with a glowing misty halo of your breath,

Among the bleak-garbed tired morning crowds you shone

In aeneous splendor - like Aurora deigned to bless

This frozen bus stop with her presence saffron-dressed.

Your sapphire eyes are calm and gleam with morning dew

Like pools, kissed and bejeweled by midnight frost,

Wake, melting in the rising sun. Serene, you glide.

Seduced by some strange fleeting dream that crossed

Your nights repose; you gaze around, weary-eyedBlind to the one who would have worshipped you.

II. Night

Ereshkigal, my mistress raven-haired,

How long Ive sought you; often Ive despaired

To find your beauty - bane of bards and wolves - ensnared

Within the trappings of some mortal flesh. And now

I kneel before you - dusk-robed and malign.

Unclasp your gown and let it fall undone;

Unfurl your fragrant mane and let me twine

My fingers through your tresses onyx-spun,

Upon a sea of brocade couch yourself: divine

Pale flesh girt by an amaranth eclipse -

A heathen idol on her blood-drenched shrine.

Cursed wild-eyed witch, enflame my parched soul

With scorching droughts of your vermillion lips,

Upon your venomed tongue my hunger sate,

And my burnt offering of passion consecrate.

Enshrouded in your arms, how I despiseFunereal cadence of the ticking clock,

The bastard dawn that yearns to spur your flight,

The jealous world, the clouds of carrion flies;

Spent, love-drunk, them I wish to mock,

Escape and drown myself tonight

In stormy darkness of your autumn eyes.

Because just as good morals, if theare to be maintained, have need of tlaws, so the laws, if they are to be oserved, have need of good morals.

Niccolo Machiave

Morality is the herd instinct in theindividual.

Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzc


22/28

There was something about the way her hair danced

in the wind as she ran for the number 99 bus. Her

brown locks bounced to a rhythm. The rhythm

was life itself. The world around her slowed --

though my heartbeat quickened-- as she came near.

There was something about the way her face con-

torted as the heel broke off her leather pump.

Had it not been raining, she may have scraped

her knee much worse when she fell; like some

kind of epidermis to asphalt hydroplaning. I

hoped. The blood seemed to indicate otherwise.

There was something about the way she chased down

the rogue sheets of paper, escaping from her tote,

strewn about. The blown papers would settle, mo-

tionless. But as she would approach, the wind would

pick up once more, sending the white sheets whirl-

ing and waving. It was like teasing a child with candy.

There was something about the way she pursed

her lips, or exhaled suddenly, the breath escap-

ing as with her hopes of catching the 99 bus. Iwanted those lips to touch mine. I wanted to

breathe new hope. The bus wont wait for her.

There was something about her very es-

sence, fraught with chaos; ripe with calamity.

She was poetic in her misfortune. She was beau-

tiful in her humanity. She was perfect in her flaws.

Every morning I get on the 99 bus. Every morning.

This is the unchangeable routine. She was anarchy

to the status quo; an accident waiting to happen.

She was the accident I hoped would happen to me.

The bus will leave without her. Per-

haps today it can leave without me too.

The first thing we do, lets kill all the lawyers.William Shakespeare,

King Henry the Fourth, Part

B-lineEric Laxton: UBC 2L


23/28

Legal letsA Comparison of Squash and Law

Aminollah Sabzevari: UBC 1L

The sport of squash is my true break during the week,

and it is a wonderful stress reliever. When I meet

someone, I identify myself first as a law student, and

second as a squash player. I play other sports; badmin-

ton with a doubles partner, as well as soccer, ultimate

and football with my law and residence teams. In these

sports Ive utilized and honed the teamwork skills that

are crucial for a legal career. However, playing on the

squash court is where my individuality takes precedence.

Squash is a microcosm portraying the attributes I will

have in the practice of law, and I try to emulate it inmy daily life. If I fall behind in a game, I take full re-

sponsibility, and do not try to blame anyone else. It is

up to me to get back into it, and make the best of a dif-

ficult situation. I keep my cool; needlessly getting angry

does not help solve problems in squash or in my general

life. I must adapt when my game plan isnt working, and

always be ready to counter a wily and fluid opponent.

Being able to think independently, effectively and to solve

novel problems are essential requirements for practicing

law. Law also requires precision and accuracy, as doessquash. Playing good squash requires a combination of

skill, practice and experience. Some new players have

a higher innate natural ability than others. Some have

a stronger athletic background. You improve at squash

through intense practice and playing with those that know

more than you. Once you have played a lot of games, you

also develop the experience that helps resolve common

situations, and also respond to unexpected situations. In

law, there is a similar combination of skill, practice, and

experience. Some may have stronger natural ability or

backgrounds upon beginning the study of law. It is through

study, practice, and hard work that law students improve,

learning from more experienced lawyers and educators.

A good squash match actually exemplifies conflict reso-

lution. If I have a disagreement with my opponent, we

aim to resolve it to the best of our abilities, fairly and hon-

estly. During match play I have to keep out of the way

of my opponent, and prevent potential obstruction. My

opponent must do the same, and if either of us breaks

this freedom of movement pact, the game rules actually

demand an end to the rally. This event is known as a

let, and the point is replayed. When I first start playing

against an opponent, we often get in each others way

We literally tread on each others toes. However, we

adapt to each other, and eventually angle around each

other, weaving in and out during the rally in a veritable

dance on the squash court. At this level we do not have a

referee or judge. It is up to both of us to judge calls, and

more often than not we err on the side of caution rather

than risk taking unfair advantage. We want to win, but

facilitating a legitimate procedure takes precedence inboth a court of squash and a court of law. With these ele

ments of fairness and professionalism and respect for the

rules, the play of squash mirrors the ideal practice of law

Sometimes after fighting off several match points, I fi-

nally succumb to a roll out shot from my opponent

Among the deadliest of low probability shots, a roll ou

shot is when the ball rolls down from a wall onto the

floor and is impossible to return. Sometimes, despite al

my training and preparation and effort, I do not succeed

Thats as true in squash as it is when trying to help alegal client. A lawyer has to be able to accept potentia

loss without becoming disillusioned, and remain com

mitted to the care and wellbeing of every new client

Squash has been around for a long time, and like the

practice of law, the involved materials and strategy have

adapted and improved over time. While wood was the

material of choice in the past, graphite has replaced it

The balls are made from improved rubber. Analogously

legal resources have become increasingly, if still scantily

electronic and online. But all this new technology still re

quires versatile and improved players and practitioners

Squash was once restricted to the wealthy male elite of

society, like law, but they are both now open to and seek

a wide variety of participants. A diversity of backgrounds

and experiences can only improve the sport of squash,

and the practice of law. It is into this new era of law that I

hope to enter, as a squash player and aspiring law student


24/28

Eagle at vesuviusMichael Coleman, Coleman Fraser ParcellsFrom a sturdy branch

overhanging the harbour

the imperious bird stares

haughtily,

a stern Roman senator,

piercing eyes

encased in a scalloped crown

of strong white feathers.

A sudden launch

and wide descending arcs

target the beach.

Talons twist a fish head

from the rocky shore

amid raucous complaints

of the frenzied feeding seagulls.

Cacophonous crows

clustered on wires

above the grey ferry dock

stridently applaud the show

as the eagle soars aloft

bearing its prize

with nonchalant grace.

(Curtain)

My grandmother

Sigh to cover pain

Comforting other patients

Eroded within

with cancerA Haiku

Tlell Raffard, UBC 2L

PorA pound of that same merchants flesh is th

The court awards it and the law doth givShyl

Most rightful juPor

And you must cut this flesh from off his breThe law allows it and the court award

ShylMost learned judge! A sentence! Come, prep

William Shakespeare, A Merchant of Ven


25/28


26/28

Laing Brown BLG LLPLaing is a partner at BLG and a UBC Law alumnus. He

practices corporate and commercial law. He has been

deeply involved in Vancouver community activities, par-ticularly in the visual arts. He is former President of

both the Vancouver Art Gallery and the Contemporary

Art Society of Vancouver.

Michael Coleman Coleman Fraser Par-

cellsMichael is married with three sons and four grandchil-

dren. He practices law with Coleman Fraser Parcells in

Duncan. Past president of Cowichan Valley and Nanaimo

County Bar Associations, former Mayor of Duncan andPresident of the Federation of Canadian Municipalities,

Mikes poetry has been published internationally.

Joshua Dedora UBCJoshua Dedora was born in the dark golden age of Sas-

katchewan from where he jumped the stubble to learn of

life and the world and literature that lead to nothing and

thus he is now studying the law.

Jordan Forsyth UBCJordan Forsyth is a first year law student at the UBC. Hehas an undergraduate degree in English Literature from

the University of the Fraser Valley

Ilia Korkh UBCIn hits defense, Ilia would like to say that he is not that

which he is, and everything else is a lie. But he still likes

red wine, Romantic poetry and beautiful women.

Kyla Lee UBCKyla grew up and honed her mind by learning the laws

of Victorian trees before deciding to learn western law

that is against nature.

Eric Laxton UBCEric is a second year J.D. student at UBC. He hold

a B.A. in Psychology and Business from the U of O.

He has also studied Professional Writing and English aYork. His varied legal interests include Corporate Fi

nance and Entertainment Law. He enjoys creative writ

ing and derives great pleasure from the beauty of words

James Wilson Morrice 1865-1924Having dropped out of his legal studies at UoT, James

became an intrepid traveller and one of Canadas best

known Impressionist painters. His parents were still dis-

appointed that he never made it to be a big time lawyer

Tlell Raffard UBCTlell received her BA in Theatre and Creative Writ

ing from UBC, has written and produced a couple of

full-length plays, and has participated in other theatre

projects in a variety of capacities. Her interests lie in

stageplay, screenplay, and poetry, and she is explor

ing how these might coincide with the study of Law

Aminollah Sabzevari UBC

Aminollah Sabzevari is a 1st year student, with a background in physics and philosophy. His interests include

most racquet sports, etymology, and long walks on the

beach.

Steven Wexler UBCThe Artist Currently known as Professor Wexler has

been at UBC for almost 40 years. If he ever retires, he

will be known as The Artist Formerly Known as Profes

sor Wexler.

Eric Wordsworth UBCEric is an unfotrunate descendant of the famed Word-

sworth of the Romantic Age. Erics life has been spent

wandering lonely as a cloud among daffodils . seeking in

spiration to live up to his worthy and wordy last name.

Contributors

Esoteric[e-saeterik]: adjective1. a: designed for or understood by the specially initiated alone b: requiringexhibiting knowledge that is restricted to a small group;2. a: limited to a small circle b: private, confidential

3. of special, rare, or unusual interest


27/28

Thank YouThe Editor of Esoteric would like to thank: the Law Stu-

dents Society for providing a platform for the magazine;

Sharon Mah for her insights and guidance throughout theformative stages of this years issue; Borden Ladner Ger-

vais for its generous financial support and continued in-

volvement in student initiatives; All the contributors who

submitted the fruit of their creative labours; The previous

editors and contributors for creating the foundation upon

which we have built this issue, and upon which we hope

to continue a successful and interesting annual publica-

tion; To all our readers, we thank you for your reader-

ship and welcome your questions and suggestions. Please

help us continue the tradition of Esoteric magazine. We

look forward to expansion and growth into the future

Please, contact us with comments, submis-

sions, and criticisms at:

Esoteric MagazineFaculty of Law, University of British Columbia

1822 East Mall, Vancouver, BC V6T 1Z1

http://esoteric.wordpress.com

[email protected]

And remember to sumbit your works for our next issue.

University of British Columbia

1822 East Mall

Vancouver BC V6T 1Z1

Canada

Tel: 604-822-3151

Fax: 604-822-4781

www.law.ubc.ca

T H E

U N I V E R S I T Y O F

B R I T I S H

C O L U M B I A

i

l

Esoteric MagazineUniversity of British Columbia,

Faculty of Law Publication

Founded in 2003, Re-launched 2009 EDITOR-IN-CHIEF: Eric Laxton ART AND DESIGN: Ilia Korkh


28/28

Esoteric Magazine 2009

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Transcript of Esoteric Magazine 2009