MUSHROOMS PART TWO!!!

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Noah Coco '26 
Managing Editor 

Remember in October when we published an article listing several varieties of mushrooms you can find around north grounds? Well, that was just the tip of the iceberg, baby. There were so many shrooms that we had to cut those bad boys in half. In celebration of the fall decay, please enjoy the final five fungi…

1. Porphyrellus (Porphyrellus sordidus)[1]

I spotted this next species beneath the trees in the grassy area between the D3 parking lot and the Law School. These sad subjects apparently do not have a colloquial name; the app provides essentially no descriptive information concerning this species; and Wikipedia is of marginal utility for filling in the details. Perhaps I just got this identification wrong. However, the height of the stem and size of the cap do roughly match the typical dimensions of a Porphyrellus sordidus. In addition, it is typical to see the brown caps begin to crack as they age, which appears to be happening in the images above. The app does mention that this species typically grows under oaks or conifers— which is again consistent with where I found these subjects—and we are still within this species’ primary growing season.

2. Grisette (Amanita vaginata)

I honestly feel most confident about this next identification because the app only returned one result. I also found these mushrooms under the trees next to the D3 parking lot. Grisettes have a moderately long stem and grayish-brown cap that is initially convex before flattening out as it matures. They are apparently a very hardy and adaptable species and can grow in coniferous or deciduous forests, or even in grassy areas in disturbed environments. They most commonly live symbiotically among tree roots, which appears to be where I found these subjects.

3. Saffron Bolete (Leccinellum crocipdium)[2]

The trees between the D3 lot and the Law School are apparently rich with diverse fungal life because this is the fourth species of mushroom I found thriving within the area’s arboreal embrace. There were several contenders for this identification, many within the same genus, but I decided on this species because of the relatively muted yellow hue and lack of deep wrinkles, which were more characteristic of some of the top alternative choices. However, this species is apparently another rare one to find. As this mushroom ages, its yellow hue will fade to brown, so if my identification is correct this is a relatively young subject. They commonly grow symbiotically with oak trees (surprise). The most likely alternative, the wrinkled leccinum, is a relatively more common species also known to grow among oak trees. But I decided against this alternative because wrinkled leccinums look like they generally have a deeper orange hue and develop much deeper wrinkles as they age. Perhaps this is just a young subject, as noted above, that has yet to develop its deep hues and wrinkles, but as always I will leave that precise determination to the professionals.

4. Blusher (Amanita rubescens)

The oak trees between the Law School and the D3 lot continue to deliver with this next subject. The blusher is yet another species that grows in a symbiotic relationship with tree roots, especially with oak or pine trees. It derives its name from the pinkish-red pigment it develops when cut or bruised. These mushrooms grow relatively large hemispherical caps that flatten as they mature and are spotted with grayish or brown patches. This species contains a toxic compound that can cause anemia. Most troubling, however, is the range of alternatives that the app suggested that bear a similar enough resemblance to warrant caution. The panther cap, for instance—also known as the false blusher—contains a highly toxic neurotoxin that sounds like it would ruin your day and then some. Whatever this subject is, I’d recommend steering clear.

5. Shoehorn Oyster (Hohenbuehelia petaloides)

I found this next species at the base of the trees in front of North Grounds Rec Center. The shoehorn oyster grows brown petal-shaped caps and are commonly found at the base of a tree or stump, and can grow in both heavily wooded and more developed areas. For that reason, it is again unsurprising to find this species around North Grounds.

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cmz4bx@virgina.edu 

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[1] Alternative: Red Cracking Bolete (Xerocomellus chrysenteron)

[2] Alternatives: Wrinkled leccinum (Leccinum rugosiceps); Rugiboletus (Rugiboletus extremiorientalis)

What is Litigation Financing?

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Emily Becker '27 
Staff Editor 

Litigation financing is third-party investment in legal proceedings. It is available to plaintiffs and defendants, organizations, and individuals. The investments themselves are nonrecourse, meaning that the funded party only owes the financier if they “win,” distinguishing these transactions from traditional loans. For plaintiffs, the definition of victory is often clear: monetary damages. Financiers take a cut of a settlement or award, mimicking the contingency fee structure. For defendants, victory is less obvious: it involves the financier and defense agreeing on a maximum ideal settlement amount. The financier then pays the litigation costs and agrees to pay any portion of the settlement exceeding the agreed-upon ideal amount. Thus, the defendant can negotiate knowing that their exposure is capped at a certain value and can undertake litigation proceedings without worrying about risking a massive award. If the parties settle at or below the ideal amount, the defense pays back the financier with interest.

Plaintiff-side litigation financing, in particular, has evolved into a veritable industry. Burford Capital, the largest fund of its type in the Americas,[1] touts its $7 billion portfolio and 93 percent success rate.[2] Another fund, Parabellum Capital, advises prospective clients on its website that it prefers to work with plaintiffs seeking settlements of at least $10 million.[3] Globally, litigation finance became established in Australia and the United Kingdom before gaining momentum in the US.[4]

As I read up on litigation financing, most of the articles I came across alluded to its controversial nature. In 2022, the Government Accountability Office published a report on litigation financing which pointed out federal law does not directly regulate litigation funding and that it may deter settlements and increase litigation costs for defendants.[5] In a 2019 interview, Christopher Seeger, founder of a plaintiff-side firm specializing in class actions and mass torts, was quoted describing his cautious approach to litigation financing—he feared that his clients would be taken advantage of by third-party funds looking to “cannibalize” their awards. In the same breath, though, he acknowledged that he has personally known plaintiff-side attorneys who leveraged their own assets to front the tremendous litigation costs associated with the contingency fee structure of plaintiff-side litigation. Mr. Seeger explained that plaintiff-side firms have been “wiped out” by protracted, expensive litigation and that litigation financing could change the game for plaintiff-side attorneys.[6]

So, what should we think about litigation financing? Does it level the playing field and help plaintiffs with legitimate claims bring cases they might not otherwise get to? Does it contaminate attorneys’ autonomy with third-party interests? Does it actually allow both sides to shift risk to a third party, unburdening the settlement negotiation process of worries about attorney expenses? It would take a great deal more research and thought to thoroughly answer any one of these questions, though I certainly think they are worth answering. For now, though, I want to ground the debate in history—namely, state laws regulating litigation financing. Litigation financing falls under the legal concept of champerty, which is the act by a disinterested third party of providing support for litigation in return for a pecuniary award. In the early twentieth century, champerty was widely prohibited. Why? It appears that, at least in Virginia, champerty laws were motivated by a desire to prevent civil rights litigation in the wake of desegregation.

A seminal Supreme Court case, NAACP v. Button, overturned Virginia’s champerty law, which had been passed in 1956, just a few years after Brown v. Board of Education.[7] The law had been part of the state legislature’s plan of “massive resistance” to oppose desegregation. It outlawed “improper solicitation” of clients for attorneys, which the court calls “the State’s attempt to equate the activities of the NAACP and its lawyers . . . with champerty.” The NAACP and its Legal Defense Fund (LDF) sued the Virginia Attorney General, contesting enforcement of the law. The NAACP’s Virginia chapters all belonged to the Virginia State Conference of NAACP Branches (“the Conference”). The Conference financed litigation by NAACP and LDF attorneys. The question before the Supreme Court was whether such a funding system violated Virginia’s champerty law. The Supreme Court ultimately overturned the law, finding that it impeded First Amendment rights to political expression.[8]

Today, at least half of states explicitly or implicitly allow champerty. However, I hope I have demonstrated that there is still, to say the least, a stigma surrounding litigation financing. Some of that stigma may very well stem from a generic concern that plaintiffs will bring frivolous lawsuits. But it is important to consider the degree to which history informs bias against litigation financing and champerty. Commentators could be in danger of using broad statements to introduce arguments, like “champerty has long been condemned,” or “litigation financing has historically been considered a dubious practice” without interrogating the history itself. Most of the scholarship and articles I came across while researching did not address why champerty was and still is stigmatized, beyond the cause-and-effect reasons I enumerated earlier. I certainly do not contend that modern debates over litigation financing lack merit. I simply caution readers that where debaters adduce historical evidence of stigma, consider the fact that the motives for champerty laws may well have fallen egregiously short of respectable.

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ejb6zt@virginia.edu 

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[1] chambers.com/law-firm/burford-capital-litigation-support-58:23028689.

[2] www.burfordcapital.com/about-us/.

[3] www.parabellumcap.com.

[4] Emily Samra, The Business of Defense: Defense-Side Litigation Financing, 83 U. Chi. L. Rev. 2299 (2016).

[5] www.gao.gov/products/gao-23-105210.

[6] judicature.duke.edu/articles/a-bridge-too-far-an-expert-panel-examines-the-promise-and-peril-of-third-party-litigation-financing/.

[7] firstamendment.mtsu.edu/article/naacp-v-button/.

[8] National Ass'n for Advancement of Colored People v. Button, 371 U.S. 415 (1963).

Finals Panick? Stress Cook These Tasty Recipes

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Nicky Demitry ‘26, Andrew Allard ‘25
Law Weekly Royalty 

As the Law School’s premier source of bad advice, the Law Weekly has some thoughts about how you should spend this finals season. Most law students, unlike other wild animals, do not hibernate through the winter. Nourishment is crucial during these stressful and (ordinarily) chilly months. As such, the very worst thing you can do is work on your outline, which nourishes neither your body nor your soul, and only barely nourishes your mind. Instead, we recommend making these low-effort, high-reward recipes for when hunger strikes, but inspiration escapes you. We hope they’ll support you through the final push of the fall semester!

“White Boy” Pho

•  Beef stock

•  Spice mix (star anise, cloves, cinnamon, cardamom, coriander)

•  Noods

•  Shaved beef

•  Optional (mandatory) accoutrements: cilantro, jalapeños, Thai basil, limes

UVA Law students love to talk stocks, so why not slurp on a good beef stock? This recipe is worse than true pho in almost every single way. But don’t let that fool you! This is a cheap, quick, and tasty alternative to takeaway from…where does one get pho in Charlottesville?[1]

The recipe for white boy pho is simple. Simmer your stock in a small pot with the spice mix to infuse. Be sure to inhale repeatedly. This isn’t part of the recipe, but once you smell the aroma, you’ll understand. I recommend using a high-quality beef stock (veggie broth if you love the planet or whatever).

If, like me, you want to lean into procrastination, you can make a beef stock yourself. And if you make a large batch, you can reduce it to a thick liquid, pour it into an ice cube tray, and have ready-to-go beef stock cubes in the freezer. Life hack?!

However you get your beef on, while the stock is simmering, prepare your noods. Rice noodles are the classic choice, here. They also cook quickly, which makes them a good option for this simple approach. But feel free to use whatever noodles you have on hand. This is already a highly adulterated product—I’m not really in a position to judge you.

We’re nearly done. For assembly, place your noodles in a bowl and top with some of your shaved beef, cilantro, and whatever other add-ins you’re using.[2] Using a strainer to remove the spices, pour the simmering stock into your bowl. Be sure that the stock is hot enough to cook your shaved beef. If you’re afraid of undercooked meat,[3] you can fish out the spices from your pot and cook the beef directly in the stock before transferring to your bowl.

Serve immediately. I like mine with some lime wedges, sliced jalapeños, and Thai basil. But again, not here to judge. Happy slurping!

Non-Recipe Recipes

I resent the implication that I will put together an actual recipe during this time. Here are my contributions regardless, and the only important recipe here is that they’re a recipe for success.

Stress Meal 1: the european

Glass of wine, 45 bar olives, 7 pieces manchego cheese

Stress Meal 2: homegrown

Annie’s mac and cheese, full stop. Optional mods: add tomato soup in with cheese when pasta is cooked. Don’t knock it. Alternately, get microwavable frozen broccoli/other veggies and add them in at the end. Health.

Stress Meal 3: if everything else went wrong today, at least I ate this 

Soup dumplings from Trader Joe’s

Stress Meal 4: nostalgia

Tortilla or bread, peanut butter, banana slices, mini chocolate chips, drizzle honey

Stress Meal 5: quick nostalgia

Spoon (or fork) and jar of peanut butter

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tya2us@virginia.edu 
ncd8kt@virginia.edu 

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[1] Genuinely asking. Submit pho recs to editor@lawweekly.org. Maybe you’ll get an ANG.

[2] For veggie readers, I’ve done this with tofu and mixed veg, which works nicely.

[3] Okay, liberal.

Managing Finals Stress

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Nicky Demitry '26 
Production Editor 

As the saying goes, “those who can’t do, teach,” and those that can’t do or teach write advice columns in their law school’s satire paper. So let’s get into it—stress management, coming to you straight from the individual who pulled on her eyebrows and eyelashes in a rhythmic and dissociative trance so often when studying for the LSAT that her doctor likened her behavior and appearance to that of a diseased parrot.

We all know the rote responses for stress management: exercise, sunshine, good sleep, hydration, nutritious food, and community support. If you regularly engage in these practices, this is not for you. Move on. Go run a 5k, you gunner. For the rest of you, follow these simple tricks. Local doctors hate her!

1.  Consume sugar. I know it’s bad for you. I don’t care. Consume these sugars, specifically: Thai tea croissant from Camellia’s, mousse au chocolat from Cou Cou Rachou, the cake flight from Cake Bloom.

2.  Consume salt. Specifically, the pretzel croissant from Marie Bette, Jack Brown’s cheese fries, Marco & Luca dumplings, breakfast biscuit sandos from Multiverse Kitchen. Also, Taco Bell.

3.  Consume nature. You don’t have to exercise, just sit outside. Maybe look at a star. It’s not eighty degrees in November anymore, as of yesterday. Climate change isn’t real, and you’re definitely gonna have a livable planet upon which to live out your days practicing law.

4.  Beg and plead with yourself/pretend you are someone you are not. Resort to cajoling and bribery. For example: for every page of outlining, you get to watch one episode of Star Trek. Realize that the ratio for Star Trek to expenditures of labor is way, way off. Panic!

5.  Get into some interpersonal disagreements. Alienate those close to you, then realize what you’re doing and scramble to fix things. The urgency of this will distract you from the stress of law things. It definitely will not make everything worse.

Things you should actually avoid, at least in their excess form:

1.  Alcohol. I know, I can’t believe I—the queen of boxed wine—is saying it either. But it’s a depressant and it won’t really help. If you’re drinking to the point of stress relief, it’s arguably going to be more detrimental for getting back to the grind the next day, which in turn causes further stress. However, no need to impose a total moratorium. Adopt a Mediterranean approach! A glass of wine is basically breakfast for us. Sit outside when you drink it. If you want to really get into it, whip out the chess board and challenge randoms as they walk by you.

2.  Being extremely mean to yourself. If you can’t convince yourself to be nice to yourself based on self-esteem and having a childhood filled with unconditional love, remember that being very internally harsh is at best self-absorption and, at worst, manipulation. Great, now you’re an even worse person. A really good person wouldn’t waste so much time hating themselves. Now you hate yourself more. You play the victim so much I’m surprised you don’t carry around your own body chalk.  You have created an inescapable ouroboros of misery. Oh god.

Maybe take a second to interrogate why you’re being so harsh with yourself: Do you think you’ll be able to guilt, shame, or harass yourself into being a more ideal version of yourself? Has it ever worked before? Have you ever seen it work with someone else? Elaborate. Now you’re journaling! The internet says that’s healthy. Look at you go. Write it up and submit it to the Law Weekly. Talk to your friends, don’t get a haircut.

But in all seriousness, be realistic and also reasonable with yourself. You aren’t perfect. It is okay to be upset and it is okay to feel disappointed. It’s okay even to be stressed. Life will continue on regardless of your ennui. Try, gently, to maintain perspective. As my dad would always tell me when I was young and positively racked with anxiety about every aspect of existence: “You get to keep your birthday.” It’s a nonsensical-ish phrase that annoyed me so much when I was a child that it would actually knock me out of my panic for a second. As I got older I decided I liked it. You can bomb tests, forget important dates and tasks, and tank interviews, but no matter what, you get to keep your birthday.

And you can always double down on benders and self-loathing after finals. Balance. <3

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ncd8kt@virginia.edu 

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All the Hot Girls Are Drinking Château Cardbordeaux

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Nicky Demitry '26 
Production Editor 

Since assuming my role as production editor of the Law Weekly, I have found myself working on the paper late into some Monday nights, accompanied always by our steadfast Editor-in-Chief, Andrew Allard ’25, raging hopelessly against the uncaring and casual cruelty of InDesign. As a proud Greek-American law student, and a less proud ex-bartender, Monday nights mean several things: I should consume alcohol, it should be red wine (so that it cannot be Rumplemintz), and this is all supported by precedent since it’s “industry night.”[1]

Writing drunk and editing sober may work well for Hemingway, but it works notably less well for me. This means Monday night wine time must be confined to a chaste communion-wine-esque plastic cup, which means Andrew and I are not crushing anywhere near the entire contents of your typical wine bottle. And as we know, oxygen is the mortal enemy of wine, coffee, and Yale librarians.[2] Some will tell you that wine is fine for days (sometimes even weeks!) after it’s opened, and I cast no formal aspersions on these folks or their claims; I have consumed many a vinegar-forward bottle of Bordeaux at 2 a.m. after a busy night of service. Case in point.

 The truth is, once opened, the clock is ticking on the lifespan of your bottle of wine. An additional truth is that there are a growing number of box wine supporters, with many an article defensively exhorting the merits of all things cardboard + wine. I’ll hit the major points briefly, but I’m going to then skip to some recommendations so you can perhaps dip your toes into the environmentally friendly and delicious cubical waters of boxed wine and decide for yourself if I’m out of my mind or not.[3] 

The Upsides:

Green!

Boxed wine is more environmentally friendly, longer lasting, and more affordable than bottled wine of the same quality. In terms of environmental impact here in the US, we have a little problem with recycling—i.e., we don’t do it. In 2018, when China stopped accepting a myriad of solid waste types from the US and everyone else, we lost our ability to get rid of most of our recycling. Many recycling programs today are run at a local level, which largely amounts to taking residents’ recycling to the landfill.[4] Here in Charlottesville, your recycling is likely going to a landfill unless you personally take it over to the McIntyre Recycling Center. 

While there is some back and forth about the plastic wine bags in boxes vs. wine bottles and the ins and outs of recycling the two, what it really comes down to is shipping. According to Dr. Richard Smart at the Porto Protocol, 68 percent of the carbon footprint of wine comes from wine packaging and transport, namely in the export of heavy 750 ml glass bottles. And aside from being cheaper and easier to ship, it’s cheaper and easier to store, too. Short of walking to your local vineyard to refill bottles like they do in France (hint hint VA wine makers!!), there’s nothing greener. 

Fresh!

Aside from the environmental benefits, boxed wine stays good longer, full stop. If you want to come at me claiming you can taste the difference between wine that has been in a bottle vs a bag (stored appropriately) then find me at office hours because I don’t fucking believe you. If you are not actively trying to age a wine, boxed wine will keep your wine from oxidizing. 

For an example, consider girl dinner. Sometimes after a long day at Ye Olde School of Law, I only possess the energy to come home, walk my dog, and settle in for a dinner of random cheeses, bar olives stolen from work, and a glass of wine. What I don’t want is for it to turn into 2 or 3 glasses of wine, because I’m twenty-eight, and I will have a headache tomorrow if I do that, dammit. Enter boxed wine. No longer will I worry about opening a nice bottle and getting through it before it starts tasting funky. 

Affordable!

Saving on shipping and production means savings can be passed on to consumers. Now is the ideal time to be buying some delicious boxed wines, while prices are still low as the industry fights its resoundingly un-sexy reputation. Honestly, you’re getting the best bang for your buck in terms of boxed wine if you’re willing to drop a little cash. Spend $25 on a box of Bodegas Borsao "Viña Borgia" Garnacha (Campo de Borja, Spain), and you’re essentially getting the equivalent of $60 worth of wine in bottled form. You’re like, making money basically. It won’t necessarily be as easy to find as Bota or Bandit but like I said—cheaper shipping, and you’re making money. 

The Downsides:

As I age like a fine wine (in a basement, untouched), I realize that more and more people in my social strata seem motivated by conspicuous consumption in the most Baudrillardian sense of the word. Maybe it’s just gone over my head before, maybe it’s because apparently my 1L section was known as “The Fed Soc Section.”[5] At any rate, for those of us focused on flexing on our peers in whatever form that may take, boxed wine does not play with the upper echelon money crowd. Its association with Franzia (put respect on the name tho) and other cheap industrial cooking wine types render it a dirty little secret at best. And decanting a box is way less sexy than decanting a dusty bottle of 1982 Châteauneuf-du-Pape, I’ll give you that. 

A more practical downside is the commitment factor—one box of wine usually equals 3-4 bottles of the same wine. So if you end up not liking it, you’ve got way more than a bottle to offload. Additionally, there’s some sticker shock associated with boxed wine, especially the nicer ones. It’s way easier to get a consumer to spend $10-15 on a bottle of wine rather than $50 on a box, even if it’s considerably cheaper per liter at the same quality or better. 

Recommendations: 

La Vieille Ferme Red Wine Bag in a Box 3L (France)

The only thing I miss about living in Europe (other than the healthcare, lack of school shootings, higher quality food, metric system, walkable cities, sensible work-life balance, and lack of social stigma surrounding a cheeky breakfast cigarette) is the wine culture. The French really know what people want when it comes to an $8 bottle of wine.[6] La Vieille Ferme has one of my favorite still rosés of all time, and just overall produces great approachable and affordable wine. This boxed version is made with a blend of grapes (Carignan, Cinsault, Grenache, Syrah) to form a highly drinkable, light, low tannin table wine that smells like red fruit and spices. Drink it with anything. Drink it with anyone. Drink it in the shower. But not from the box. That would get soggy. I suppose I should add shower-drinking from the source as a downside. 

La Petite Frog Picpoul de Pinet

Another French wine, this boxy baby is 100 percent Picpoul (or Piquepoul) which is a popular and traditional varietal of grapes native to the costières in the Mediterranean garrigue (or phrygana for my people) near the Etang de Thau—a coastal lagoon situated between the port of Sète and Marseillan. The traditional pairing is with shellfish and seafood (coastal wine and all that), but don’t be scared to serve this as an afternoon aperitif wine or honestly, with any fried or fatty foods, because its acidity will cut the richness. This wine is elegant, bright, and well-balanced, with strong citrus fruit notes, especially grapefruit. I feel like a lot of self-professed wannabe somms are not super familiar with Picpoul, so it’s fun to whip out at a party while pronouncing garrigue in the most overblown French accent possible. And then tell your impressed wine geek friends that it’s from a box??? And watch their faces transform with horror?? Literally so good—these are the moments that make life worth living. 

“From the Tank” Vin Rouge 

Yeah yeah yeah it’s more French wine. “Go back and change the name to French boxed wine recommendations, Nicky,” whatever. From the Tank is from Jenny and Francois Selections, a natural wine importer. This boxed wine was born out of the “old-school idea of going to the local winery with a big empty jug to fill up with easy-drinking juice, a tradition that stretches back for ages in France.”[7] Their site touts the carbon-efficient packaging and the fact that it produces the least waste—at a 55 percent lower carbon footprint in manufacture and transport and 85 percent less landfill waste compared to traditional glass bottles. This wine is a little more complicated than the others. It’s solar and Mediterranean, with smoky red fruit, violet, sweet herb, and a top note of baking chocolate. It’s deep garnet in the glass with shimmering highlights and the predictable cherry and berry flavors, but made more complex with mineral notes and velvety tannins. It has a surprisingly floral, herby finish, with a dash of black pepper. 

And boy does writing about wines remind me of the “no wrong answers” scene from the movie Wine Country. Fun fact, at my first job working in fine dining, servers had a constantly running betting pool about who could make up the weirdest shit to tell tables about whatever bottle they had bought and not have them catch on and call a manager. My best work was saying a bottle of 2005 Domaine Dujac Vosne-Romanée 1er Cru Les Beaux Monts had a “supernatural, almost haunted quality” to it, and had bootstrap leather notes like the belt your dad beat you with as a kid (no manager called, 50 percent tip btw).[8] Just don’t forget, the polite way to say a wine smells like cat piss is notes of “gooseberries” and the polite way to say a wine smells like horse shit is “barnyard.” And don’t laugh at people picking up gasoline notes in a wine until you’ve had a really good Riesling.

Some closing thoughts: 

I love traditions and I love rituals, and I equally love shredding anything people defend by saying, “But we’ve always done it like this!” We sure have, Generic Charlottesville Restaurant Owner/Bar Manager, but I’m also getting shitty overpriced glasses of oxidized wine half the time I’m at your bar, which is dumb. If your BTG menu and demographics assessments are so bad that you can’t get through a bottle fast enough, and your COGS are so bad that you can’t afford to toss it, then you of all people should be zeroing in on the option that solves both of those problems. If it’s a wine that is going to be consumed reasonably quickly, and isn’t meant for aging, why wouldn’t we turn to the more environmentally sustainable option that ensures a better drinking experience? There are plenty of high quality producers putting their wines into boxes now—Christophe Pacalet from Beaujolais is one, and stateside the folks at Tablas Creek (think California Rhone movement) have a stunning Patelin that is biodynamic and regenerative organic. I love being cynical about new marketing gimmicks in the food and bev industry, but I also love these shifts to more sustainable practices. We can contain multitudes! We can contradict ourselves! We are vast! We can have bottles and boxes of wine! 

Now, are we going to solve climate change by drinking wine? Probably not. In fact, not to be depressing, but it seems unlikely that human behavior will change enough to avert serious climate damages. We love our stuff, we love to eat high on the food chain, we continue to get into wars, and we love the way we live: big houses, big cars, big law? Yet only a fraction of U.S. emissions are in our immediate control. So when industry, commerce, landfills, and transportation still comprise the dominant share of carbon emissions, do our personal consumption choices even matter? Maybe not. But it does feel far too easy and far too cowardly to use that information on climate change as a reason to shrug off accountability whilst we sip wine at cocktail parties and happy hours and discuss the most recent Atlantic article about our dying planet with our learned colleagues. Boxed wine is the wine of the people, baby, and if you wanna talk more about it (or fight me) you can find me Monday nights tipping the boxed wine, living the life I was meant to live. 

If you’re interested in the boxed wine movement, check out Eric Asimov’s (yes, nephew of that Asimov!) N.Y. Times article “Thinking Inside the Box,” Tablas Creek Vineyard’s blog posts on their boxed wines, and (even though I share most industry folks’ hatred of bon appétit magazine) Sommelier André Hueston Mack’s video on trying 16 boxed wines. 

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ncd8kt@virginia.edu

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[1] Almost always Monday nights, the equivalent of the start of the weekend for restaurant workers, bars and restaurants will give drink specials to those who work in the “Service Industry.” And by service industry they only mean other bartenders, barbacks, servers, and back-of-house. It’s where you go to recycle the 100 percent tips left for you by other bartenders over the weekend. Arguably the best night to bartend in terms of cash if you have a high tolerance for the worst people in the world (which this audience, as law students surrounded by other law students, should at least be developing). 

[2]  Choke me https://www.rarebookhub.com/articles/2957.

[3] I am, but ideally for different reasons than my love of boxed wine.

[4] 99% Invisible, Episode 341: National Sword (February 12, 2019),  https://99percentinvisible.org/episode/national-sword/.

[5]  This is an obvious joke, because no one can Baudrillard like the nouveau riche petit bourgeoisie Liberals of our time. Though I suppose neoliberalism (even as a passé term) can encompass both sides of the partisan divide. Now that’s the American melting pot I know baby. 

[6]  And if you’re ever actually in France, BiBoViNo is an absolute banger fyi.

[7] https://www.jennyandfrancois.com/fromthetank/.

[8]  Invite me to your fancy parties and watch me drop lines like the “clay-loam influence is obvious here, as is the wet stone minerality” and “a tactile sense of seemingly schistic, crushed stone impingement” with absolute deadpan and unflinching conviction.

A Nonsensical Ranking of Horror Cult Classics

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Jamie Newton '27 
Staff Editor 

Dressing up for Halloween isn’t enough—you must succumb to the true intrinsic likeness of whom or what you are impersonating. Since there’s not enough of a display of elitism in law school, for Halloween this year, I present my best, albeit subpar, impression of your local cinephile. I’ve donned my beret—a glass of white wine in one hand and a hand rolled cigarette in the other—prepared to tell you about how the modern movie industry’s addiction to clickbait is killing the art of real horror filmmaking.[1] What follows is a senseless, uneducated ranking of horror movies that Google and IMDb articles tell me are “cult classics,” presumably meaning most were made before 1980, and when mentioned, you feel obliged to pretend you’ve watched them even though you have a Gen-Z distaste for anything in black-and-white.

#8: The Amityville Horror (1979)
A classic haunted house horror set in a seemingly idyllic suburban home, the film follows George Lutz as his sanity slowly unravels by way of supernatural forces. Monster House (2006) has nothing on this all-time favorite. The film relies on repetitive and familiar horror tropes, so while some may say it’s “nothing special,” I’ll die on the hill that it offers some unidentifiable, yet unique, perspectives of the evil beneath the normal.

#7: American Psycho (2000)[2]
A first-rate satirical dissection of capitalist excess and masculine vanity. Following the chilling, polished psychopath, Patrick Bateman, the film’s sterile aesthetic and dark humor embodies the emptiness and insecurity of 1980s Wall Street yuppie culture. Identity, privilege, violence—what is American consumerism and material excess without it?[3]

#6: The Shining (1980)[4]
Jack Torrance slowly descends into madness amidst the background of a menacing, confusing labyrinth of time and memory. Camera close-ups, an unnerving soundtrack, and a commanding use of silence evoke the uncanny. What is this film really about? What does the end really mean? Who knows… that’s what makes this classic Kubrick movie give us film snobs a real hard-on. Does it absolutely butcher one of Stephen King’s greatest novels? Sure, but since I’m a “the movie was better than the book” purist, does it really matter?

#5: Rosemary’s Baby (1968)
Ah, Roman Polanski, a hero to film fanatics (and not at all a horrible dude and literal fugitive). Satanism, Catholicism, sinister conspiracy, and a supposed portrayal of women's liberation—what more could you want from one of the greatest horror films of all time? Following Polanski’s masterclass in slow-burn paranoia, the film’s denouement sticks the final nail in the coffin (Halloween pun intended), transforming motherhood into a grotesque, existential nightmare (spoiler alert: Rosemary’s baby is the Antichrist).[5]

#4: The Silence of the Lambs (1991)[6]
The iconic, terrifying Hannibal Lector with his eerie calm and faintly veiled predatory intellect transforms what would be a classic crime procedural into a cerebral horror masterpiece. It’s another skillful genre fusion of psychological thriller and horror. As your local, amateur cinephile who probably went to film school for half a semester, I’ll disregard the film’s evisceration of any possible feminist agenda and implicit association of negative qualities with the LGBTQ+ community. Allowing any valid criticism of a cult classic would be deeply counter to my infallible opinions on film.

#3: Psycho (1960)
The most significant accomplishment of Alfred Hitchcock, the “Master of Suspense.” This masterful blend of film noir and psychological horror subverts genre conventions and shatters audience expectations. Norman Bates welcomes Marion Crane to his family’s dilapidated Bates Motel, and the suspense ensues! Think: the infamous shower stabbing scene. (Apparently Norman Bates is meant to embody some sort of Freudian ego tension, but as the classic weirdo with mommy issues and a perverse resentment of the female sex, he would likely be labeled an “incel” nowadays.)

#2: The Birds (1963)[7]
Wow—another Hitchcock masterpiece, and another genre hybrid that makes filmmaking history! From a semiotic perspective, Hitchcock utilizes a hodgepodge of various filmic codes, such as lighting, color, and manipulation of time, to instill a lifelong fear of birds in his audience. It’s a bleak, existential horror that tells the story of nature’s malevolence. Avian assaults? (“The Birds. They just BIRDED a man to death!”)[8] A slow-burn? Count me in.[9]

#1: Cat People (1942)
It’s only right that I pick the nichest, weirdest film to top the list and call it “underrated.” Women and cats: the most terrifying beings to defy the patriarchy. A newlywed’s sanity devolves as she becomes convinced that she’s descended from an ancient “Cat People” tribe who, when things get a bit too steamy, suddenly have the power to metamorphose into black panthers. The film’s noir and moody atmosphere reminds us that special effects are only the malediction of modern horror filmmaking, tainting film’s ability to reflect the true fears of our society. It’s not just a strange monster movie—it’s a precedent-making, highbrow exploration of sexual repression. Rejecting the status quo and the interests of contemporary audiences? There’s a lesson to be learned there…

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jmn5jgk@virginia.edu 

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[1] If I am impersonating you, a local cinephile or film snob who toils under the weight of their enormous ego, feel free to let me know my opinions are, in fact, wrong. No matter what, I will continue to think Coraline and Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory are the epitome of the horror genre.

[2] I have actually seen this movie, so criticism of my review is unwelcome.

[3] Thank you to fellow cinephile, Himani Gubbi ’27, for your suggestion of this film.

[4] Maybe I’m not as uncultured as I thought, because I’ve seen this too. So, once again, criticism of my fake criticism is NOT welcome.

[5] Thank you to fellow cinephile, Rachel Greenbaum ’27, for your suggestion of this film.

[6] Watched this, too! Back off, critics.

[7] For convenience’s sake, let’s just put the two Alfred Hitchcock films I could name off the top of my head side-by-side.

[8] Saturday Night Live’s sketch, “Cinema Classics: The Birds,” with Kate McKinnon and John Mulaney, which happens to be my sole insight into this film.

[9] Thank you to fellow cinephile, Katharine Sowers ’27, for your suggestion of this film.

Costume Ideas for Law Students

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Garrett Coleman '25 
Executive Editor 

For new students, choosing a Halloween costume can be a difficult task. Fortunately, the legal field is full of both great costume ideas and socially awkward people to wear them. And remember, 1Ls, the only acceptable ideas are those grounded in the law.

1. The Fox from Pierson v. Post
This costume has something for everyone. Like many other classics, it is a cute animal that goes well with any orange or red shirt. But for the horror fans out there, this fox was mortally wounded, so you could be creative there.

2. The Explosive Package from Palsgraf
Do you want something simple that will also trigger a discussion on proximate cause? Just combine several brown paper bags into a cloak, tie a string around your waist as a belt, and wear that to the party.

3. An AV-8 Harrier Jet II
While this would take skill with a sewing machine, it would impress your contracts professor. But this costume should only be worn by those who believe Leonard and his financial backers deserved the jet.

4. The Wheat from Wickard v. Filburn
Depicting the wheat would be simple. It is more difficult, though, to symbolize congressional overreach. I suggest wearing a large sash with the words: “Property of Uncle Sam.”

5. The Traditional Categories of Landowner Duties
This is for students with a mullet who want to take “business in the front, party in the back” to the next level. With your mullet, wear a white T-shirt with “Invitee” written on the front and “Licensee” on the back.

6. Reading Pipe
You are one-of-a-kind. And without you, specific performance is required.

7. The Lord Chancellor
Tired of this current Supreme Court and the limitations of the common law? Why not dress up as the physical embodiment of the King’s justice and equity jurisprudence? Order your graduation regalia early and find a heavy gold chain. Be sure to remind your friends that you are not bound by traditional rules, like splitting the Uber.

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jxu6ad@virginia.edu

Fun and Frisky Fall Festivities

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Ashanti Jones '26 
Features Editor 

Welcome back from fall break! I hope everyone got some much-needed rest (or outlining if you’re boring) and ready to tackle the last half of this semester. Even though fall break has come and gone, we can keep these good vibes going with some fall activities around Charlottesville. This list is completely biased and totally just based off things I plan on doing, but hopefully the rest of you can find something on here that piques your fancy! 

Blue Ridge Mountain Maze

Corn and pumpkins—what more could you want on a brisk fall afternoon? The Blue Ridge Mountain Maze offers guests both, in the form of a corn maze and pumpkin patch from now through Sunday, November 3. Tickets can be purchased for $15 from their website or at the front door for a full day of fall activities.

Bellair Farm Fall Fest Weekend

On Saturday, October 26 and Sunday, October 27, Bellair Farm is hosting their Fall Fest Weekend full of activities for the whole family and tons of local vendors with produce and other goods to sell. The festival will be open on Saturday from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. and Sunday from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. Tickets are only $10 per group and can be purchased on their website or at the door. Vendors in attendance include Maror Handmade Ceramics, BSting Cheesecakes, Albemarle Ciderworks, BBQ U, and much more.

Doggie Howl-O-Ween

For those with fur babies, the Pawprints Boutique is hosting a Doggie Howl-O-Ween on Friday, October 25 from 5 p.m. to 8 p.m at the Downtown Mall. The night will feature some trick-or-treating for our canine friends,a parade, and a costume contest. The categories for the costume contest include: funniest costume, most creative costume, most Halloweeny costume, best group costume, and best in show.

Carter Mountain Orchard and Winery

While famous for the Sunset Series, the Carter Mountain Orchard still has so much to offer those brave souls willing to take the drive. For just $9 a person, you can pick your own apples and a pumpkin or two, enjoy some apple cider doughnuts or an apple cider slushie, and take in the great view.

Virginia Film Festival

From Wednesday, October 30 through Sunday, November 3, the University of Virginia will be hosting the thirty-seventh annual Virginia Film Festival. The festival is free to UVA students, hopeful attendees just need to reserve tickets through the website for the shows they want to see, but supplies are limited!

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alj3emz@virginia.edu 

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Consume Mushrooms Responsibly With UVA Law

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Noah Coco '26 
Managing Editor

If April showers bring May flowers, then September monsoons bring North Grounds mushrooms. Charlottesville could not catch many breaks in the weather over the past few weeks, and the rain felt nearly constant, flooding softball fields, soggying socks, and making it very difficult to take my diva dog outside for a walk. Despite the gloom, however, the rainfall did have one generative consequence: the proliferation of mushrooms throughout North Grounds.

Easy to miss underfoot, mushrooms thrive in warm, damp, and dark environments, and the recent Charlottesville weather created perfect conditions for them to flourish. Now I do not claim to be a seasoned mycologist or even an amateur forager,[1] but my curiosity led me to frolic and detour around Grounds as I began to notice the rich fungal diversity proliferating in recent weeks.

Below I have attempted to identify some of the surprisingly numerous species I found simply strolling around North Grounds. As I already mentioned, when it comes to identifying wild mushrooms, I have essentially no idea what I am talking about. Keep that in mind. However, I did find an app appropriately titled “Picture Mushroom” that allowed me to upload my own pictures and returned recommendations of the most likely identifications. I uploaded all the pictures reported below and made some determinations of plausible identifications. Frankly, I would not be surprised if every single identification I made is still incorrect. Regardless, I hope this exercise serves as encouragement to explore your curiosity, especially as the days become darker and the prospect of classes, exams, and papers begin to creep in. Find time to have some fun and observe the natural world around you.[2]

1.  Yellow Patches (Amanita flavoconia)

This first species of mushroom I found was within the Law School’s own Grounds, nestled delicately under the trees of Spies Garden. This makes sense, as the app instructs that this species is likely to grow under hardwoods or conifers and exists symbiotically with the trees’ roots. The caps begin to grow in a conical shape and feature patches of worts (from which the species apparently derives its name) before flattening out like many of the subjects pictured above.  Despite the “burnt pancake” appearance of many of the caps, this species appears to be quite toxic and likely to induce severe gastrointestinal distress.  

2.  The Sickener (Russula emetica)[3]

This was a tough one. I found this species both underneath the trees between the Law School and the D3 lot, as well as adjacent to the yellow patches pictured above in Spies Garden. The results I received from the app suggested they could be a species called the “sickener,” an ominous portent. If so, this species is a highly toxic mushroom likely to cause severe gastrointestinal distress. However, its primary habitat according to the app is in wet, mossy woods beneath pine or spruce trees, which is not quite descriptive of the otherwise idyllic Spies Garden ecosystem, and very few of these species seem to have been identified in this geography. Alternatively, there are several species of russulas that have very similar physical characteristics. I decided to rule out the most likely contender, the creamy russula, because its primary growing season is January through March, whereas it is peak growing season for the sickener. I also ruled out another contender, the rosy russula, because that species’ stems appear to have a similar rosy pink hue, whereas the subjects in these pictures have only white stems.

3.  Fragile Dapperling (Leucocoprinus fragilissimus)[4], [5]

I am also not very confident about this next species, which I found along the roadway adjacent to the Forum Hotel. There are apparently several species that look similar to the one pictured above, and my amateur eye is ill-equipped to discern the differences. Regardless, this identification seems plausible. The fragile dapperling is, as the name and pictures suggest, a very delicate mushroom prone to ripping and tearing of both the cap and stem. The app notes that this species grows in open forests and forest clearings, particularly on forest litter, which I suppose could be replicated by the mulching in this particular area? This species again appears to be toxic with similar gastrointestinal consequences.

4.  Luxury Caps (Gymnopus luxurians)

This next species is one of the most abundant that I found in my exploration and can be found throughout North Grounds. This is perhaps no surprise since the app informs me that this species is commonly found in “cultivated” and “disturbed” areas, and oh, how disturbed these Grounds must be to foster such rich proliferation of this species. Luxury caps have a brown center that fades into lighter and creamier hues towards the edges. I presume this species gets its name from the undulating surface of the caps, reminiscent of the flowing garments of Renaissance-era marble sculptures. The picture on the right features younger subjects, while the picture on the left captures the upward-curved edges indicative of mature subjects. Luxury caps frequently grow in wood chips and mulch in suburban habitats. This might be the first non-toxic species on the list, but please don’t eat them. Please.[6]

5.  Mulch Fieldcap (Agrocybe putaminum)[7]

Another species of mushroom that can be found with relative abundance around North Grounds is the small mulch fieldcap. Much like the luxury caps, they frequently grow in cultivated and disturbed landscapes, and in particular atop wood chips and other decaying wood debris, which again explains why they proliferate so widely in this area. The caps of this species have a bulbous dome shape in hues of tan or ochre. Curiously, this species—as well as its relative and leading contender for identification—is less common in September and October than it is in spring (its main growing season) and November. Although this is still a plausible identification, the app does warn that this species belongs to the quaint category of “Little Brown Mushrooms” (“LBM”), which comprises a great many varieties of mushrooms that have similar physical characteristics. Although the mulch fieldcap is non-toxic, it may be easily mistaken for  many other varieties of toxic species.[8]
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cmz4bx@virginia.edu 

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[1] See Noah Coco, Ramping Up to a Tasty Spring, Va. L. Weekly (Mar. 27, 2024), https://www.lawweekly.org/col/2024/3/28/ramping-up-to-a-tasty-spring.

[2] Before proceeding, it is probably worth including a disclaimer at this point. Wild mushrooms can be severely toxic. Consequently, none of these identifications purport to endorse consumption or even handling of wild mushrooms. In light of my abundant ignorance on the subject of mycology, all identifications should probably be presumed to be incorrect.

[3] Alternatives: Rosy Russula (Russula sanguinea); Creamy Russula (Russula cremoricolor)

[4] Alternatives: Flowerpot Parasol (Leucocopinus birnbaumii); Leucocopinus (Leucocopinus straminellus)

[5] LeuCOCOprinus fragilissimus.

[6] Please.

[7] Alternative: Common Fieldcap (Agrocybe pediades)

[8] See all preceding disclaimers and warnings about consumption, supra.

Slaughtering the Slaughter Hall Artworks

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Andrew Allard ‘25 
Editor-in-Chief 

It is often said that a picture is worth a thousand words. This is, of course, an erroneous conclusion resulting from sampling error. The average picture is worth no more than a few words. Could you say a thousand words about your most recent selfie? Or that blurry photo you took of the sunset? Come on.

Ironically, the “thousand words” axiom is often used to refer to pictures worth well more than a thousand words. There are over five thousand words about the Mona Lisa in its Wikipedia article alone.

But I digress. Much has been said recently in the pages of this paper about the unceremonious destruction of the Slaughter Hall staircase—and much remains to be said. But little has been said about the no less unceremonious removal of the student org posters that once graced Slaughter Hall.

Whatever the (in)accuracy of the “thousand words” cliché, the artworks in Slaughter Hall that have supplanted the student org posters are worth at least a few hundred words. And here I am committing them to paper. There you are reading them. Hi.

All but one of the new pieces in Slaughter Hall are unlabeled, so I do not know who the artists are.[1] But it seems possible from some repeated motifs that they are from a singular source. At the very least, they were apparently curated with a theme in mind. Since they are not labeled, I will assume the honor of (informally) titling them.

1.  The Elastic Wasteland

This eye-catching and provocative piece inspired the article that you now read. This imposing canvas greets visitors arriving through the Law School’s western entrance, towering above the middle of Slaughter Hall and adjacent to the Purcell Reading room. The largest of the four pieces in this segment of Slaughter Hall, The Elastic Wasteland is at home in the intimidatingly named “Slaughter” Hall.

But the grandiosity of The Elastic Wasteland is not its only intimidating characteristic. The bands that crisscross the canvas appear to mark a crime scene. “Do not cross.” Adding to this impression is the bloody crimson of some of the bands, all of which appear tattered and worn. Visitors are promptly warned that they have entered a building in which solemn stories are told and perhaps even created.

Pictured: The Elastic Wasteland 
Photo Credit: Glorious EIC, Blessed Be His Name

The layering of the bands also creates a noticeable depth to the piece. The sense of space created by the artist’s use of a third dimension meets with the horizontal and vertical bands bordering the piece—among the few bands not oriented at an angle—to create a cage-like appearance. Is this a commentary on the bonds of the criminal justice system and the role that law students play in sustaining it? Indeed, the red, (off) white, and blue colors of the bands make an obvious allusion to the American flag, and by extension our system of government.

Or does the cage refer to the law student experience itself—that students are “trapped” in three years of classes before they may roam free in their sought-after careers? This latter interpretation may seem unlikely, given the Law School’s reputation for a high quality of life. But the piece creates a palpable malaise. The bands also resemble the surface of a rubber band ball, which quite accurately reflects the feeling that the piece elicits—tension. With all the anxieties that this artwork represents—the flawed American criminal justice system and feelings of imprisonment—it is no wonder that law students, much like an over-stretched rubber band, are too often on the verge of snapping.

2.  All The World’s

Four red and white orbs lie at the center of this piece, reflected along a red and white horizon. The orbs are cast partially in shadow, masking the offset checkerboard pattern on their surfaces. Red—associated in Western tradition with life, blood, and passion—meets white—representing light or perhaps even bone. Its placement next to The Elastic Wasteland builds on that piece’s violent motifs. But it promotes a far more optimistic response. The stripes encircle the orbs; they are the pathways on the myriad journeys that we take on this Earth.

Pictured: All the World’s
Photo Credit: Glorious EIC, Blessed Be His Name

3.  Checker’d Past

Checker’d Past continues the checkerboard-esque motif of All the World’s, though more overtly, a characteristic it shares with the only new named piece, Robert Reed’s Tree for Mine, Snap, Crackle, Bop (1988).

The piece depicts a series of checkerboards, tiled together and cropped by a circular frame. Each checkerboard varies in its size, color, and orientation—no two are exactly alike. These distinct panels reflect the unique individuals whose stories unfold in the Law School’s halls. The choice of a checkerboard pattern reflects the strategizing that allows students to survive three years at this elite institution. Each of their strategies and stories—like the patterns or a game of chess—is unique.

The cropping of the checkerboards at the outer rim of the piece is a reminder that we do not and cannot know everyone’s history. Each person is a universe, and in the brief time that we roam these halls, we cannot know them all. Scattered among the checkerboards are four large white squares, perhaps reflecting those stories that remain untold or that have not yet begun.

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tya2us@virginia.edu

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[1] Out of respect for Robert Reed, I will not subject his work to my pathetic attempts at art criticism. But since the other ones are unlabeled, I consider them fair game.

Slaughter Stairs Tribute Contest

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Elizabeth Patten '25 
Chief of Stolen Memories, Slaughter Stairs Remembrance Committee 

As summer fades into a crisp fall, life on David A. Harrison III’s humble Law Grounds has started all over again for all but one – the Slaughter Stairs. In an act of untrammeled malevolence, the administration laid waste to the well-trodden staircase in May. Nothing remains but a lone and level wall. It is with profound sadness that we usher in this new architectural season for UVA Law.

Since time immemorial, the Slaughter Stairs have literally and figuratively elevated generations of weary law students. They allowed us to ascend the heights of the law school with ease–side by side, in the glorious open air. In the wake of their unreasonable slaughter, our rite of passage and our collegial ethos have been illegitimately burdened. We now fight for our lives within narrow, inconvenient stairwells. Returned to a state of nature, we both suffer and commit a parade of horribles with each new passing period. Our only form of solace is in the knowledge that Thomas Jefferson slumbers eternally in his grave, blissfully ignorant of the aesthetic and logistical tragedy that has besmirched his academical village.

We pray for relief from our perilous situation. However, our scholarly pursuit of the law has taught us that litigation is an imperfect arbiter of justice. We may not be able to restore what we’ve lost. But we can follow in the steps of the stairs and rise above this trial.

In such spirit, the Slaughter Stairs Remembrance Committee invites you to submit an original poem in tribute to the stairs. Poems should be submitted to Malia Takei ’25, the Committee’s Chief of Overflowing Tears, at nfm4de@virginia.edu. Please identify the subject line as “Slaughter Stairs Tribute.” Entries will not be accepted after 11:59 PM on October 23, 2024.

The winning poem will be announced on October 30, 2024, on the front page of the Law Weekly. The poem will be framed and hung in the stairs’ final resting place, the new conference room in the Student Affairs Suite. Student Affairs will also perform a ceremonial reading of the poem during a public vigil for the stairs later this semester. Details will be announced at a later date.

The administration has whitewashed the wreckage of our colossal loss behind the Slaughter Wall. But our community cannot allow the stairs to be so easily erased. Together, we must keep their memory alive—forever lifting us up, if only in our hearts.

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Law School Celebrates Mid-Autumn Festival!

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Kelly Wu, Himani Gubbi, & Emily Becker ‘27 
Staff Editors

The Mid-Autumn Festival, also known as the Moon Festival, began as a tradition during the Shang Dynasty in China (c. 1600–1046 BCE). As the legend goes, Hou Yi was a talented archer tasked with shooting down nine of the ten suns in the sky to save the world from unbearable heat.[1] When his mission was complete, he was rewarded with an elixir of immortality. Neither he nor his wife, Chang-e, wished to take the elixir as there was only enough for one of them. However, when a thief entered their home, Chang-e drank the elixir to keep it out of the hands of the thief and ascended to the moon as the Moon Goddess. Missing his wife, Hou Yi started making food offerings, including mooncakes, to the moon and worshiping it in hopes of being reunited with his love. While many different versions of the story exist, the significance of the moon in Chinese culture has continued to be a theme present in modern celebrations of the Mid-Autumn Festival.

Held on the fifteenth day of the eighth month of the lunar calendar, the Mid-Autumn Festival landed on Tuesday, September 17 this year. Nowadays, the celebration is a harvest festival, akin to American Thanksgiving, where families gather, hang lanterns, host a feast, lay out offerings for the moon, and eat mooncakes! 

 Event Review

Sometimes, the reward for a long night of homework is a mooncake, a lantern, and some intergenerational advice. Such was the case last Tuesday, when the Asian Pacific American Law Students Association (“APALSA”) held its annual Mid-Autumn Festival. If you braved the rain to trek all the way to the Law School, or you stumbled out of the library in a daze after reading a rambling SCOTUS dissent, you would have come across a lively celebration in Room WB 104. A full spread of snacks—including the much sought-after mooncakes and one of my childhood staples, Pockys—abounded. A lantern tutorial video ran on loop (which was surprisingly mesmerizing), as students congregated to assemble their own lanterns. 

APALSA goes out of its way to incorporate 1L students into the club before the school year formally begins, meaning that by the time the festival rolled around, many 1Ls had been paired with mentors and had attended a few events. The gathering was punctuated by mentor-mentee reunions, advice about LRW memos, and stories of 3L shenanigans for the 1Ls and 2Ls to look forward to. The festival was as much  a celebration of local community as it was a recognition of a larger tradition.

 Mooncake Review

It started on a chaotic note: “Unfortunately it seems there was a miscommunication . . . they have already put out the moon[cakes] on the free food table! Get ‘em before they’re gone!” said the message in the APALSA Groupme. The precious mooncakes went up for the ravenous student body to consume a whole seven hours before promised. After pulling some favors from my friends (shoutout to them), I was able to get my hands on two mini mooncakes—strawberry and black sesame with walnuts (or so I presume from the fillings). Not to fret though, there were also pieces of larger traditional mooncakes at the Mid-Autumn Festival event—classic lotus seed paste and red bean.  

Starting with the mini mooncakes, the smaller size led to a more-pastry-than-filling mouthful, the crust chewy with a bit of a sweet and crumbly finish. They were golden but lacked a bit of crispness lost to the moist filling and packaging. The strawberry flavor was sweetened a bit too much, which overpowered the delicate flavor of strawberry. The black sesame and walnut flavor was a more exciting experience, with the texture of whole black sesame seeds and crushed walnuts adding some bite and texture, and the rich nuttiness mixing with the sweet paste filling and crust. There were also nuggets of crystallized citrus that added an acidic note to cut through the nuttiness. Overall, a 5/10 and 7/10, respectively. 

The larger traditional mooncakes, however, stole the show. Even the smallest sliver of either the red bean or the lotus seed was rich and decadent with the crust offering a textural contrast. The red bean was almost chocolatey rich with a deep umami sweetened lightly to bring out the lightness of the beans. The lotus seed was nutty, similar to sesame seed paste, and a little less ganache-y in texture than the bean. Both were lovely little morsels to celebrate a wonderful Mid-Autumn Festival. 9/10.

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gcu2vn@virginia.edu, eej4pb@virginia.edu, ejb6zt@virginia.edu 

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[1] A legend that has enduring relevance.

Third Annual 1L Section Softball Team Name Rankings

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Noah Coco '26 
Managing Editor

Many rich traditions color the student experience at this historic institution: the William Minor Lile Moot Court Competition, the PILA Auction, the 2L Midway Toast, and now, made official in the year of our Lord two thousand twenty-four, the Law Weekly’s annual ranking of 1L section softball team names.

Nestled amid the many tasks requested of new 1Ls in the bustle of orientation is the unwittingly consequential selection of a softball team name. For this third-annual edition of the Law Weekly’s 1L Section Softball Team Name Rankings, I put these names under review on their merits. Although my predecessors have employed various criteria in assessing the 1L and LL.M. softball team names, this year’s criteria include the following; (1) general vibes, (2) inclusion and quality of both legal and softball/baseball puns, and (3) originality. Yes, that means this process is highly subjective and arbitrary. Rankings are nonetheless final. Any misguided appeals should be submitted for adjudication by the Court of Petty Appeals.

First Place

Injunctive Relievers (I)

This is the high watermark of softball team names. Effortlessly whimsical. Quality legal and softball/baseball puns. The satisfyingly classic “[adjective] [nouns]” construction. Chef’s kiss. Congratulations, Section I, on this venerable honor.

Second Place

Bad News Barristers (B)

This was a tough contest. This is an objectively solid name with all the trappings of a gold medal finisher. In terms of construction, I have no notes. Just one thing bothers me, though. I admittedly have never seen the movie, so I watched the trailer of the original Bad News Bears. The trailer featured language and behavior on the baseball field that I would charitably call, erm, “uncollegial.” I needed to break the tie, so for that reason alone, second place it shall be. 

Third Place

Cases Loaded (C)

Great pun, just not as great as the gold and silver medalists. Nonetheless, the invocation of impending victory creates an alluring feeling of suspense. It invites optimism that will translate into success on and off the field. And yet, it is still refreshingly simple and clean. 

Fourth Place – Honorable Mention

Jurist Dingers (J)

To be honest, a single letter kept this name off the podium: the ill-fated “t.” Omitting the “t” would have given us “Juris Dingers,” which is consistent with the actual words behind the “JD” degree. At best, this was a typo worthy of depriving this name of a podium finish. At worst, Section J had no idea they were even making a pun? Seems unlikely, so I will assume the former. Either way, I like the attempt at what otherwise is a quality legal and softball pun.

Fifth Place

Dingers on Docket (D)

This name is fine, but that’s about it. Sure, there is both a legal and softball/baseball reference, but it lacks a compelling pun to pull it all together. However, I do absolutely adore alliteration, and it has an amusingly rhythmic cadence that justifies an above median ranking.

Sixth Place

Foul Play (F)

Meh. I guess I see what Section F was going for, but it just doesn’t work for me. Also, fouls aren’t a good thing—especially in baseball/softball, where it connotes only a misplaced hit becoming a strike, without even the option for violence (as in basketball)? This name does not exactly inspire exemplary on-field performance.

Seventh Place

Acing and Abatting (A)

Perhaps this surprises you, Section A. “What a great use of both legal and sports puns, and an excellent showcase of our section’s letter,” you must have thought. Alas, the second-place finisher in the inaugural 2022 ranking invoked the same pun. Points docked for lack of originality. I don’t presume you simply copied Sections A’s 2022 team name, but my own rules compel me to reach this outcome. I did tell you this ranking was arbitrary. It’s not your fault. What is your fault, though, is the curious attempt at a second pun by using the generic sports term “Acing” instead of “Aiding”? Too much is going on, and I don’t like it.

Eighth Place

Hit and Run (H)

Section H, your team name suffers similar defects as Section A. Although likely unwittingly, your team name takes from Section H’s 2023 bronze medal-winning team name, The Hit ‘N Runners. Even worse, though, you stripped it of its cute construction. What remains is a grainy picture of a photograph that merely states a command to perform the bare minimum actions necessary to win a game of softball.

Ninth Place (LL.M.s)

Omnishock

I am not really sure what the LL.M.s were going for here. Although the name has a sort of menacing character to it, it otherwise does not satisfy my ranking criteria. But fortunately, I really like the LL.M.s. Moreover, I am bound by the law of the land, and that law instructs that “1Ls always lose.”[1] I will therefore rank the LL.M.s no lower than ninth place and will happily oblige in finding 1L Sections to round out the remaining ranks.

Tenth Place

Goodwill Bunting (G)

I struggled with this one. Props to Section G for using a softball/baseball pun, but the praise abruptly ends there. Have you seen the movie you are alluding to? It’s about math. That being said, vibes alone redeem this name from relegation to “dead last,” which it indeed was until the final edit of this piece.

Dead Last

Clearly Erroneous (E)

This name is clearly lacking (Section E really teed that one up for me).[2] No puns, legal or softball related. No whimsical turn of phrase. No spark. What we have is a dry recitation of the standard of review in civil appellate proceedings found in Rule 52(a) of the Federal Rules of Civil...sorry I fell asleep while typing that. Well done finding a legal term that begins with the letter “E,” I guess. But Section E failed in any way to emphasize the “E” in the name—“E-rroneous,” “(E)rroneous,” and the like—to add character or personality to the name.

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cmz4bx@virginia.edu 

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[1] Liberals Who Are Bad At Using Canva v. The Federalist Society at UVA Law, 76 U.Va 4 (2023).

[2] See, that’s how easy softball/baseball puns can be.

And Now For Something Completely Different…

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Ryan Moore '25 
Law Weekly Historian 

Upon returning from summer break, the Law Weekly staff received an anonymous letter at our office. The letter was signed by “Ron, a concerned citizen,” who wishes to bring awareness to copyright infringement and the poor state of contemporary American fiction. What follows is an excerpt from his letter.

Detective Ronald McDonald stood at the edge of the crime scene, the neon lights of the McDonald’s sign casting an eerie glow on the wrappers scattered behind the dumpster. His face, once painted brightly in hues of red and yellow, now wore the faded expression of one who ate too many cold McNuggets.

The press had dubbed the perp the "Hamserialkiller," a twisted fiend who roamed the streets of Fry City, leaving a trail of murdered Double McCheeseburgers in his wake. The victims were always found behind McDonald's parking lots, their wrappers crumpled, their pickles missing.

Ronald took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke mingling with the cold night air. Two months from retirement, he was haunted by a killer who defiled the sacred ground of the Golden Arches. His police sergeant, Officer Big Mac, had teamed him up with Grimace, a rookie cop with a chip on his broad, purple shoulders.

Grimace approached, his bulky frame casting a shadow over the crime scene. “Ronald,” he said in a shrill voice, “they say this Hamserialkiller is one twisted patty melt.”

Ronald nodded in agreement and flicked his cigarette into the darkness. “Twisted enough to murder fourteen Double McCheeseburgers over the last two years. We need to catch this Son of a Fry before he kills again.”

Grimace nodded. “I’m with you, partner. But Mayor McCheese wants a briefing on this latest murder. In person.”

Ronald arched an eyebrow. “Mayor McCheese? What does that crooked public servant want with us?” Maybe the Mayor had some beef with these burgers.

They walked through the streets of Fry City, the echoes of their footsteps drowned out by the distant hum of a drive-thru. Outside Mayor McCheese's office, Detective McDonald couldn't shake an ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Inside, Mayor McCheese sat behind his desk, his cheesy grin stretching from ear to ear. “Detectives! So glad you could make it. Any leads on this so-called Hamserialkiller?”

Grimace spoke first. “The Hamserialkiller has struck again, Mayor. Our department is still unable to identify any possible suspects; we were hoping your office could approve an emergency budget request for additional police resources.”

Mayor McCheese chuckled, the sound as artificial as the cheese on a Filet-O-Fish. “Detectives, I would love to help you, but I can’t spare any more resources. I’m just a humble public servant.” The mayor’s assistant, a tall Mcflurry, entered the room and pointed to their watch.

“Detectives, thank you for meeting with me but I have other matters to attend to.”

Ronald’s eyes narrowed. Something was off, but Detective McDonald couldn’t quite place it. His experience had taught him that in Fry City, the truth was as elusive as a working ice cream machine.

Grimace reached into his pocket and pulled out his business card. “Mayor, if you ever need anything from us, please reach out.” He felt around his pockets for his missing pen. “Actually, Mayor, can I borrow a pen? I can give you my personal cell, too.”

The Mayor nodded and opened his desk drawer. While rummaging around for a pen, the Mayor knocked over a jar. McDonald's blood ran cold. He only caught a glimpse, the Mayor moved too fast for McDonald to get a good look, but he was sure of it. He knew what he saw in the jar.

Fourteen dried pickles.

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tqy7zz@virginia.edu

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Welcome from the Law Weekly Editorial Board

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Andrew Allard ’25
Editor-in-Chief

For the past few days, I’ve noticed an excruciating decrease in “snooze” presses each morning and an even more excruciating increase in parking tickets. This can only mean one thing: The fall semester has begun.

I have been feeling the usual rush of new academic year emotions—excitement, anxiousness, determination, and gratitude. But this year, a few new feelings have been thrown into the mix. I find myself amazed that two years have passed since I began my journey here at the Law School and saddened to know that it will soon come to an end. Where did the time go?

If you are a new student here, you have undoubtedly received no shortage of unsolicited advice. Well, here’s mine: Find your creative outlet. It doesn’t have to be writing for the Law Weekly, but you could do worse! In all seriousness, acts of self-expression—baking, writing, painting, you name it—can go a long way toward easing the stresses of legal education. I am proud to be finishing my law school journey serving as the Editor-in-Chief of this paper. From my first meeting as a bright-eyed 1L editor, working for the Law Weekly has been a sustaining source of joy.

But what would a captain be without his crew? I am fortunate to work with a kindhearted and humorous staff of intrepid reporters. They are so kind, in fact, that I am hoping perhaps they will not mutiny against me in the spring, as is tradition at the paper. We’ll see.

While you’re sure to meet us sooner or later, scribbling notes at a Law School event near you, we thought you might like to know who’s behind the raving and rambling writings that haunt the halls. So without further ado, meet your Law Weekly E-Board!

Editor-in-Chief Andrew Allard is a 3L from Seacoast, New Hampshire. After graduating from George Washington University in 2019, he worked in Northern Virginia researching Chinese technology policy. Andrew enjoys playing frisbee, brewing coffee, and making croissants, even if his pale in comparison to the ones at Cou Cou Rachou.

Executive Editor Garrett Coleman is a 3L who was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area. He graduated from Boston College in 2022, with a degree in Economics and Philosophy. Beyond the Law Weekly, Garrett enjoys playing softball and golf. His 3LOL activity will be learning how to ride a horse.

 Features Editor Ashanti Jones ’26 is a 2L from Ashland, Virginia. She graduated from the College of William & Mary with a B.A. in Public Policy and Government. Ashanti enjoys long walks on the beach, Korean BBQ, and almost every competition reality TV show.

Production Editor Nicky Demitry ’26 is a 2L and a military kid with no hometown. She has a Master’s degree in “something humanities” (quote from father) and has worked in the coffee industry, as an LSAT tutor, and as a bartender before law school. You can still find her occasionally bartending on Saturday nights at the Alley Light downtown and at random other bars. She enjoys rainy days, soccer, and a worryingly codependent relationship with her aging dog, who she now home-cooks most meals for like a tradwife. 

Managing Editor Noah Coco ’26  is a 2L from Topton, Pennsylvania. He graduated from the University of Pittsburgh in 2019 before working for several years in Washington, DC for a financial technology company. Outside of the Law Weekly, Noah is often seen around grounds walking his friendly black pitbull, Lilah, or heading out to one of the local wineries (most likely King Family Vineyards).

Some Advice for the 1Ls

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Garrett Coleman ’25
Executive Editor

Another year, another opportunity for me to preach to 1Ls reading this paper. As a 2L, I had to write the annual 1L advice column, but I chose to be painfully abstract. While enjoyable to read, it left little in the way of practical guidance. So, I have returned to fix that and offer a list of easy to digest tips for 1Ls who want to start their legal careers on the right foot.

1) Use Friday or Saturday morning as a time to review the previous week. I know . . . reviewing is the most tedious form of studying. But it is also the most helpful. These weeks will fly by, and many of your classes will jump between topics. What an end-of-the-week review session offers is a chance to solidify those ephemeral concepts into real understanding. I suggest incorporating your best class notes into your reading notes and adjusting each for any discrepancies or redundancies.

2) Take a law school [s]abbath. At least in the beginning of the school year, you should have the time on either Saturday or Sunday to completely disconnect from your legal education. Ride a bike, play pickleball, or read about the Roman Empire. Drink some fluids if Bar Review was the night before. The important thing is that you give yourself some time to rest and enjoy the things and people you loved before law school. While things feel busy, 99 percent of you have the time to do this with proper discipline during the week.

3) Start the 1L summer job search early but lightly. Do not stress about it, since there will be very few opportunities before Christmas break. However, if you have some down time in October or early November, I recommend brainstorming some ideas and lightly drafting your application documents so you can launch as quickly as possible. The Office of Private Practice will have more concrete suggestions. You won’t want to push this until after finals, when your brain is mushy.

4) Prioritize health. Eating well, exercising, and sleeping improve your mental performance. There is no way of getting around that. And, again barring unforeseen personal issues, 1Ls should have the time to work on those three pillars. During my 1L year, I tried to cut corners on some of these. But life, including my academic performance, would always improve when I got them back in check.

5) Do the reading before class. You think it would be simple. But life gets in the way, and you will be tempted to push it off. The problem with doctrinal classes, though, is that topics compound on one another. So your skipped days compound into serious gaps in understanding. When outline season comes around, and you see a two week gap in your reading notes, you will hate yourself. Try to avoid this by doing the reading before class.

6) Ask upperclassmen questions. We don’t do much! And we love giving advice, as you can tell from this article. For the big events of this year, like exams or journal tryouts, talking to a 2 or 3L over coffee can be very helpful. If anything, we can calm you down, since your imagination will make these things scarier than they are.

7) Don’t be a[n] [insert preferred expletive]. First impressions die hard. And the people around you are more than classmates–they are also future colleagues, whose referrals you will need. Not to mention, they are people deserving of respect. Share notes; invite others to study groups; refrain from preaching in class, etc.

8) Go to office hours. I am personally terrible at this. And that is mostly because I worry about having enough questions to ask. When I don’t understand something, I usually can’t formulate a question in the first place. In my experience, though, professors are more than happy to help if you just point at a topic and grunt. Okay, maybe more than that, but an acceptable question could be: “I have not understood personal jurisdiction since Pennoyer. Could you please briefly explain what the court is trying to do at this step?” And even if you somehow manage to ask an irksome question, we have blind grading!

9) Play a full roster on your section softball team. Don’t be that team that restricts the batting lineup to the nine most athletic players.

10) Have fun! Hopefully, you came to law school because you have some interest in reading, writing, speaking, government, politics, or ethics. Law school is a great outlet for those types of people. Many of the cases have fun stories–like when a single plank blew up an entire ship. Being called on in class will test your speaking abilities under high stress. And everything you study will have some impact on the lives of ordinary people. Enjoy the opportunity to spend three years thinking with a group of brilliant people.

"Imminent Domain" and the Rat King

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Nicky Demitry '26 
Production Editor 

In a stunning turn of events, local developer Wyatt Güy (it’s German) has declared his intention to exercise a lesser-known legal maneuver known as “imminent domain” in order to seize control of the long-abandoned Dewberry building in downtown C’ville.

While most citizens are familiar with the concept of eminent domain, where the government can acquire private property for public use, imminent domain flips this attribute of political sovereignty on its head. In this case, it is the citizen(s) who are eager to acquire the government's property, or at least hold it hostage until something is done about it.[1]

Pictured: Rat King asserts adverse possession of Dewberry Building 
Photo Credit: Nicky Demitry 

Güy, known for his bold real estate ventures and penchant for controversy, has vowed to "rescue" the Dewberry building from its roughly 15-year slumber. However, his plan involves a hefty price tag for the city – a sum that many speculate could rival the GDP of a small country.

"It's simple economics," Güy explained with a smirk. “The City has neglected this prime real estate for far too long. Now, they'll have to pay the price – quite literally.”

The Dewberry building, also called the “rotting heart of Charlottesville,”[2]  “the Parthenon of C’ville,” and “the lair of Ushegrim the Plaguebringer and His Rat Horde,” has become a notorious eyesore for over a decade. Its hulking metal frame serves as a grim reminder of bureaucratic inertia, also sometimes called “70k a year in property taxes to the city.”[3]

"It's about time someone took matters into their own hands," remarked local resident Sheila Thompson. "If the city won't do anything about it, why not let someone else have a go? Like the rats? They need a place to live too. When does adverse possession kick in?”

But not everyone is amused by Güy’s audacious scheme. City officials have called his bluff, insisting that they have no intention of relinquishing control of the Dewberry building – at least not without a fight.

Pictured: Victims of Rat King 
Photo Credit: Nicky Demitry 

"The Doctrine of Imminent Domain does not apply when we refuse to acknowledge or take actual possession of the property,” argued Vice Mayor Prian Binkston. “The Dewberry still technically belongs to John Dewberry, who pays us to keep this rat party going. And more importantly, do you wish to anger the rǎtş? Have you looked upon the face of the Rat-King? Have you ever felt real fear?”

Meanwhile, Güy remains undeterred, confident that he holds all the cards in this high-stakes game of rat real estate roulette. “Imminent domain, eminent domain – call it what you will,” Güy quipped. "But at the end of the day, it's all about who's got the deepest pockets—NOT the biggest or most mutant rats, trust me on that.”

As the battle for control of the Hellsmouth Dewberry building heats up, one thing is certain: we cannot—cannot—anger the rǎtş.[4]

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ncd8kt@virginia.edu 

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[1] This doctrine has most notably been used in recent times in defense of the “insurrectionists” that “stormed the Capitol Building.” Their counsel, an “attorney” who has “not yet passed the bar,” and goes only by her initials (NCD) went on record wearing a balaclava to say, “This bold new legal strategy asserts that these Patriots were merely exercising their right to ‘imminent domain.’ We all know that eminent—I mean, imminent domain is an inherent attribute of political sovereignty. My clients are aware that imminent domain mandates that the property seized be utilized for “public good,” and maintain their seizure of a table from the Lower West Terrace of the Capitol Building was indeed for public good. As in, members of the ‘public’ put it to ‘good’ use by reimagining it as a battering ram against the police.” See CBS News, Conservative social media influencer charged for her role in Jan. 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol.

[2] “They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night…Have we not a perpetual inclination, in the teeth of our best judgment, to violate that which is Law, merely because we understand it to be such?...it is the beating of his hideous heart!” -MontrealBagelFan on Reddit, obviously referencing Poe.

[3] The city says the developer paid $71,902.08 in 2022, and $70,693.26 in 2021. See 29 News, The Dewberry stands empty, and it’s silence from the developers.

[4] I’d like to go on record stating that I legit love rats, but I do divide them into Day Rats and Night Rats, and the Night Rats once stole a scallop from me. Also, how funny is it that the city tried to file a blight suit in 2013 and Dewberry was literally just like “nah.” Bro this isn’t even your building anymore, it belongs to the rats.

Write Now, or Forever Hold Your Peace

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Monica Sandu '24 
Production Editor Emerita 

Two weeks ago, I invoked 3L privilege to avoid being assigned an article by Editor-in-Chief Andrew Allard ’25, in what can only be described as a Law Weekly cold call. However, rather than feeling relieved to avoid an additional responsibility for the week, I was struck by a profound sense of bittersweet melancholy, an almost nostalgic yearning for a time not yet gone. “I’m a 3L,” I realized. “I’m graduating in May. This is my last chance to write for the Law Weekly.” But what was I to write about?

My first thought was something to do with graduation regalia, why we wear it in the first place, what its colors mean, and so on. In fact, I had even come up with a glorious title: “Pomp and Circumstance: A History of Law School Regalia.”  But did I really want my last hurrah to be a well-cited summary of Wikipedia?[1] “No,” I thought, “I want to make something special.” So, I thought I’d share with you all my Law Weekly journey and explain just how much this paper has come to mean to me.

Perhaps the most striking thing to me about my time on the Law Weekly is how close it came to never happening at all. I was but a wide-eyed 1L wandering the wilds of Spies Garden[2] during the Fall Activity Fair. It was there that I naïvely signed up for as many mailing lists as I thought sounded interesting.[3] But one table in particular drew me in. A table surrounded by surprisingly athletic and energetic students in too-short gym shorts who were extremely eager to talk to me as soon as I glanced their way. The first person I spoke with from the Law Weekly was then-Editor-in-Chief Phil Tonseth ’22, whose promises of pizza and light copy-editing had me intrigued. More than anything, however, I was eager to meet new people and to join a social group on Grounds. Even though I was only two and a half hours away from my hometown, it may as well have been on the other side of the world for how out of my depth I felt those first few weeks—and I was grateful for any sort of guidance my 2L and 3L elders could give me. And so, although I’d never worked on a newspaper before, I attended that Monday’s Law Weekly meeting. Although I still felt like some stranger who had barged in on a group of friends, my worries were eased by the presence of other Section A 1Ls, including future Editor-in-Chief Nikolai Morse ’24. Using gel pens, we got to work manually checking printed out articles for spelling errors, bolstered by fresh Dominos. The meeting ended around 6:00 pm that evening, and I walked away from it a mixture of disappointed and anxious. “It’s such a huge time commitment,” I thought. “If I join, I’m scared I’ll fail 1L.” At that moment, I decided that the Law Weekly wasn’t for me.

But something got me to come back the next week. At some point in my discussion with other editors, I learned that the Law Weekly no longer had a cartoonist. I’d always loved to draw, and I figured that drawing something every week wouldn’t take nearly as much time as writing a full article. I came up with a cartoon entitled “Spies Garden,” featuring spy figures in trench coats and dark sunglasses popping out of flowers. I attended the meeting that week to submit my cartoon. And then I attended the next week. And the next week. And the week after that. The first event I ever wrote about was a panel of lawyers who spoke to 1Ls about what a career in government would look like. I had brought my laptop and was taking copious notes, making sure not to miss a thing. There was a sense of pride in being there as a journalist, in getting the scoop on events at the Law School. All I was missing was my press badge.

Come spring elections, I knew that I wanted to get more involved in the paper, and so I, as a rising 2L, became a co-executive editor of the Law Weekly, shifting my role from a more writing (and cartooning) intensive one to a more editorial role. Nevertheless, during 2L, I would use my platform at the Law Weekly to write different articles I was passionate about, from how to start a student organization to a history of Romanian folk dancing and an in-depth review of Eurovision every year. I took pride every week when I saw my name printed in the colophon. Whenever I had an article published, I would take pictures of it and send it to my family group chat.[4] And I never had to worry about cooking Monday night dinner.

By the time I was a rising 3L, I was full of ambition. Although I initially planned to run for Editor-in-Chief, it came up in my discussion with then-Editor-in-Chief Dana Lake ’23 that I had taken a graphic design class in high school where I had actually learned InDesign. Because of this experience, Dana suggested instead that I run for Production Editor. The rest is history.[5] The new Law Weekly executive board, headed by Nikolai Morse ’24 with current Editor-in-Chief Andrew Allard ’25 (then Executive Editor) and me as Production Editor, got off to an (understandably) slow start as we tried to get our bearings. If I thought hanging around until 6:00pm was late, imagine my worries when, on that first evening, we didn’t finish putting together the paper until nearly 10:00 pm. The old anxiety returned; what had I gotten myself into?  But with every week, we became an increasingly better-oiled machine. At first we were done at 9:30 pm, then 9:00 pm, then 8:00 pm, and so on. Sometimes, we’d even finish before sunset if we were extra efficient (and when the time change was in our favor). I got to know InDesign’s quirks, learned to laugh when it inevitably crashed (which it does at least once a meeting), and memorized all the tools and shortcuts I needed. And I got to do it all while surrounded by my wonderful friends.[6]

Reflecting now on my legacy at the Law Weekly, it doesn’t feel real that this is the last time I’ll be writing an article as a student. Even after the elections and the installation of the new executive board, I’ve hung around to train our new Production Editor Nicky Demitry ’26 and help out where I can. To think that in a few weeks I’ll be leaving this all behind, I can’t help but feel emotional. In the Law Weekly, I found an opportunity to explore events I never would have attended otherwise, an outlet for my creativity, and a family that is unparalleled here at UVA Law. Thank you, Law Weekly, for being one of the best things in law school. It’s been an honor and a privilege to be here all three years. I’ll always cherish my time with you.

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ms7mn@virginia.edu

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[1] In case you are curious, here you go: Academic dress in the United States, Wikipedia (last accessed Apr. 2, 2024). See also https://www.academicapparel.com/caps/Academic-Hood-Development.html.

[2] Back when I was still pronouncing it to rhyme with “eyes.”

[3] Some of these lists still send me emails to this day.

[4] I always grab multiple copies of the paper to give my family whenever I can.

[5] You’d be surprised how effective “graphic design is my passion” can be as a campaign slogan!

[6] And the occasional enemy ☺

Which Law School Class Are You, Based on your Zodiac Sign?

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Julia D'Rozario '24 
New Media Editor 

Welcome back to the Law School Astrology series. This week’s Law Weekly will be the last edition of my 3L year, making this the third, and final, installment of the series.  It’s bittersweet—bitter, because I love writing these, and sweet, because I’ll finally be able to stop looking over my shoulder for enraged, pitchfork-wielding Sagittarians.[1] With that said, keep reading for one last poorly researched, deeply biased take: Which Law School class are you, based on your zodiac sign?

Capricorn (December 22 – January 19)

Patent Law

Capricorns have an unfortunate reputation for being snobby and unapproachable. But the truth is, you’re really not! People are intimidated by your intellect and don’t take the time to get to know you and realize that you can actually be incredibly fun. For this reason, you are Patent Law. I’m in the class now, and the number of people who have told me that they “could never” is absurd. If you’re reading this and have an interest in intellectual property, just go for it. I swear you don’t need a tech background. Capricorn, you may feel like people just don’t “get” you… and you’d be right. But I really like you anyway.

Aquarius (January 20 – February 18)

Torts

Aquarians are the human equivalent to those Torts fact-patterns they teach to 1Ls. Every once in a while, you’ll encounter one that’s borderline normal. But the other 99% of the time your immediate thought is just, “how in the ever-loving f*** did this happen?” How does a snail get into a ginger beer? Who takes a bunch of sheep on a boat and just lets them roam loose on board? Why would you ever get on The Flopper if you didn’t want to fracture your knees?

Pisces (February 19 – March 20)

Legal Aid Justice Center Clinics

Pisceans are widely considered to be the “empaths” of the zodiac. You are known for being tender-hearted and emotional; this, in turn, makes you sympathetic to the needs of the people around you. Like the various Legal Aid clinics, you are driven by your desire to help others.

Aries (March 21 – April 19)

Negotiation

You are fun, I’ll give you that. But you’re also entirely unhinged. You’re essentially a permanent manifestation of the unscrupulous, shenanigan-prone negotiation goblin that emerges from the depths of the human psyche during an in-class Negotiation simulation exercise. And, like those Negotiation simulations, my memories of you trigger my fight-or-flight response.

Taurus (April 20 – May 20)

Seminar in Ethical Values

If you’ve ever taken a Seminar in Ethical Values, and if you’ve ever met a Taurus, you know this comparison is a no-brainer. I’ve previously compared Tauruses to a fuzzy blanket or a sunny Spring afternoon—which is to say, laid-back, wholesome, peaceful. Seminars in Ethical Values have that exact same vibe. I like.

Gemini (May 21 – June 21)

Constitutional Law

Gemini, as a constellation, is known as “the Twins”, and Geminis are recognized for their inherent duality. At your best, you are flexible, easy-going, and curious about the world around you. At your worst, however, you can be non-committal, inconsistent, and flaky. Like Constitutional Law.[2]

Cancer (June 22 – July 22)

Law and Literature

I quite literally recommend this class to everyone. It’s fun, unique, and has made an immensely positive impact on my time in law school. There is also no other class in the law school where you will read something and then get asked, “how did that make you feel?” Like Law and Literature, I believe everyone needs an emotional-support Cancer to improve their law school experience and talk about their feelings with.

Leo (July 23 – August 22)

Advanced Verbal Persuasion

Leos are known for being charismatic, warm-hearted, and extremely confident—you’re never afraid to take center stage. For this reason, you are Persuasion. I’m in the class now, and I love it. I can be very quiet,[3] and I get nervous before giving a speech, but the class is so welcoming and gentle in nature that it’s slowly pulling me out of my shell. Leo, like Persuasion, your confidence and welcoming nature inspire those around you–even if your extroversion makes us want to hide from you at first.

Virgo (August 23 – September 22)

Evidence

Firstly, I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that both Virgos and Evidence are excessively fixated on rules and order… to the point that no one is having fun anymore. But also, If you’ve read the other installments of this series, you know that I have a long and troubled history of Virgo-related emotional anguish. Therefore, despite recognizing your many good qualities, I choose to actively avoid you. Just as I have avoided taking Evidence, despite being informed like twice a day that I’ll need it for the Bar . . .[4] Vir-Go away.

Libra (September 23 – October 22)

Fed Courts

I’ve written in the past about how Libras are the aesthetes of the zodiac—you are known for being a lover of art, philosophy and intellectualism. While this can manifest as external appreciation, it can also manifest as internal hyper-awareness… you’re extremely concerned with how others perceive you and often find yourself doing things not because you want to, but because you think it will impress others. Like taking Fed Courts. I promise, you don’t have to do this to yourself. No one else cares.

Scorpio (October 23 – November 21)

Repugnant Transactions

Scorpios are often known for their fascination with the weirder, more taboo sides of humanity. Your friend who watches Vice Informer videos in his free time? A Scorpio. Your friend with a My Strange Addiction addiction? Also a Scorpio. Your friend who took Repugnant Transactions, and now won’t stop talking to you about blood and plasma sales, illicit organ markets, sex work, and drug legalization? You guessed it—a Scorpio.

Sagittarius (November 22 – December 21)

Civil Procedure

Why are you the way that you are?

In all seriousness, having been subject to my anti-Sagittarius bias in the last two articles, you may be here searching for answers. Like Civil Procedure, you find yourself thinking, “am I really that bad? Or am I just complicated?” The truth is that you are both complicated and that bad.[5]

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jkd2dd@virginia.edu

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[1] See Julia D’Rozario, Which Niche Area of the Law School Are You, Based on Your Zodiac Sign, Law Weekly, Sep. 21, 2022; Julia D’Rozario, Which Law School Event Are You, Based on your Zodiac Sign, Law Weekly, Sep. 20, 2023. (in which I was extremely mean to Sagittarians, because it’s my article and I can do what I want).

[2] To quote Nikolai Morse ’24, the Chief Justice Emeritus of this fine paper, “Con law is Gemini. Two-sided, always changing, and contradictory. And also moody."

[3] Yes, when I’m not running my mouth about astrology, I’m fairly quiet.

[4] People keep telling me this. I would have had to learn it for the Bar even if I took the class. Rules have a way of flying out of my brain 0.2 seconds after the final.

[5] Last ever Sagittarius disclaimer: as I mentioned in parts one and two, I actually like you. Truth be told, several of my closest friends are Sagittarians. But I do also have exactly one mortal enemy, who is also a Sagittarius. And hell hath no fury like an astrology girl with a keyboard.

Destination Truth: Charlottesville

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Nicky Demitry '26 
Production Editor 

We’ve reached the part of the semester where nothing feels real, so what better time than now to embark on a journey detailing my top cryptids and liminal spaces of Charlottesville, Virginia. Without further introduction:

Top C’ville Cryptids 

1) Professor Paul Freedman at the C’Ville downtown city market, at like 4am. 

Politics professor Paul Freedman teaches (among other things) the politics of food at the College, and enjoys lurking around the farmer’s market, hissing at people and correcting Karens about city ordinances.

2) The White Deer™

It’s a deer. It’s white. I saw it once while rowing on the Rivanna Reservoir. I took a grainy photo. I had good luck until the next time I saw a normal deer.

Pictured: The White Deer 
Photo Credit: Virginia Rieley, CVille Today 

3) Ranger

I’m avoiding naming actual humans in this list for various reasons, but Ranger is an exception because a) I asked and obtained permission, and b) if you go out to bars on the Downtown Mall, you will eventually run across him. My hint for you is sunglasses.

4) Those two lifted dumbass cars that drive laps around the Downtown Mall with loud music, bopping up and down and complete with flashing lights

Love, and also hate. But mostly love. I feel like the cars are friends IRL, outside of the drivers.

5) ZXCV cat

He’s fading a bit now because the artist moved away from Charlottesville. No one really knows what the deal is with this cursed kitty, but I love him, and ZXCV are the four bottom leftmost keys on the keyboard. So there’s that. My favorite thing is the unhinged theories people have posited about ZXCV over the years. See if you can find the remaining ZXCV cats out and about C’Ville.

Pictured: ZXCV Cat 
Photo Credit: r/Charlottesville 

On to Liminal Spaces[1]

1) York Place

On the Downtown Mall, this weird combo mini-mall/apartment building houses Grit Coffee, Marco & Luca Dumplings, a tailor, a nail salon, some other places… honestly, I don’t know. You can walk through it and emerge on the outside of the mall, pointed at South Street Brewery. Does this sound impressive or liminal? No, not really. You gotta experience it for yourself.

2) Dewberry Building when you can hear the rats

C’Ville’s great shame and curse. So much I could write on this saga and on my not-so-secret passion for zoning meetings. But this isn’t about ME, it’s about that weird, uncertain liminality that haunts the towering expanse of Dewberry. Stay tuned for my next piece on eminent domain reform. And stay tuned for the sound of the rats skittering and chittering in the nights, and picture the roiling horde of bodies—remembering of course that we have uncommonly large rats here—coalescing into a rat king. Cute!

3) Miller’s Third

What else can I say? My favorite place to go after working a bar shift, or if I just really want my hair to smell disgustingly of smoke whilst I watch drunk people do increasingly sexual maneuvers at the pool table while they make heavy eye contact with some unlucky soul. Nothing says 1:30 a.m. drinking culture in C’Ville’s tallest bar like bright lights shining mercilessly upon vacant eyes, reddened by cigar/cigarette smoke. Bonus points if you order pretzel bites, a crispy Coors Light, and gaze upon this renaissance in wonder.

4) The old UVA hospital (West Complex)

Really makes you understand why Charlottesville was the Ground Zero for Buck v. Bell (read the fun sign by Region Ten on Preston if you haven’t come across this delightful story in class). Anyway. Shit’s haunted. Went to free therapy there once in grad school and decided I’d be better off just keeping the depression and recurring nightmares of the weird lil dude from Twin Peaks. And in conclusion, here we are.

5) Gilmer Hall basement (scary!)

Stranger Things, IRL. Conspiracies abound. I participated in experiments there as an undergrad for $20 per appointment, and something definitely went wrong with me. I’ve said too much.

6) Zen Gardens at Morven

I’m running out of space, so Google Morven, UVA past lives, UVA Contemplative Sciences, and John Cleese. TL;DR: They’re trying to figure out if kids are actually describing past lives when they’re being all freaky when you’re watching Frozen, pointing at Anna being frozen solid and saying, “That’s how I died before you were my babysitter.” Lmao, ok. Babysit yourself.

7) Where I Got My First Covid Vaccine During Pandemic

A circus tent, paid for by Dave Matthews, in the parking lot of the desiccated husk of a Kmart and an abandoned Gold’s Gym. Across from Whole Foods. Truly dystopian surrealism.

8) Basement of the Law Library, Maritime Section

9) The Texas Roadhouse

I can’t fully endorse, because I am technically banned.[2] But yeah makes you question reality. Red Lobster was worse, and I’m devastated it closed.

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ncd8kt@virginia.edu

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[1] Disclaimer. I have had genuine fights with friends over the definition of a liminal space. At one point I planned to pre-defend my categorizations of liminal spaces listed below, but now I just don’t care. I welcome your letters. I WELCOME THEM.

[2] This is real, and not for the bit.