|
Now Soliciting
Anonymous Comments!
In This Issue
|
|
1. I Like Big Words, and
I Can Not Lie! Baby got
sesquipedalia.
2. Did You Know? A blurb on the ethical rules for
splitting fees.
3. Time to
Split. Susman Godfrey loves to share
contingent fees. Really. I mean
it.
4. Greetings of
the Season. Thank you, sincerely, to
the people who've made 2006 a terrific year.
5. Conditional
War. In which Your Editor tries to
explain why he supposes that words
matter.
6. Hot Lunch.
Yes, I have a nickname.
7. Message from
God.
Cartoon. | |
|
If nucular scientists can split the atom, lawyers can split
contingent fees.
Did You Know?
Ethical rules that govern fee division
between law firms vary by jurisdiction, but all
recognize the splitting of fees as proper under
certain circumstances. Rule
1.5(e) of the American Bar Association's Model Rules
of Professional Conduct, for
example, provides:
(e) A division of a fee between lawyers
who are not in the same firm may be made only if:
(1) the division is in proportion to
the services performed by each lawyer or each lawyer
assumes joint responsibility for the representation;
(2) the client agrees to the
arrangement, including the share each lawyer will
receive, and the agreement is confirmed in writing;
and
(3) the total fee is
reasonable.
Similar rules exist in Texas, California, New York, Washington, and other states.
Please comment. |
|

A Texan's
favorite winter scene -- in New England.
Greetings of the Season
As the saying goes, the world has three
kinds of people -- those who can count, and those who
can't.
We at Susman Godfrey generally do better at verbal tasks than at mathematical
ones, but we do know how much we count on our friends
for the successes we've enjoyed.
We would of course have nothing without
our peerless clients -- the smartest, most likable, and,
yes, handsomest group ever to go to court,
willingly or not. Thanks to them, 2006 ranks as
the best year ever for our growing Dallas office.
Since January, for example, the firm's
Metroplex branch has:
Please accept our warmest thanks for
your help this year and our best wishes for an even
happier 2007.
Comment here. |
|

Hot Lunch
Call me Bouré.
That nickname came to
me in high school.
Buddies who played a Cajun kind of poker bestowed
it on me despite – or maybe because of – my distaste for
gambling.
But let’s get to that earlier time later. Right now we
should talk about the present, when almost nobody calls
me that.
I practice
law. Trial
law.
Commercial trial law. That means my
cases usually don’t involve death, dismemberment, rape,
or other human tragedies except of the figurative
kind.
Company A kills Company B. Company C steals
stuff from Company D. Company E breaks
its promise to Company F. That sort of
thing.
You might think
that these kinds of lawsuits don’t arouse much
passion.
Duh.
But they do produce serious fights, brutal
fights, long and expensive
fights. In
a typical case, each side spends millions of dollars
trying to whip the other. Sometimes they
shell out ten, twenty, or thirty million.
My job gives me a
bird’s-eye view of how big cases develop and move
through the court system. The experience
doesn’t always make a pretty picture. High-stakes
civil litigation involves fierce combat. It generates
winners and losers. It may even
wound participants and by-standers. And, at bottom,
the tilting and jousting proceed on a hope – a bet –
that the effort will generate
victory.
But I don’t want to
talk about that.
I prefer the sunny, funny side of my work. Let me tell you
some of what I’ve learned in two decades. Bouré won’t
steer you wrong.
*
* * *
Comment
here.
|
|
|
I Like Big Words, and I
Can Not Lie!

The rapper Sir Mix-A-Lot. He won a Grammy in 1993 for his magnum opus, Baby
Got Back, which established him as an
admirer of things callipygian. A Futurama episode describes Baby
Got Back as "classical music" in the year
3000.
Pedants like Your Editor adore displaying
simulacra of
erudition via sesquipedalianizations. We
love to use big words.
We also adore defining them for lesser
mortals. Like now: Sesquipedalian =
one and a half (sesqui) feet (ped). This
long word describes, well, a long
word.
Let's have a little fun with sesquipedalia, shall
we?
Autocthonous thespians defenestrate bacciferous
biblioklepts. [Native actors throw
berry-eating book thieves out a window.]
Dendrophilous eleemosynarians deipnosophize
anthropophagy. [Tree-loving charity supporters
talk smartly at the dinner table about human
cannibalism.] Mesopotamians cachinnate at
meretricious castrametation. [Iraqis laugh loudly
about falsely alluring plans for military
camps.] Circumlocutionization disembogues
cathchresis. [Talking around a subject flows
into word misuse.] And so on.
These examples may lead many to conclude that a big
vocabulary simply makes you obnoxious. It can, of
course, do that. But it also
may increase your effectiveness as a trial lawyer
-- if you follow these rules:
First, do no harm. We
all remember that smart-arse guy who used words that
nobody knew. Now we realize that he made them
up. "Invenereal" doesn't mean "immaterial", and
"indubiably" and "irregardless" don't even exist.
Smile when you say it.
Big words lose impact when they betray a
superior tone. If you want to conjure the
clamor of a shareholder meeting by calling it
"callithumpian", flash a grin. It says "I'm not a
jerk".
A little goes a long
way. Sesquipedalia can
quickly grow tiresome. (As it just
did.) Don't detract from your wallop-packing
"antepenultimate" or "dipsomania" by using too many big
words.
Beware the Jabberwock, my
son. Remember Mary
Poppins (1964)? We learned at Raguet
Elementary a song about a very long word --
supercalifragalisticexpealidocious. Like Seinfeld
and Jabberwocky,
it means nothing. But I still smile when I
hear it. Aim for that; make your audience
beam.
Yes, sesquipedalia can give trial lawyers another
arrow in their quiver. Just don't overdo it.
Word
up!

Barry
Barnett, Editor
Post a comment
-- if you dare. |
|
Back to
top |
|
Time to Split

A banana split. Tra
la la, la la la la. Tra la la, la la la la.
Lawyers like you, Gentle Reader, send us a great
many of our contingent fee cases. I have
three words for y'all -- we love you.
The circumstances in which you do this necessary and
noble work vary. Perhaps you practice in a
specialty other than trying commercial lawsuits.
Possibly you prefer not to expend -- or don't
exactly have -- the financial resources for a
big matter. Or you belong to a firm
that hasn't taken contingent fee cases before
or just want to spread the risk. Most likely, you
enjoy reading Barnett's Notes more than life
itself and fear losing your subscription if you, uh,
call somebody else.
Seriously though. We show the love by agreeing,
in writing, to split the contingent fee that
we will earn together. Typically,
you will receive a percentage of the fee.
Your percentage will depend on the particular
case. Generally:
Visit our website for more
information about our
lawyers and our practice
areas.
Did I mention that we love you?
Comment? Do it here.
|
|
Back to
top |
|
Conditional War

Lyndon B. Johnson shakes hands with
American soldiers in 1966 during a surprise visit to
South Vietnam. He tried to do too much.
This
administration today, here and now, declares
unconditional war on poverty in
America
.
--
Lyndon B. Johnson, Jan. 8, 1964
Our war on terror begins with
al Qaeda, but it does not end there. It will
not end until every terrorist group of global reach has
been found, stopped and defeated.
--
George W. Bush, Sept. 20, 2001
The difference between the
almost right word and the right word is really a large
matter -- 'tis the difference between the lightning-bug
and the lightning.
--
Mark Twain, 1890
Two score years and three
after President Johnson declared unconditional war on
poverty, his ambition seems quaint. The New Testament
of the Bible says that “the poor always ye
have with you”. Did Bible-belt politician Johnson
forget?
You have to wonder. The Oxford English
Dictionary defines poverty as a condition – “[t]he
condition of having little or no wealth or material
possessions; indigence, destitution, want”. Who declares war
on a condition?
The idea of fighting a
condition strikes Your Editor as similar to
nailing Jell-O to a
wall. The
nail goes through sure enough, but the Jell-O can’t hold
onto it. The goop splats on the floor, and now you
have a mess to clean up.
But at least poverty
describes a condition that involves material
circumstances.
Having enough money solves the problem. A money-haver
can use it to furnish a roof over his family’s head,
fund education and training, buy food and clothing. Money changes
everything.
Cash doesn’t address the root
causes of poverty, of course. As the saying
goes, if you give a starving man a fish, he’ll live
another day; but, if you teach him to fish, he’ll spend
his weekends in a boat drinking beer.
No, giving a poor person
money helps only temporarily. The same goes
for government benefits. Indeed, many of
Johnson’s War on Poverty programs – Head Start, Job
Corps, VISTA, and food stamps, to name a few – aimed at
providing short-term assistance that would allow people
to lift themselves out of poverty.
Okay, Your
Editor gets that. If someone
doesn’t have the resources to live a decent life, those
who have more than enough ought to help him -- but he should
help himself at least as much as we do. Whether you
agree with the concept or not, at least it makes a kind
of moral sense.
But how do we fight a war on
terror – the condition of feeling anxious about
terrorism?
Do we give money to the worst sufferers? Enroll them in
programs that teach them how to manage their fears? Or do we strike
at the terrorists themselves?
Call me crazy, but I think a
War on Terrorists stands a far better chance of success
than a war on the emotion that their cowardly,
despicable, and heinous acts beget.
Do you consider me a
hair-splitter?
My Lord, many of you will, yes. Does calling the
task before us a War on Terrorists rather than a War on
Terror make a bit of difference?
Absolutely.
Johnson's War on Poverty
failed because it targeted a condition. A War on
Terror tempts the same fate. Terrorists we have
always had and always will have among us. Let's
please focus on reducing their numbers with the
short-term help they need – into
oblivion.
Please
don't leave a comment.
|
|
Back to
top |
Barnett's
Notes on Commercial Litigation
Winner of Grand Prize Award
Advocatus Diaboli
Competition

Coming January 1,
2007:
Barnett's
Blawgletter
Business. Trial.
Law.
|