On July 20, 2005, Canada became the fourth country in the world to legalize same-sex marriage. This was, of course, seen as a great success for the many people who felt that in a free and secular society all adults should be able to decide who they want to marry. Even for the religious groups which disagreed with same-sex marriage this was not terribly controversial; individual churches and clergy would still be able to decide who was eligible for a marriage ceremony. This is not to say that everyone agreed to promote same-sex marriage, but compared to the constant battle in the US over the issue all seemed well in the world…Until someone remembered that the State performs marriages and that not everyone performing them prior to the change agreed with same-sex marriage.

This problem recently became the subject of renewed controversy in Saskatchewan. At question for some time was whether marriage commissioners must marry same sex couples if it is against their conscience. This appears to have ended with the recent decision of the Saskatchewan Court of Appeal banning individual marriage commissioners from not marrying homosexual couples. It was held that any clause the provincial legislature placed within legislation exempting individuals from performing same-sex marriages on religious grounds would violate the Charter, and lead to potential discrimination against inter-race or inter-faith marriages.

This issue is not a simple one. Regardless of their correct (or not) decision, I think one has to feel sympathy for those individuals who are devoutly religious and feel there is a real tension between their obligation to marry same-sex couples and their religious duties. Personally, I see this problem (amongst many similar situations) as being a reason for government to get out of the marriage problem entirely and have universal civil unions for everyone – a view advocated by legal scholars like Cass Sunstein.

Let’s assume though, as is reasonable, that this approach will not be taken. It seems to me that religious differentiation need not rear its head on these facts. On the theory that government sanctioned marriages are considered purely secular, those performing the ceremony are not engaging in a religious act at all; if taken seriously, the conflict between religious duty and non-discrimination, in this context, may be one not of substance but perception. This is not to say that tensions will not exist in other situations, but certainly such an approach may minimize the tensions involved in this narrow case.

Ever since the end of last year’s Pith & Substance, I’ve been wondering how the event would survive without Li Dong. He has been so fundamental in the past for not only filming and editing, but for writing and directing the society videos. For the four years that he was a part of Weldon, Pith & Substance went from bush league to pure gold. Looking back on the videos of the past on YouTube, it was very obvious which videos were Li Dong productions.

Approaching Pith & Substance this year, the big question was who the new Li Dong was going to be. To my surprise, enormous amounts of talent came out of the woodwork this year, and resulted in the best Pith & Substance ever.

When I heard that Li Dong was filming the exchange video, I figured it was over. Might as well handthem the plaque now. But while the exchange video was an amazing piece of work, I was surprised how much competition it had. The societies stepped up to the challenge despite many difficulties. The first hurdle being no Li Dong, the second being that Pith & Substance was the earliest it has been in years. Brainstorming, writing, filming, and editing takes time. Hence why a February date has always been chosen in the past. But amazingly, the first years organized themselves before Christmas, and many of the societies worked day and night during the first few weeks of school. Imagine how amazing the skits and videos would have been if Pith & Substance was later in the year. YouTube would ban anything coming from us if we had had even more time to film.

For myself and many others, the first few weeks back at school involved no readings, little sleep, lots of pizza and barley sandwiches, but lots of filming, directing and editing. So good to see that many of us have our priorities in order.

And amazed I was at all the contributors. The first years showed that they do have the humour and the skill — they must have done their homework on YouTube beforehand. But it was the society videos that made it for me. The Domus video in particular has finally set a high standard for future years. While Domus videos of the past have been funny, this year’s video was over the top, thanks in no small part to the incredible acting abilities of our Domus President, who can apparently pull hard at those heart strings.

So with Pith & Substance behind us once again, I will miss it. Maybe I can pull a Li Dong and help film a video next year. If any society is going to be in Newfoundland next year, look me up.

I would say it’s back to reality now, but thankfully WACS and Domus are on top of things, and have plenty of events to distract us this semester. Hang in there, second years; third year is amazing in comparison.

While the legend that is Li Dong will never be forgotten, the impact he has made on this school is enormous. I can now say with confidence that partial replacements for him are out there, and while many will be graduating this year, there are evidently some geniuses still left in first and second year. Good luck to next year’s first year class. They have no idea what precedent has been set for them. I guess the Dong has been filled. Filled, but never forgotten.

Special thanks to everyone who participated in the Weldon Times video. I guess we should have fudged the votes again this year.

For as long as I can remember I have been a contrarian. I find too much agreement on important issues unsettling. I have a perverse psychological need to break it. I also have a bit of a conservative streak. I tend to view established institutions and practices with (sometimes excessive) deference and I resist radical changes to the status quo. Don’t call me political. I’m more of an antiquarian.

I suspect that these two unfortunate character traits are what attracted me to Against Reform, a short, clever little book by John Pepall recently published by the University of Toronto Press. In it, Pepall confronts several leading contemporary proposals to fix Canada’s political system. Among these are Senate reform, proportional representation, slackening up party discipline, and ballot initiatives. His aim is not to defend a flawless system. His view is more akin to how most proposed reforms misinterpret what ails Canadian politics, and that if realized they would do more harm than good.

Take, for example, Pepall’s critique of fixed election dates, which have been introduced federally and in seven provinces. His foremost concern is that they are foreign to and inconsistent with our system of government. Unlike the American system, Pepall argues, our elected representatives are not supposed to enjoy “fixed terms.” Their tenure extends as long as their respective legislative bodies, until the dissolution of government (within the five-year perimeter laid out in the Constitution Acts, 1867 and 1982, of course).

Fixed election dates are not only inconsistent with our Constitution. According to Pepall, they don’t accomplish their principal goal of taking power away from prime ministers and premiers, because the ability to call elections according to political convenience is already severely circumscribed. History shows that whether an incumbent government has strong or weak popular support, strategic election timing is unlikely to alter its fortunes at the polls. For example, Jean Chrétien was derided in 2000 for calling an election just three years after the previous one, supposedly to exploit the weakness of then-opposition leader Stockwell Day. What Chrétien’s critics miss, argues Pepall, is that he would have won a third majority government even if he had waited. “The disarray in the opposition in those years was such that there was never a time when such an allegation could not have been made.”

The worldview that animates and inspires Against Reform is decidedly conservative. Pepall’s conservatism is that of Edmund Burke. His arguments are premised on a sincere faith in Canada’s constitution as the evolved product of centuries of political experimentation in Canada and Britain. In Pepall’s view, this prolonged development created institutions “that provided effective government answerable to the people.” For that reason, we should resist the urge to tinker with them.

Though Pepall’s worldview is conservative, Against Reform is not a partisan screed. Pepall works across party lines, criticizing ideas that have been advanced by the right and left alike. In fact, his book is probably least favourable to our current government, taking issue with such flagship Conservative initiatives such as Senate reform and fixed election dates. Though the idea seems to have lost its political currency, Pepall also criticizes regular referenda — an old staple of the Reform and Canadian Alliance parties. Pepall’s main gripe with the left is voting reform, which he confronts over several chapters with the relentless obsession of a political Captain Ahab.

Against Reform is far from perfect; this short book has many flaws. For example, too often Pepall trades reasoned critique for soapbox rant, using up white space to rail against various things that piss him off. When discussing the parliamentary confirmation of judges he notes that the people best qualified to discuss judicial philosophy “are a small set of law professors quite unfit by their conceit, irresponsibility, and casuistry for any bench.” (It’s not clear if this group includes Weldon’s own Mr. Justice Thomas Cromwell, who Pepall praises on the following page.) In addition, Pepall’s arguments are often less than rigorous. In some chapters I would have preferred more extensive lines of reasoning. Pepall’s style sometimes involves a series of rapid-fire, generally unconvincing points that ultimately don’t add up to much.

These concerns undermine — but they do not ruin — what is otherwise a fine, lively book. Pepall’s greatest virtue isn’t just that he writes with conviction, but that his conviction is supported by a firm belief in the functionality and reasonableness of Canada’s constitutional system. His position is unenviable. In many ways, he stands against the proverbial tides of history. Fixed election dates are law in most jurisdictions. Senate reform seems to be coming eventually. Voting reform enjoys broad (though not yet majority) support. In the end, Pepall’s most enduring role might be to remind us of what we’ll leave behind.

After spending more than three millennia on the docket, it seems as though Eupeithes’ wrongful death claim under Nova Scotia’s Fatal Injuries Act against Odysseus will finally be heard.

Eupeithes brings the action on behalf of his slain son, Antinoos, one of the suitors Odysseus allegedly killed in a murderous, black-browed rage more than three thousand years ago. “You think this day will come,” said the still heartbroken father, just moments after hearing the news. “You dream about it. Retribution. Revenge. Damages. The interest payments will be astronomical!”

Odysseus himself refused to give a lengthy statement, saying only from behind the screen door of his rented trailer, “I’m done runnin’.” He then took a swig of something from his lambskin flask, and told us to get off his property before he organized a shooting contest.

Both parties have acceded to Nova Scotia law in order to finally have the matter settled between them. Under its inherent jurisdiction over all matters literary, the Schulich Literary Moot Court will hear the issue on February 17 in Room 105 of the Weldon Law Building, Justice Bryson of the Nova Scotia Court of Appeal presiding. Eupeithes will be represented by 3rd year law student Andrew McCoomb and Laurie Jones, of McInnes Cooper. Odysseus has enlisted the support of 3rd-year law student Andrea Buncic and Tony Amoud, of Boyne Clarke.

Who do you think should win the suit? Go to the Odysseus on Trial Facebook page and get in on the action. If you’d like to witness this historic trial, you can also buy a ticket for $12 at the Rebecca Cohn box office, either in person, online, or by phone (494-3820). All proceeds go to Halifax Humanities 101.

Everything you have heard about Law Games is true. At check-in, delegates were handed a two-four of Molson Export, the Dal team dominated the nightly hotel hallway flip-cup circuit, and a copy of the Criminal Code was circulated on the Dagobert dance floor by shirtless young men in sailor hats. Yes, Law Games is a wild time.

But Law Games is about more than just intramural sports, fraternizing with members of the opposite sex, and sipping the occasional cocktail. Although the cynics are quick to write-off Law Games as trivial, juvenile, or worse, such a superficial assessment of this Canadian law school staple misses much of what makes Law Games so sumptuous.

Law Games as an institution is now in its third decade of uninterrupted existence. This speaks volumes about the genuine commitment law students from coast-to-coast have put into maintaining this tradition. If the organizers and participants were really only after a long weekend of behaving badly, it could be arranged for considerably less effort. Instead, law gamers seek out so much more. From its humble roots in 1985 at Queen’s University as a friendly hockey tournament, Law Games now commands participation from every law faculty in the country. What is perhaps most remarkable about the Law Games experience though, is that despite the size of the event (this year the Hilton Quebec City had to accommodate almost 700 students), the fraternal spirit of the Games remains.

The feeling of collegiality at Law Games is striking. In sharp contrast to the baggage laden, gossip driven, often-antagonizing existence that makes up a large part of the law school experience, Law Games offers a reprieve from it all. At Law Games everyone is on an equal social footing. No one knows if you’re an obnoxious gunner, at the bottom of the curve, or that you listen to incredibly sublime Indie bands. It is as rare as it is liberating to experience law students socializing away from the much-ingrained pecking orders left behind at their respective law schools.

The displays of athletic and artistic talent in the sports and spirit competitions are remarkable. It is astonishing to see fellow law students in a different light, and realize how talented many of our peers are in so many disciplines. The rigorous demands and confines of our legal education sometimes have the unfortunate effect of stripping us of our previous identities as athletes, dancers or competitive poutine eaters. If only briefly, Law Games allows students to experience the other sides of their colleagues before they have to turn into pumpkins and return to school.

The networking aspect of Law Games is very real. Headed to a new city to article and need some friends? Hoping to get to know some fellow summer students at your new firm? As we all know, the legal community is small, and after four nights at Law Games it becomes that much smaller. When a modest percentage of Canada’s future legal talent is being housed under one roof, it doesn’t take much leg work to get introduced to your future co-workers.

For the 1Ls considering future employment, Law Games provides unparalleled exposure to firm branding. Leading up to each year’s event, the number one question on most veteran-gamers’ minds is “who will be wearing what?” Although Dalhousie has remained with Cassels Brock as our primary sponsor for several years now, not all schools are so loyal. The jostling for sponsorship space on team uniforms is quite cutthroat. Even the most disinterested law student can’t help but notice which firms have rebranded, which firms recruited the largest stable of teams, or who has the better swag.

I was sorry that this year had to be my last Law Games, but as Thomas Wolfe once titled a novel, “You can never go home again.”  As law students we are in the twilight of our university lives, with reality stalking us at every turn. Our time for youthful exuberance is almost up – so do yourself a favour, and don’t add not going to Law Games to your growing list of law school regrets.  Ask your wife, ask your kids, ask your husband, ask your everybody — Law Games is an experience you won’t regret. Captain’s orders.