Paul Hastings is learning this lesson the hard way. A few words to the semi-wise^*, so hopefully your company won’t have to:

1. If you need to lay people off, lay people off, but admit that you’re doing it to cut costs. Unless something drastic has happened in the last three months, don’t simultaneously insult both the outgoing employee’s work product and his/her intelligence by throwing together a few obviously pretextual, eleventh-hour performance reviews that fly in the face of every regularly scheduled performance review you provided before.
2. Hell, even if you did can the employee because you weren’t happy with his/her work, ask yourself if you have a credible, face-saving way to spin this as a non-performance based, “sorry, your position was eliminated” downsizing. If such an opportunity exists, take it.
3. If the person you’re thinking of laying off / shitcanning / etc. is pregnant, and hasn’t anything just about anyone would consider a hanging offense, think twice and then a third time before doing anything that will make you look like a total shithead.
4. If that same person just miscarried, don’t even THINK about it.
5. If, after reviewing rules 1 through 4, you are still convinced that simultaneously terminating and insulting the employee is a smart thing to do, don’t try to bribe that employee into not talking smack about you.
6. Last and least, if you are a famous national employment law firm, and your particular branch is located in a state that prohibits noncompete and non-solicitation agreements, don’t try to bribe that same employee into signing an agreement that violates that law, as well.[See update.]

^*I’ve never really been comfortable with the phrase “a word to the wise.” After all, if the guy you’re talking to is so damned wise, why did you need to tell him this stuff? Then again, I’ll grant that any potentially good advice assumes some wisdom on the part of the hearer; if you thought he was too foolish to listen, you’d probably save your breath.

More here, here, here, here and here.

UPDATE: After re-reading the “non-compete” provision, I think it’s not a non-compete after all, but a promise not to re-apply for work there. Not a likely violation of B&P Code 16600, but a violation of common sense if nothing else. If they don’t want to re-hire her a year from now, two years from now, or whenever, that’s their prerogative, but what’s the point in contractually barring someone from even applying for a job?

XRLQ Exclusive
Must credit, or I’ll really not like you.

Eliot Spitzer stunned reporters today by holding a news conference in which he was originally expected to announce his resignation, but did not. I’ve obtained a transcript of the speech he originally planned to deliver.

Throughout my life, I have grappled with my own identity, who I am. As a young child, I often felt ambivalent about myself, in fact, confused. By virtue of my traditions, and my community, I worked hard to ensure that I was accepted as part of the traditional family of America. I married my first wife, Silda, out of respect and love. And together, we have three wonderful, extraordinary daughters. If she has any pride whatsoever, Silda will soon choose to return to East Carolina, or whatever the hell they call that backwater state she comes from.

Yet, from my early days in school, until the present day, I acknowledged some feelings, a certain sense that separated me from others. But because of my resolve, and also thinking that I was doing the right thing, I forced what I thought was an acceptable reality onto myself, a reality which is layered and layered with all the, quote, “good things,” and all the, quote, “right things” of typical adolescent and adult behavior.

Yet, at my most reflective, maybe even spiritual level, there were points in my life when I began to question what an acceptable reality really meant for me. Were there realities from which I was running? Which master was I trying to serve?

I do not believe that God tortures any person simply for its own sake. I believe that God enables all things to work for the greater good. And this, the 49th year of my life, is arguably too late to have this discussion. But it is here, and it is now.

At a point in every person’s life, one has to look deeply into the mirror of one’s soul and decide one’s unique truth in the world, not as we may want to see it or hope to see it, but as it is. And so my truth is that I am a horny American. And I am blessed to live in the greatest nation with the tradition of civil liberties, the greatest tradition of civil liberties in the world, in a country which provides so much to its people, and one which has at least one state where I can legally get my rocks off to my heart’s . . . err, make that Silda’s wallet’s …. content.

Yet because of the pain and suffering and anguish that I have caused to my beloved family, my parents, my wife, my friends, I would almost rather have this moment pass. For this is an intensely personal decision, and not one typically for the public domain. Yet, it cannot and should not pass. I am also here today because, shamefully, I engaged in adult consensual affair with a totally hot chick who charges up the wazoo. This violates my bonds of matrimony. It was wrong. It was foolish. It was inexcusable. But damn, it was worth every penny I paid for it.

And for this, I ask the forgiveness and the grace of my wife. She has been extraordinary throughout this ordeal, and I am blessed by virtue of her love and strength. I realize the fact of this affair and my own sexuality if kept secret leaves me, and most importantly the governor’s office, vulnerable to rumors, false allegations and threats of disclosure. So I am removing these threats by telling you directly about my sexuality.

Let me be clear, I accept total and full responsibility for my actions. However, I’m required to do now, to do what is right to correct the consequences of my actions and to be truthful to my loved ones, to my friends and my family and also to myself. It makes little difference that as governor I am a horndog with money to burn. In fact, having the ability to truthfully set forth my identity might have enabled me to be more forthright in fulfilling and discharging my constitutional obligations.

Given the circumstances surrounding the affair and its likely impact upon my family and my ability to govern, I have decided the right course of action is to resign. To facilitate a responsible transition, my resignation will be effective on April 1 of this year. I’m very proud of the things we have accomplished during my administration. And I want to thank humbly the citizens of the state of New York for the privilege to govern.

Puppy, Say Allah and the Uncleblender have more.

UPDATE: Another resignation.

UPDATE x2: Somehow, Google this speech ended up ranking this speech #1 for the search terms “spitzer resignation speech.” Those looking for the real thing can go here, instead.

I never thought I’d say this, but Glenn Greenwald is now the second biggest douche in the blogosphere, and a distant second at that.

Memo to Former Artist Formerly Known as Artist Formerly Known As Prince: not all publicity is good publicity.

If this guy doesn’t even get to sue for his jackpot, while Sandia Resort and Casino happily keeps its money because they were too lazy or too stupid to maintain their own slot machines, no one in his right mind should ever gamble on an Indian reservation again. Their idiot attorney, Paul Bardacke, basically admits as much:

The slot machine has a disclaimer that says it pays a maximum of $2,500 and warns that malfunctions void all winnings, said Paul Bardacke, Sandia’s lawyer.

Neato. So if [no, make that since] Sandia’s staff is too stupid or too lazy to maintain its own machines, any innocent party’s winnings don’t count. But if that same lack of maintenance results in anyone losing a game they should have won, well hey, that’s just the way the cookie crumbles. Heads they win, tails you lose. Christ on a crutch, don’t these guys make enough money even when their machines work properly?

As for the disclaimer, give me a friggin’ break. If I’m ever dumb enough to gamble there, remind me to wear a pin on my shirt that no one will read, saying “Maximum Loss: $500.”

Not content to come off as a garden-variety moron, Bardacke goes on to liken casinos to banks:

Bardacke said Sandia offered Hoffman the maximum payout of $2,500. “If he had gone into a bank and deposited $1,000 and got back a deposit slip that said a million dollars, he doesn’t get to keep the balance,” said Bardacke. “It doesn’t work that way.”

No shit, Sherlock. That’s because banks are … oh, I dunno, what’s the word for it … banks???!!! No one deposits money in a bank expecting to “win” anything except the interest. If a bank employee screws up and gives you a higher interest rate than the bank intended, guess what? You get to keep the interest.

On the flip side, if any of Sandia’s customers had gone into a bank and deposited $1,000, they’d be entitled to withdraw $1,000 (more or less, once you add any interest and subtract any banking fees) anytime they like. So by their idiot attorney’s logic, I guess anyone who lost money gambling at Sandia should be entitled to “withdraw” it back, less a $12.00/month banking fee.

Just when you think that this moron of an attorney can’t possibly say anything stupider, he once again fails to disappoint. Bardacke continues:

“He knew it was wrong; he knew it was incorrect,” Bardacke said of the “jackpot.” “That’s why he took a picture of it immediately.”

Right, ‘cuz no one ever tries to document anything that’s right, only stuff they know is bogus. Just to prove it’s bogus, of course. Why would anyone take a picture of anything that legitimately proved they were entitled to money, when it’s so much easier just to trust a shady casino and its retarded lawyer?

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
What’s the lamest of them all?

1. Comparing the king to a stream of bat’s piss, only to explain later that you really meant he was like a shaft of gold while all around is dark.
2. Emailing someone that the Conference Edition of the Journal of Law and Economics “was not a peer refereed edition of the Journal,” only to explain later that you really meant that the articles were peer reviewed after all, and you yourself were among the referees?
3. Emailing the same person that “For $15,000 he was able to buy an issue and put in only work that supported him,” only to explain later that you really meant that “scholars with varying opinions,” again including you, “had been informed that their papers would be considered for publication.”
4. Finishing that email by stating that “[m]y best friend was the editor and was outraged the press let [whoever] do this,” only to explain later that you really meant that “I did not mean to suggest that [the same whoever] did anything unlawful or improper.”

Allah catches Jerry Rivers in a whopper, in which Jerry falsely promised that Zina Linnik’s family would speak out on why Terapon Adhahn’s “immigrant” label should be replaced by “monster,” followed by a segment with her uncle in which Adhahn’s immigrant status didn’t come up at all (and in which the uncle would have taken the opposite view if it had). At the end of the segment, Rivers doubles down, demanding that Michelle Maglalang apologize for being an anti-immigrant (not anti-illegal immigrant, just plain anti-immigrant) extremist who thinks Adhahn’s detention by ICE has anything to do with whether he is in the country legally or should have been deported after his earlier crimes. It’s way past time for FoxNews to give Jerry the boot.

As an aside, I’m sure some will object to my use of the name “Jerry Rivers” to describe the guy who calls himself Geraldo Rivera, noting that “Jerry Rivers” never really was his real name. On the one hand, it might be worthwhile to point out that Bill Clinton’s legal name also was never really “Bubba” or “Slick,” Hillary’s was never really “Hildebeest,” John Edwards’s was never really “The Breck Girl”, and Vladimir Putin’s was certainly never “Pooty-Poot.” On the other, a careful, thorough and appropriately defensive reading of Snopes’s purported debunking shows that the Jerry Rivers story, much like Al Gore’s Internet, is mostly correct, and wrong only on a relatively minor detail. In the case of Al Gore, that minor detail is the fact that he technically didn’t claim to have “invented” the Internet, but did make an equally preposterous claim to have “created” it. In the case of Jerry Rivers, it is true that his last name was never “Rivers,” but it is also true that it wasn’t Rivera, either, and that he did indeed change both it and his first name to play up his Puerto Rican heritage when it suited him. It’s also worth noting, however, that Jerry Riviera’s father really did have the surname “Rivera,” which would have become Jerry’s original surname if not for his mother’s equally lame effort to downplay his Puerto Rican heritage earlier in his life. So when it comes to playing cheap identity politics, I guess you can see this particular apple didn’t fall too far from the tree.

Others will object to the fact that I referred to Michelle Malkin as Michelle Maglalang, on the grounds that Maglalang really was once her last name, and arguably still is (see, e.g., the copyright notice in In Defense of Internment). I guess there’s just no pleasing some people.

Last and least, it’s worth noting that unlike both the perp and the victim in this horrible case, neither Jerry Riviera/Rivera nor Michelle Maglalang/Malkin technically qualifies as an immigrant. Based on their original surnames, however, I’ll give you three guesses as to which of them is closer to being an immigrant, and the first two guesses don’t count.

UPDATE: Michelle responds.

UPDATE x2: Apparently, Jerry Riviera has minions in the blogosphere. This one, who cares so much about poor Zina that he can’t even spell her last name, finds it “darned inconvenient” for some straw version of Malkin that Adhahn “is NOT an illegal Mexican, but rather a legal resident from Thailand, and 8-year member of the elite Army Rangers.” These factoids should come in really handy if the guy ever encounters anyone who seriously believes that (1) only Mexican immigrants should be deported, (2) no legal immigrants should ever be deported, even upon conviction of serious crimes, and (3) none of these rules apply to Army Rangers anyway.

I’ve had to to there with “sunshine” laws in general, and their pollyannish names in particular. Society has long outgrown its fetish with real sunshine, too little of which can be problematic but too much of which causes everything from sunburn to melanoma. We (meaning all rational individuals, myself included) know damned well what too much literal sunshine can do; it’s part of the reason our homes and offices have roofs over them, for chrissake. Yet somehow we (and by that I mean the smarmy, non-royal “we,” which means either “you idiots” or “those idiots,” not any group of individuals that includes myself) seem to forget that the same problems exist with the figurative version of sunshine, i.e., the naive notion that disclosing stuff is always good.

News media are, unsurprisingly, among the worst offenders. In the big leagues, papers like the New York Times (and, to a lesser degree, the Washington Post and the Los Angeles Times) got the brilliant idea to publish every detail they could about the NSA wiretaps and the SWIFT program, both of which had until then been effective tools in the global war on something even more dangerous than Lite-Brites. Here in bush league territory, Christian Tejbal of the Roanoke Times thinks small and goes after ordinary citizens instead. Specifically, his idea of how to celebrate “Sunshine Week” was to liken Virginians with concealed handgun permits to registered sex offenders and publish their names and home addresses as punishment for exercising their Second Amendment rights.

The list stayed up for about a day, inviting comments. Here’s mine (the one they published):

Christian, your snotty article and your gross invasion of law abiding citizens’ privacy requires one of two actions:

1. Explain what the hell kind of good it was supposed to do for anyone other than the violent ex-lovers some CHP holders were trying to get away from (and whose violent exes now know where they live) or
2. Admit that you are an irresponsible jerk who has no business being a journalist.

Here’s the unpublished one that followed:

Christian Tejbal should be fired, as should anyone else who approved his boneheaded decision to invade the privacy of 135,000 law abiding Virginians. Now. That idiot’s idea of “sunshine” is precisely what got actress Rebecca Schaeffer (and Lord only knows how many others) killed. At Schaeffer’s killer had to pay a sleazy detective agency $250 to obtain the information your pathetic excuse for a newspaper provides for free.

Lastly, here’s a little “sunshine” on the creep who started it all. I’m sure he won’t mind, as Sunshine Week isn’t over yet.

Christian Trejbal
675 School Lane
Christiansburg, VA 24073

Punk probably thinks “Christiansburg” is named after him.

UPDATE: The database was removed and replaced with a they-a culpa. My favorite part:

“When we posted the information, we had every reason to believe that the data the State Police had supplied would comply with the statutes. But people have notified us that the list includes names that should not have been released,” said Debbie Meade, president and publisher of The Roanoke Times.

No kidding.

UPDATE x2: Michelle Malkin has more. Don’t know how I missed this at the time.

If you live in Los Angeles County and are as disgusted as I am by Judge Gibson Lee’s non-sentencing of nine racist gangbangers who beat three innocent white women senseless - and damn near killed two of them - simply for being white, there isn’t a damned thing you can do about the sentence itself, but there is something you can do about the idiot judge who rendered him. Recall the bastard now, before he turns even more vicious criminals free like he’s been doing for decades.