Mike's Grade: 96-A

Class Notes

 

Casebook Notes

 

Notes on Selected Source Materials

 

Practice Exam Question, 8/27/03

 

Practice Exam Question, 9/24/03

 

Practice Exam Question, 11/12/03

 

Contracts Outline Mk. II (more work, less progress)

 

Practice Exam Review, 10/29/03

 

Handout Problem, 1/28/04

 

Back to the Extravaganza!

 

 

Lovejoy: [holding cleaning brushes] I want you to clean every one of
          these organ pipes that you have befouled with your popular
          music.
           [hands the brushes out, walks off] 
           [Bart and Milhouse start cleaning; a door slams]
    Bart: You shank!  How could you tell on me?
Milhouse: Well I don't want hungry birds pecking my soul forever.
    Bart: Soul?  Come on, Milhouse, there is no such thing as a soul.
          It's just something they made up to scare kids, like the
          bogeyman, or Michael Jackson.
Milhouse: But every religion says there's a soul, Bart.  Why would they
          lie?  What would they have to gain?
           [Lovejoy, in his office, works a change sorting machine]
 Lovejoy: I don't hear scrubbing!
    Bart: Well, if your soul is real, where is it?
Milhouse: [motions to his chest] It's kind of in here.  And when you
          sneeze, that's your soul trying to escape.  Saying "God bless
          you" crams it back in!  [gestures up his nose] And when you
          die, it squirms out and flies away.
    Bart: Uh huh.  What if you die in a submarine at the bottom of the
          ocean?
Milhouse: Oh, it can swim.  It's even got wheels in case you die in the
          desert and it has to drive to the cemetery.
    Bart: [sighs] Oh, how can someone with glasses that thick be so
          stupid?  Listen: you don't have a soul, I don't have a soul,
          there's no such thing as a soul!
Milhouse: [smug] Fine.  If you're so sure about that, why don't you sell
          your soul to me?
    Bart: [pause] How much you got?
Milhouse: Five bucks.
    Bart: Deal.
           [writes "Bart Simpson's Soul" on a piece of paper]
          There you go: one soul.
Milhouse: [sly] Pleasure doing business with you.
    Bart: Any time, chum...p.

 

Bart Sells His Soul? 3 Simp.F. 02 (1995).