Like Matthew Yglesias, Dylan, and others, I eagerly anticipate the season-premiere of Veronica Mars this evening at 9 p.m. EDT.

Matt is wrong, incidentally, that Veronica Mars is "not the best show on television," but he does at least acknowledge that it is "pretty darn close." It is also, apparently, on the verge of cancellation, possibly halfway through this season, which will add a second layer of suspense to the show.

My previous ramble on the themes of the show (with many spoilers) is here, which seems to have come to the attention of the VM-livejournalers. Incidentally, the show now has a new opening sequence and theme song-- I approve the former, which is noirier and fits what I hope to be the new flavor of the third season. The song, however, has been basically neutered.

The procedural requirements of the Due Process Clause baffle and intrigue me.

Compare James Bagg's Case, (1616) 77 Eng. Rep. 1271 (K.B.).:

[I]t was resolved, that no freeman of any corporation can be disfranchised by the corporation, unless they have authority to do it either by the express words of the charter, or by prescription: but if they have not authority neither by charter or by prescription, then he ought to be convicted by course of law before he can be removed; and it appears by Magna Charta, cap. 29. Nullus liber homo capiatur, vel imprisonetur, aut disseisitur de libero tenemento suo, vel libertatitus, vel liberis consuetudinibus, suis, &c. nisi per legale judicium parium suorum, vel per legem terrae, and if the corporation have power by charter or prescription to remove him for a reasonable cause, that will be per legem terrae; but if they have no such power, he ought to be convicted per judicium parium suorum, &c. ...

We had in a former debate, travelled largely over the ground of the constitution, as applied to legislative disqualifications; He would not repeat what he had said, but he hoped to be indulged by the house in explaining a sentence in the constitution, which seems not well understood by some gentlemen. In one article of it, it is said no man shall be disfranchised or deprived of any right he enjoys under the constitution, but by the law of the land, or the judgment of his peers. Some gentlemen hold that the law of the land will include an act of the legislature. But Lord Coke, that great luminary of the law, in his comment upon a similar clause, in Magna Charta, interprets the law of the land to mean presentment and indictment, and process of outlawry, as contradistinguished from trial by jury. But if there were any doubt upon the constitution, the bill of rights enacted in this very session removes it. It is there declared that, no man shall be disfranchised or deprived of any right, but by due process of law, or the judgment of his peers. The words "due process" have a precise technical import, and are only applicable to the process and proceedings of the courts of justice; they can never be referred to an act of legislature.

Amid all this concern about whether the blog's going to die when Will starts his clerkship, I should say that there's a suit lying on my bed this morning. That is, my law firm job started yesterday. I'm not forbidden from blogging, and other people have blogged while working at my firm, although obviously with extreme care as to confidentiality.

But on Wednesday, when substantive work starts, you can bet equally that my free time will drop very significantly, and I may choose to spend it the gym or in the kitchen rather than writing. Having said that, I'm going to keep blogging when I get a chance, until Will decides to do whatever he's going to do with this site. In case whatever emerges from the coliseum gates on Wednesday is worse than I thought, though, I just wanted to officially say that I appreciated any readers I had over the last month. I missed blogging over my clerkship year, and getting back to it was great.

(Pictures below the fold)

On my last full day in Iceland, a few weeks ago now, my host and old college friend said that we ought to go visit his favorite hot pot, a natural hot pool in which Icelanders soak away the day's stress. We drove from his town of Holar (that's six hours north of Reykjavik, and, um, population 91), to a slightly bigger town named Saudarkrokur. Twenty minutes beyond Saudarkrokur still, (and a good ten minutes beyond the last person in the vicinity) we reached a farm right on the sea. There, beyond two gates, was this small, completely deserted hot pot. A box was nearby in which to deposit 50 kronur (less than a dollar), and we changed in this funny little shed, constructed in the traditional Icelandic style. And then, for the next hour or so, we sat there, in the hot, almost steaming water, in air temperature that was, even in early september, already about 40 degrees, and looked out over the Arctic ocean, contemplating the saga hero who is said to have fought a monster on that rock in the ocean, and who salved his wounds later in the very hot pot in which we were sitting.

I wish we had hot pots like this here at home. Or at least sagas.