On February 1, Pfizer — the world’s largest pharmaceutical manufacturer — announced a recall involving a million packages of birth control pills. According to the company, some pills were packaged improperly in terms of the sequence they should be taken in; some pills contained excessive amounts of the active ingredients; and in some cases, some pills did not contain enough active ingredients. Statistically, few, if any, unplanned pregnancies will occur because of these circumstances.

However, we here at Abnormal Use expect that this announcement may cause some readers to experience anxiety. A lot of anxiety. Some folks may even be tempted to freak out. Well, don’t. You can spend your time and energy worrying about hypotheticals, sure; or you can refer to our handy flowchart — which we made just for you — to help you evaluate your risk and work through your anxiety. Why would we do this for you, you ask? It’s because we love you, our faithful readers. So, without further ado, let’s move to the chart:

Step 1: Determine if this is your pill. The pills in question are: (1) Lo/Orval-28 tablets; and (2) its generic equivalent, Norgestrel and Ehtinyl Estradiol tablets. The affected packages have expiration dates between July 31, 2013 and March 31, 2014.

Is this your pill?

A. If No, great. Go on about your life.

B. If Yes, proceed to Step 2.

Step 2: In the past month, have you actually relied on your pill for contraceptive purposes?

A. If No, immediately stop reading this blog. Go to www.match.com. Create a profile and shamelessly lie about yourself. Hurry now! Time’s a-wastin’.

B. If Yes, are you being honest?

1. If No, please refer back to Step 2A. And stop lying. It’s not helping your game.

2. If Yes, proceed to Step 3.

Step 3: In theory, are you at least comfortable with the thought of being pregnant?

A. If Yes, proceed to Step 5B & C.

B. If No, proceed to Step 4.

Step 4: Freak out. Seriously, freak out. I mean, you’re in no position right now to be a parent. You’ve got stuff you want to do. You’re not responsible enough for a kid. You can barely take care of yourself! How are you going to take care of a kid? Oh man, oh man, oh man. What are you going to do? Unghhh gahhh!

[Continue to work yourself up until you’re making a scene, then proceed to Step 5.]

Step 5: Alright, shut up. Shut. Up. Pull yourself together. You’re embarrassing yourself. Geez. Ok? Ok? Alright. Everything’s going to be fine. Ok? Here’s what you do:

A. Start trying to make a deal with God. It can’t hurt.

B. Go see your doctor and get an exam.

C. If you can’t get in to see your doctor, take an at-home pregnancy test.

Step 6: If you get an exam or pregnancy test, and—

A. You’re pregnant, and—

1. You’re comfortable with being pregnant, CONGRATULATIONS!!! We’re so happy for you!

[Provided you were not knowingly committing pill fraud against your significant other. That is no laughing matter. Shame on you.]

2. You’re not comfortable with being pregnant, freak out again. Seriously, it’s ok. This is a big life change. But once you’ve freaked out for a little while, collect yourself and make the best of the situation. There’s a great deal of support and assistance out there for folks just like you. You’re not alone.

B. You’re not pregnant, and—

1. You were comfortable with the idea of being pregnant, maybe it’s time to go off contraceptives . . . ?

[Provided you do not commit pill fraud against your significant other. Seriously. No laughing matter.]

2. You did not want to be pregnant, CONGRATULATIONS!!! Now, go celebrate. Responsibly. We’re going to be really disappointed if you’re back looking at this flowchart come Monday morning.

In November, we ran a post regarding Chevy Volts and their purported proclivity to catch fire after impact.  Sometimes long after impact.  Like three weeks after impact.  During the course of our discussion, we encouraged all the products hypochondriacs out there to take a deep breath and consider that maybe, just maybe, the Volts weren’t defectively designed, and therefore, were getting a bad rap.

I’m not usually a voice of moderation or restraint.  And so it was an odd thing for me to be doing, actively encouraging both moderation and restraint at the same time.  Overall, it was a very uncomfortable experience for me, and frankly, not much fun.  

However, in this case, it was absolutely the appropriate response.  On January 20, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (“NHTSA”) released a statement exonerating Chevy Volts regarding the conclusions of its investigation into the post-crash fire risk of Chevy Volts.  What was that conclusion?  Well, after a six week investigation, the Administration determined that “no discernible defect trend exists.”  In other words, Chevy Volts are not homicidal death machines hell-bent on burning their unsuspecting passengers alive.  I’d say that’s a definite win for consumer product safety.  Case closed.

While it may be true that all’s well that ends well, I have a couple of lingering concerns.  First of all, the entire investigation lasted six weeks.  Which (we suppose) included Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, and the MLK holiday.  Let’s be straight: How much federal work do we really think was done over that period of time?  Four, maybe five days, tops?  Seems like a brief investigation for an issue that received so much attention initially.

Frankly, I’m not so concerned with the amount of time that was involved in the investigation, primarily because I thought the allegations were bogus to begin with.  I think I’m more concerned that there was so much alarm at the outset of the investigation for a claim that had no merit, and was shown to have no merit in a very short amount of time.  After all, even if the Government had worked each and every day for the 6 weeks of their inquiry, in terms of investigations, 6 weeks is but a twinkling of the federal eye.

By contrast, how long will Chevy Volts feel the effects of their unfounded reputation as mobile electric chairs?  How much business did Chevy lose as a direct and proximate consequence of alarmism and over-reaction?  How much business will Chevy continue to lose?  Obviously, the nature and severity of these harms is unquantifiable; the damage has been done, and the extent cannot be known.  Of course, the Volt’s name has now been cleared, but surely that must seem like cold comfort.

Wisconsin man sues
Mountain Dew. Claims his bottle
Contained a mouse. Eek!

Defendant moves for
Dismissal. The grounds? The claim
Is impossible.

Mountain Dew would have
Turned the whole mouse into a
“jelly-like substance.”

Wait, you’re kidding right?
This cure, worse than the disease!
Marketing? PR?

To do the Dew, or
To not do the Dew, Shakespeare,
That is the question.

Ronald Ball v. PepsiCo, 09-L-440 (Madison Co., Wisc. 2011)

We here at Abnormal Use are in the Christmas spirit, which gives us the urge to post about Christmas movies acting under the color of law.  Last week, I settled in with my long-suffering significant other to watch Miracle on 34^th Street. Written and directed by George Seaton, and starring Maureen O’Hara, John Payne, Edmund Gwenn and a young Natalie Wood, the 1947 film is ostensibly a Christmas classic, but really, it’s a cinematic exploration of some of the worst legal malpractice I’ve ever seen.

For those of you who have never seen it or just don’t remember the plot, let me break it down for you. The movie begins on Thanksgiving Day in New York City. The Macy’s parade is starting. Except the Macy’s Santa Claus is drunk. Why? As if this question needed an answer, it’s because New York is cold and Santa must stay warm! This is the most reasonable part of the movie.

That’s when “real” Santa (a/k/a Kris Kringle, played by Edmund Gwenn) elbows his way through the crowd, taking command of the Macy’s sleigh from Drunk Santa. Kringle is so adept at cracking his whip, looking jolly, and waiving like Queen Elizabeth that he parlays the gig into a full-time job at Macy’s, where he is immensely popular with parents and children alike. So far, so good. Except that Kringle insists that he is, in fact, Santa Claus.

He is not. Let me be clear about this. Miracle on 34th Street is not about some Christmas magic where Santa Claus comes to New York, spreads good cheer, and gets confused for having dementia. It’s about a good-natured elderly man with a love of Christmas who is correctly identified as having dementia. Think I’m kidding? Think again.

Fact No. 1: When Kringle goes to work at Macy’s, he’s asked to produce his employment card. His home is identified as “Brooks’ Memorial Home for the Aged,” in Long Island. Not exactly the winter wonderland of the Arctic Circle.

Fact No. 2: Kringle learns that he’s going to be subjected to a psychological evaluation by Macy’s in-house psychiatrist (played by Porter Hall). (Sidebar: Does your employer have a good benefits plan if they provide you with on-site psychiatrists, or does that mean you’ve picked the wrong place to work? Discuss among yourselves.) Kringle is not concerned. He knows that he can pass any psychological exam, because in his words, he’s taken dozens of them.

Fact No. 3: This is a subtle one. One of Kringle’s treating physicians from the Memorial Home shows up at Macy’s looking for the Claus. He is asked directly whether Kringle poses a threat to anyone. He responds that Kringle is not a threat, “just like the guy in Hollywood who owns a restaurant and pretends he’s a Russian prince.” I had no idea what this line meant. So I Googled it. Turns out that during the 1940s and 1950s, there was a restauranteur in Hollywood who insisted that he was the nephew of Tsar Nicholas II. This was false and everyone knew it. But the lie wasn’t causing anyone any harm, so it was all in good fun. Just like Kringle. So what if he thinks he’s Santa? It’s not hurting anyone.

Eventually Kringle and the Macy’s psychiatrist get into an argument, which results in Kringle taking his cane up-side the shrink’s head. The shrink gets mad, presumably because he just got beaten up by an old man, and decides to have Kringle committed. Which leads us to the commitment hearing, also known as the climax of the movie, taking place on Christmas Eve. In the Santa Claus industry, this is known as “BusinessTime.”

At this point, it is critical that we define the issue presented to the court. The issue is whether Kringle should be subject to involuntary psychiatric commitment due to the fact that he suffers from diminished competence, which presents a significant risk of physical harm either to himself or to others. It is also critical that we keep in mind the material facts which would be offered in support of the petition. First, the commitment proceedings were commenced by a psychiatrist who we can presume is licensed by the State of New York. Second, the psychiatrist was, in fact, assaulted by Kringle. This seems like it would be an open-and-shut case for the state.

Except that both attorneys are trying their best, it seems, to be as incompetent as possible. In fairness, the state’s attorney (played by Jerome Cowan) is deliberately trying to lose his case. For obvious reasons, he doesn’t want to be the guy responsible for locking Santa Claus up on Christmas Eve. So he does what every decent lawyer would try to do in the same situation: just enough to not get sanctioned, or lose his license or his job. In retrospect, he should’ve tried a little harder.

Bear in mind that for involuntary commitment, the state bears the burden of proof. And that the psychiatrist who started the commitment procedure is sitting at counsel table. This makes it all the more perplexing that the state’s only witness would be Kringle. Kringle, the defendant. Kringle, whose mental competency is at issue. Kris [expletive] Kringle. The state’s examination is equally perplexing. It consists of two questions. First, where do you live? The North Pole. Second, do you believe that you’re Santa Claus? Of course. And that’s it. No further questions.

This turns out to be the only evidence that the state offers in furtherance of the petition for commitment. The court received no testimony whatsoever from the very psychiatrist who swore out the need for commitment, even though he’s sitting in the courtroom. I’ll circle back up to this in a minute.

Let’s turn our focus back over to Kringle’s lawyer (played by John Payne). This guy kind of annoys me. At several points he refers to himself as the world’s greatest lawyer, and not in the charming, sarcastic, self-deprecating kind of way. He really means it. That Christmas, Santa should’ve asked for a better lawyer.

Let’s start out with the most glaring mistake / “legal strategy”: The state calls Santa to the stand. Kringle’s lawyer does not invoke the privilege against self-incriminating testimony. In fact, he waives it while boldly proclaiming, “We have nothing to hide!” Trust me, guy, you’ve always got something to hide. In your case, it’s the fact that your client assaulted the shrink. You might want to sweep that under the rug. Luckily, because the state phoned its performance in, Santa gets away unscathed.

But what if Kringle’s lawyer had asserted the Fifth Amendment? Santa doesn’t take the stand, which puts the state in the box of either calling no witnesses or calling the psychiatrist. If the state calls no witnesses, then Kringle can move for immediate dismissal. If the state calls the shrink, then Kringle can rebut him with Kringle’s own treating physician from the Memorial Home (who, as you recall, is in town). It becomes a battle of the experts, which gives the judge an avenue to do what he wants to do, which is deny the petition for commitment on the merits and move on with his holiday.

Ultimately, it doesn’t matter. Once the state inexplicably rested its case after rigorously cross-examining Santa Claus, Kringle’s lawyer makes the opposite of a good decision: he chooses to not move for dismissal as a matter of law for the state’s failure to present evidence in support of its case. Why? Because Kringle’s lawyer has decided that he wants to keep trying the case until he’s ready to win. This is a tremendous tactical snafu, again, since the judge is begging for a quick way out of this case forever.

Kringle’s lawyer begins his case-in-chief. The first witness is none other than R.H. Macy himself (played by Harry Antrim). Macy testifies that he believes in Santa Claus. This prompts the state to pop out of his chair and object on the bases that the question is “Ridiculous, Irrelevant, and Immaterial.” This is  followed soon afterby the state’s ridiculous, irrelevant, and immaterial demand to the court to issue a legal ruling as to whether Santa Claus exists.

Kringle’s lawyer sees the state’s crazy and goes all in by calling his opponent’s five year old son. Without objection, the state’s lawyer allows his son to be cross-examined by “the world’s greatest lawyer” on whether he believes Santa exists. This results in the state conceding the existence of Santa Claus.

This doesn’t resolve the issue of whether Kringle is crazy, though. After all, the defense of the entire case has been that Kringle can’t be crazy if he is, in fact, Santa Claus. To prove this last element of his case, Kringle’s lawyer resorts to the Supremacy Clause of the United States Constitution and the doctrine of preclusion. Remember, this is the same guy who did not want to use the Constitution to keep his client from testifying. He’s now using the Constitution to make a very sophisticated argument that because the Postal Service will deliver Santa Claus’s mail to Kringle, the federal government believes that Kringle is Santa Claus, and therefore, that the State of New York must believe it, too.

And it works. Case dismissed. Kringle’s lawyer finally finds a way to give the judge a way to not commit Santa Claus to an institution, even if he picks the most complicated way to do it, and even if it required him to skip over easier procedural avenues. He still got a good outcome for his client. That is truly the Christmas miracle on 34th Street.

But now there’s a problem. Earlier I mentioned that the state’s lawyer was trying to do just enough to not get sanctioned or lose his license or his job. Now that the hearing’s over, Santa Claus can make life very tough for the state’s lawyer and Macy’s. After all, the state brought a commitment proceeding against Kringle, then offered almost no evidence in support of the petition. Furthermore, the state’s case was built upon the professional opinions of Macy’s psychiatrist, who lied about Santa’s mental evaluation just to have him committed. Santa may be full of goodwill and cheer, but come December 26, it would not be unreasonable for the Claus to file an action for abuse of process and malicious prosecution against his former employer and the State of New York.

Originally, I set out to detail why Santa should have lost his trial. Ultimately, I have concluded that the only folks who lost that trial were the fictional taxpayers, who funded the lawyering debacle, and myself.

We here at Abnormal Use hope that you and your family had a happy Thanksgiving. I certainly did. Turkey Day is my favorite holiday, and just like many others, this past one was great. There are many reasons why I love Thanksgiving. But one of the most important is that it gives me an opportunity to step back from my life, stop worrying about all the stuff that doesn’t matter (which is almost everything), and be appreciative for the few important blessings in my life. I don’t do that nearly as often as I should.

Now, you may be thinking that I have the same attitude toward Christmas, and therefore, that I’m looking forward to the next four weeks. You would be dead wrong. I approach Christmas the same way that I do Alabama football: I know it exists, and in theory, I have no problem with that; but I cannot stand the fans. They are loud. They are obnoxious. They run their mouths about how great it is all year long, regardless of whether it’s in season or not. And at the end of the day, it just brings out the worst in all of us.

Case in point: Black Friday, the “official” beginning of the Christmas season. (I put the word official in quotation marks because this is a lie. It’s outrageous, but Christmas music has been playing on the radio since November 1.)

For many folks, Black Friday begins on the preceding day, also known as Thanksgiving Thursday, by camping out in front of big box retailers. Just so you know, if you ever see me sleeping in front of a Wal-Mart, please, give me a dollar. I am not observing Black Friday. I am homeless and probably very hungry.  But back to the matter at hand.  At the stroke of midnight, the big boxes open their doors to become the Ellis Island for the tired, the poor, the huddling masses yearning to spend freely. For stuff they don’t need. For people who will not be appreciative.

This sounds perfectly awful. And yet, somehow each year, we find some way to make it even more perfectly awful. This year, the tool of choice for dragging humanity to a new low was pepper spray. In case you missed the news, let me run it back for you. It was Black Friday at a Wal-Mart in Los Angeles. As seen in this video, the store was packed from wall-to-wall with people. A stampede broke out near an Xbox display. As the herd of people began their charge, you can hear people start to scream and cry. This is because they — the twenty or so victims — had been pepper sprayed. Allegedly by a woman who is 36 to 38 years old, which scientifically, is old enough to know better. Over video games.

That is certifiably insane. But the crazy train doesn’t run out of track there. The prime suspect turned herself into police that night. After talking with her, they let her go. As of the time of this writing, it is not clear whether charges will be brought.

That is absolutely preposterous. Pepper spray has many intended, foreseeable, socially responsible uses, including (and pretty well limited to) providing personal protection from the threat of imminent violence and, when used by law enforcement, riot control. Using it as a competitive advantage to disable other shoppers is not an appropriate use, obviously. I hope to God we do not now live in a world where that will have to be added to the product as a warning.

For those of you who are devil’s advocates, perhaps you’re thinking to yourself that the perp (who we’ll call “Molly Mace”) felt like the crowd presented a danger to her safety, and therefore, she used the pepper spray for personal protection. Fat chance. The crowd was not there to threaten Molly Mace specifically. Consequently, if it were reasonably possible that she could have escaped the perceived threat to her safety by leaving, why shouldn’t she have? Was it really necessary that she discharge pepper spray into a crowd of people whose only crime was that they were at the same place for the exact same purpose as she was? And let’s not overlook a material fact here. The information available suggests that after Molly Mace pepper sprayed the crowd, she grabbed a few Xbox games, paid for them, and ran for the door. Is this the conduct of a woman who was really perceiving a threat to her safety, or the act of a determined bargain shopper trying to escape from the bowels of hell itself? The answer speaks for itself.

Regardless, Molly Mace’s actions are offensive to civility. They’re atrocious when you remember that she was probably buying Christmas gifts. Is there really a Christmas gift that is so important it is worth hurting someone else for? Of course not. It is alarming to consider that now, there are people among us who don’t share that sense of common decency, and that those folks are not punished for their wrongful conduct.

I know we’re technically into the Christmas season. But I’m not ready to let the Thanksgiving season slip away. In addition to being thankful for what we have, ladies and gentlemen, let’s also be thankful for what we had: a society that would be disgusted at the thought of deliberately causing violence to others at any time, but especially during the holidays; as well as a society that was not afraid to take those people who would so willingly do violence to each other and cut them off from the vine. Let’s also be thankful for hope, that what we had once will be ours again.

Thanksgiving is just around the corner, and you know what that means: James Bond movies will be playing around the clock. On at least three different channels. All weekend long. For whatever reason, in America, nothing says “Thanksgiving” like British spies, beautiful women, and exotic, tropical locales. And I’m thankful for that.

For many reasons, my favorite Bond movie is Goldfinger. It has the best theme song. It has some of the most iconic scenes in cinematic history (e.g., the golden girl, the laser, the nuclear device that Bond defuses with 0:07 seconds remaining). It has Oddjob. It has Bond’s love interest, who my puritan editor Dedman is allowing me to refer to only as “P. Galore.” And, perhaps most important for the Kentucky Colonel in me, the movie takes place in Kentucky – Kentucky! – and involves horseracing. This movie was destined for greatness.

But that’s not why Goldfinger is the best. It’s the best because of the interaction between 007 and the villain, Auric Goldfinger. Without question, some of the best dialogue in the entire Bond movie franchise happens between Bond and Goldfinger, and it’s usually Goldfinger doing the talking. Which leads me to the jumping off point for this post. One of my favorite quotes, not just in Bond but probably in life, comes from Mr. Goldfinger himself: “They have a saying in Chicago. Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. The third time, it’s enemy action.”

It was 4am on April 14, 2011 in Barkhamsted, Connecticut. Homeowner Storm Connors was awakened by the sound of commotion in his garage. He went to investigate. That’s when Connors found his garage consumed in flames. Inside were two vehicles. One, a brand new lithium-ion battery powered Chevy Volt; the other, a Suzuki Samurai that Connors had converted to electric power. Both vehicles were charging their batteries at the time of the fire, and both were badly damaged. There was some initial speculation that the Volt’s battery caused the fire; but this was never confirmed. There are also reports that the same Volt caught on fire again four days later, this time, while it was not charging.

One fire? That’s happenstance.

It was early June in Wisconsin. Three weeks before, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration had conducted safety tests on a Chevy Volt; specifically putting the Volt through the “pole” test (which simulates a 20mph side-impact) and the “rotisserie” test (which simulates the vehicle in a collision-related roll). The Volt passed with flying colors, earning a five-star rating, which is the highest rating that can be awarded. Three weeks later, apparently while sitting at a federal junkyard, the Volt caught fire. After investigation, it was determined that the failure to de-energize the battery, along with some other case-specific circumstances, most likely caused the fire in question.

Two fires? Mere coincidence.

It was two weeks ago at Lake Norman, North Carolina. A Volt was charging in a homeowner’s garage when a fire broke out . . . . I think you know where this is going.

And now there are the alarmists. “Three times!,” they yell. “Clearly this is enemy action! Chevy and / or the Volt has declared war on American garages. They are terrorists and must be stopped. At the very least, we must bring legal action against them, suing in every state we can for civil conspiracy, RICO, and of course, unfair trade practices. These three occasions of unfriendly fire establish a pattern of conduct that prove an evil intent toward the American people. General Motors is a scourge upon civilization!”

Alright, let’s all take a deep breath and find a quiet moment to thank God we’re not among the ranks of the products hypochondriacs.

So far, the investigation of these matters has been inconclusive. Neither GM nor the government has been able to reproduce the circumstances of the fire that occurred in June. And let it not be forgotten that the June fire happened three weeks after crash testing took place. In terms of an imminent threat to health and safety, this isn’t one. And as for the fires in April and November, the causes have yet to be determined. Although at this point, there’s no more reason to suspect that the fires originated with the electric vehicles than with faulty wiring in the walls of the garages.

But let’s say that the alarmists are right and that lithium-ion batteries caused each of the three fires at issue. To them I say, “So what?” There are somewhere around 8000 Volts on the road right now. Three malfunctions out of 8000 cars ain’t too shabby. I’ll play those odds.

Personally, I hope this is all part of a very clever marketing strategy. Sales of electric vehicles seem underwhelming, due in no small part I’m sure to the reputation that EVs have slightly more power than a spinning hamster wheel. Most folks would probably be shocked to learn that an electric vehicle has enough power to start a small fire, let alone the power to burn their own house down! It would open up a whole new male market. Forget Corvettes and Porches. If you want power, get a Volt. The ads practically write themselves. “Volt. If you don’t squeeze every ounce of performance out of your car in between charges, your car will self-destruct because you don’t deserve to drive it; the Volt will also take your house, your golf clubs, and any other vehicles you may own because you don’t deserve them either. Most drivers need not apply.”

If it were up to me, I would run the ad during this Thanksgiving’s Bond-a-thon. And I would be thankful for my royalty check from GM.

A reflection on this past Halloween night, brought to you by Abnormal Use:

It was Monday night. All Hallows’ Eve. I was nestled in my chair, in front of the TV, finding myself disappointed for yet another year. Why, you ask? Because there it was, Halloween night, and I was struggling to find a good Halloween movie on anywhere in the 2 million or so channels I apparently get now.

No, FX, Ghost Rider, starring Nicholas Cage, doesn’t count, if for no other reason than mere principle.

No, Biography, Halloween: The Inside Story is a poor substitute for what is otherwise an excellent holiday choice. At least you get the right idea.

No, VH1, The Rocky Horror Picture Show is . . . in a class by itself. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

No, Ion, despite the name of the movie, Bloodsport is about Jean Claude van Damme kickboxing his way through Thailand. I’m sorry you’ve been misled. PS: what does your channel even do? I’ve never really been clear about that, and I’m not even sure why it’s on my channel list.

No, National Geographic, Bigfoot: The Definitive Guide is not even close to being relevant. If you went with “The Ghost of Bigfoot” or “Bigfoot: Man or Demon?,” I could give you credit. And let’s be honest, Nat Geo, if you’re going to compromise your credibility enough to show a documentary on the definitive guide to bigfoot, there’s no further compromise necessary on your end to re-imagine bigfoot as a ghost or demon.

No, Documentary, showing Ghost Bird, the true-life search for “the elusive ivory-billed woodpecker,” is outright fraud.  In a just world, the fact that you would try to pass this off as appropriate Halloween programming would be actionable.

No, FX — what, we’re back to you again? No! Twilight is an abomination! Under no circumstances should you be showing this. “But it has vampires and werewolves,” you say, “What’s more Halloweenie than that?” Give me a [RADIO EDIT] break. If your programming director were here, I would hold my hand out and demand that he choke himself. If he had any decency, he would.

On the flip side, Turner Classic Movies, where were you? I thought out of everyone, I could count on you that night. Turns out, not so much.

So this had me all worked up. In a world where Christmas decorations start coming out the day after Labor Day, all I ask for is one night when the storytelling of true masters of suspense can be showcased. What about Nosferatu? Where’s Vincent Price? How about the original Friday the 13th?, House on Haunted Hill, or Amityville Horror? I remember when I was younger, every Saturday night TNT would broadcast “MonsterVision,” which consisted solely and exclusively of the worst B-movies from the 1950s. And it was excellent.

These old Halloween classics had something for everyone.  Suspense, cheap scares, horror.  There’s even a tie-in with products liability. Macabre was directed by William Castle, who was arguably a better marketer than movie-maker. For the release of Macabre, Castle offered a $1000 Lloyd’s of London life insurance policy to each person who purchased a ticket, just in case they died of fright during the film. He also paid nurses to staff the lobbies of each theater showing his movie and had hearses parked outside. Normally when we talk about products liability, we think of products which are not intended to cause harm to their user. Castle embraced the idea that his movie would frighten the audience to death and carried it to the bank.

The bottom line is that with so many suspenseful classics to choose from, it defies credulity that every network would choose to show exactly none of them on the one day that’s most deserving.  Thanks, TV, for letting us down again.

Halloween is just around the corner. And so it’s only fitting that Abnormal Use should take a moment to appreciate products from a spookier perspective. For your reading enjoyment, we present the following Top 6(66) haunted / possessed products, currently available at eBay. Who knows if they will lead to products litigation?

Number 6: Possessed / Haunted Ouija Board

Item No.: 280754565708
Price: $89.00
Bids: 0
Returns: 3 Days / Money Back

Ok, confession time. I have never personally played with a Ouija Board. But I have been present when Ouija Boards were broken out and played with. They blow my mind. I don’t understand them, and for the few times I’ve been present, there is no way the participants were moving the planchette. Also, I was way older than I should have been when I learned that Ouija was not spelled Weegee. Color me embarrassed.

Anyway, the reputation of Ouija Boards precedes them. Which should make for an easy sale of the Ouija Board at issue. Not so. As with most products, when it comes to making a sale, the art is in the pitch. Here, the pitch is lack-luster. The Ouija Board is allegedly possessed by the spirit of the seller’s friend’s dead husband. Yawn. We need more! Did the dead husband die a violent death? Was he involved in a murder / suicide? Did he get sucked into the Ouija Board by some spiritual accident? To justify dropping $100 on this board, I need to know more than the fact that some chick’s dead hubby is hanging out in limbo carrying on casual conversation with the living through a board game. Does he also haunt Scrabble? Or checkers? How about when the wife dies? Will she haunt Bunco? So many loose ends.

Also, as a final observation, if you’re going to sell something haunted / possessed, you really shouldn’t have a return policy. The cache with selling items of paranormal personal property is that you want them gone. It’s hard to maintain your credibility if you’re willing to offer a money back guarantee to folks who are not pleased with their haunting experience.

Number 5: “Paranormal Lucky Rabbit’s Foot”

Item No.: 150676485777
Price: $49.99
Bids: 0
Returns: Not Accepted

This item is exactly what you think it is. It’s a pink, fuzzy, rabbit’s foot key chain. Nothing spooky about that. Except that this key chain is “possibly haunted [or] possessed.” For $49.99 it better be! A regular, un-haunted, un-possessed rabbit’s foot key chain retails on eBay for $2.99. What on earth (or beyond) allows this particular item to command the paranormal premium? Unfortunately, the seller has no idea. By his own admission, he’s “unsure” of how to access the lucky aspects of the charm or “[h]ow they are brought about.” There’s not even a spooky story to go with the sales pitch. So, we’re left with an item that may or may not be haunted / possessed; and even if it is, there’s no user manual to tell us how to get at that dirty black magic.

So whose fault is that? According to the seller, it’s your own fault. “This item is only for the believers and enthusiasts of the paranormal world.” In other words, if you buy the item and you don’t have good luck, it’s user error. You’re not a true believer. And if you are a true believer, our seller asks, “[h]ow much is luck worth? Hundreds, thousands, millions? I wouldn’t know, but I’m going to start this auction at only $49.95.” The fact of the matter is that if the seller is able to pass off a rabbit’s foot at $50 apiece, he needs to hold onto it.

The more important question here is what haunts the rabbit’s foot? The seller never tells us. We can only presume it is the ghost of the rabbit that the foot used to be attached to. And if that’s the case, the rabbit was never really that lucky to begin with.

Number 4: Items from the Krausemueller Estate

Item 1: Haunted Possessed Devil Doll from the Gates of Hell
Item No.: 360401339932
Price: $999.00
Bids: 0
Returns: Not Accepted

Item 2: Haunted Spirit Possessed with Scrying Mirror–the Power to Alter Your Future!!!!
Item No.: 360401338813
Price: $499.00
Bids: 0
Returns: Not Accepted

These items get instant spooky-street cred just for the fact they are shipped from the “Krausemueller Estate.” In terms of frightening languages, German ranks right at the top. In fact, I will go so far as to say that German should become the official language of Halloween. For instance, compare and contrast: Trick or Treat vs. Suesses oder Saures. A kid that screams Trick or Treat has done just enough to earn a fun-size Snickers. A kid that screams Suesses oder Saures will have candy heaped upon him by frightened homeowners as “protection” from their homes being destroyed by Blitz-Saures.

But I digress. Additional respect goes out to the Krausemueller Estate crowd for teeing up their products with elaborate stories. The Devil Doll is alleged to cause visions of children being tortured. The scrying mirror . . . . well, I had to Google that. Apparently, scrying mirrors are used as media for psychic visions. The best example of this in popular culture is the game Bloody Mary. Anyway, the Krausemueller Estate has lengthy stories of how they came into possession of these demonic toys. It’s a fun read if you’re into that sort of thing.

Number 3: Haunted Paranormal Metaphysical Demonic Entity Possesses Doll Wicca Occult Djinn

Item No.: 330618918480
Price: $169.99
Bids: 0
Returns: None

Immediately, the prospective buyer is greeted by creepy music. That’s a subtle, yet classy touch. Additionally, the seller pitches his product with a pretty good story, which is appreciated. The story is even Halloweeny enough: “Over 20 different sounds have been heard that are very unearthly and rather demonic in nature.” But as you read on, you learn that the entity possessing this doll is not so much demonic in nature as he is just downright immature. “[The doll] likes to make obscene noises that resemble flatulence. No odours [sic] were noted.” Well that’s good news. Basically, this “demonic doll” is just the re-incarnation of the Ghost of College Roommates Past.

This seller adds a nice touch though. He includes a product warning and disclaimer of liability. “By bidding on this auction, you agree that the seller is not responsible for any paranormal activity that may or may not occur once the item is yours. . . . The law states that paranormal and metaphysical items are to be used for entertainment purposes only. We will not be held responsible for any result or activity which may arise.”

We’re not exactly sure of what law he’s referring to regarding disclaimers of paranormal and metaphysical activity. But if this whole selling evil dolls thing doesn’t work out, maybe he’s got a bright future in practicing law. There’s probably a niche for drafting paranormal or metaphysical contracts. The downside is that’s probably how he’d be paid, too.

Number 2: Haunted Vampire Doll Possessed with 3 Succubus Spirits!

Item No.: 187736191669
Price: $121.00 (Buy It Now for $227.11)
Bids: 0
Return: 3 Days / Merchandise Credit

Immediately upon opening the product description site, you know you’ve made a good choice coming here. Haunting music starts playing, and the first text you encounter is: “Warning: Never has there been a doll this active!!! If you cannot handle the doll, you must destroy it.” What’s so awful about this doll? Well, there’s a host of side-effects of doll-ownership that I can’t list because they are too crude for this website, even by my low standards. Here’s just a taste: “Do [other dolls] make you sleep walk and eat raw meat, even squeeze blood from a steak and then put in a glass to drink? . . . . You will feel this doll, hot and cold spots, have psychic communication, erotic visions, as well as poltergeist activities.” For other, more descriptive, hilarious descriptions of side-effects, I strongly encourage you to go check out the product page.

The descriptions alone would justify the high ranking on this very definitive, authoritative list. But there’s also good customer service. The seller provides specific product instructions on what to do if you do not want the evil doll / trio of succubi in your life. “You must wrap [the doll] in a white cloth and surround her with the sea salt I will send along.” Seems arbitrary, but if it’s effective, who am I to judge? Also, Holy Water is included in the price of purchase. Seriously.

Update: We could not link to this page because it appears to have been taken down.  Let this be a lesson if you’re thinking about selling vampire erotica on eBay.  You people know who you are.  And I’m talking to you.

Number 1: Coconut Wood Rings

Item No. 1: Powerful Revenge and Unlimited Wishes Granted
Item No.: 110757656824
Price: $18.00
Bids: 1
Returns: 3 Days / Exchange Only

Item No. 2: Basilisk King Possessed Haunted Ring Extreme Protection–Grants Unlimited Wishes
Item No.: 110757657338
Price: $14.00
Bids: 0
Returns: 3 Days / Exchange Only

Item No. 3: Succubus Demon Possessed Haunting Ring Alters Your Body–Does Grant Endless Wishes
Item No.: 220875341981
Price: $14.00
Bids: 0
Returns: 3 Days / Exchange Only

Item No. 4: The Real Oni Demon Possessed Shapeshifter Power Haunted Ring of Unlimited Wishes
Item No.: 370549777273 / 250908436558 / 250908442903
Price: $14.00
Bids: 0
Returns: 3 Days / Exchange Only

If there were such a thing as the Crazy Scale, these items would bury the needle. Despite having different names / auction numbers, each of these items is the same: it’s a purple misshapen ring made out of coconut wood. The beauty of this product (and the reason it ranks so high on the list) is because of the descriptions. Sometimes, the ring derives its power from the great Egyptian Sphinx. Sometimes, the ring’s power comes from the lost Mayan city of B’aak. (If you’ve never heard of B’aak, don’t worry about it. Neither has Google.) Still other times, the power comes from a cult of Japanese cosmologists. Whatever, who cares where it comes from? The point is what these rings can do. Which is everything that is awesome.  These rings will: (1) improve happiness; (2) improve sexual performance; (3) convey the secret of invisibility; (4) allow powerful revenge; (5) heighten your senses; (6) make you famous; (7) make you rich; (8) alter your physique; (9) increase your psychic ability; (10) allow you to summon genies and ghosts; (11) provide endless protection against all evil; (12) provide intense good luck; (13) allow attractiveness to radiate from your very soul; (14) prevent you from overeating; (15) slow the aging process; (16) give you a more positive outlook; (17) help you be aware and watch out for traps; (18) allow you to defeat your enemies; (19) ensure victory against all odds; and–I kid you not–(20) provide booty enhancement.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. If you had a ring that could allow you to conquer everything and give you a booty enhancement, why would you price it under $20? Why not charge, oh I don’t know, a bajillion dollars? The sellers will have you know that their religion of Sphinx worship / Japanese star-gazing / Mayan BS prevents them from charging unholy amounts of money for sharing secrets of universal success. These folks are like the Franciscan Monks of gawdy trinkets, taking a vow of poverty to bring you products that look bad and do nothing.

It also doesn’t help that according to the product information page, the rings are shipped from either the Planet Kashyyyk (which is where Chewbacca and other Wookiees from the Star Wars universe come from) or Enhasa (which is a city that exists only in the Super Nintendo game “Chrono Trigger,” circa 1995). I wish I were making any of this up.

For my coup de grace, I leave you with my favorite of all the haunted Halloween products. It is yet another coconut wood ring, the Haunted Ring Oni Demon Possessed Regaining Girlfriend / Boyfriend Wild Monkey Love.

Item No.: 370549773877
Price: $14.00
Bids: 0
Returns: 3 Days / Exchange Only

As with the other coconut-job rings above, this ring is powered by the Sphinx / Mayans / aliens / Illuminati / Atlantis. Among other things, this ring will: (1) allow you to regain lost love; (2) give you more money; (3) open a portal to the spirit world; (4) get you the man / woman that you want to love forever; and most incredibly (5) heal brain tumors.

In terms of product liability, there’s a lot of take-aways here. If you’re going to sell a piece of demonic property, it’s a good idea to include an appropriate warning and a disclaimer of liability. That way, when your evil doll comes to life and goes on a homicidal rampage, you can tee up assumption of risk as an affirmative defense. They can’t say you didn’t warn them! Perhaps the most important lesson is summed up in the phrase “Caveat Emptor,” especially when you consider its modern corollary from P.T. Barnum, “There’s a sucker born every minute.”

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some Christmas shopping to do. Rings and dolls for everyone. Happy Halloween to all. Seusses ober Saures!

On occasion, we here at Abnormal Use write about evidentiary issues, usually pertaining to the intersection of law and science. It is at this intersection that we find conflict, sometimes severe, regarding the standards for admissibility of expert testimony. This area of the law is usually a fertile ground for discussion, and the facts are generally pretty intriguing. And so it goes with today’s post. Let me preach on it.

Recently, friend of the blog Steve Mirsky (of Scientific American fame) alerted us a piece in The Guardian reporting on a court that had refused to allow an expert to testify in the field of mathematics. This piqued our interest, so we decided to look into the matter a little further.

The specific case that Mirsky was referring to was a murder case from England. The prosecution’s theory was that the crime was committed by a person wearing a specific type of athletic shoe whose sole had been worn down in a particular way, leaving a particular type of tread pattern behind. It was alleged that the defendant, coincidentally, had shoes whose sole matched the particular tread pattern. We understand from our friends who practice criminal defense that the legal term for such information is “a really bad fact.”

The prosecution wanted to take the really bad fact a step further. They wanted to call a statistician who would apply a mathematical proposition known as the Bayes’ theorem to the facts of the case. Basically, the Bayes’ theorem is a mathematical expression of common sense. It addresses the probability that a given event could occur given the concurrence of certain circumstantial facts. For example, let’s say that a hit-and-run fatality occurred in South Carolina and all that was known about the suspect vehicle is that it was a gray sports car. As a matter of mathematical theory, it is possible to determine the probability that the suspect car was – say – a Maserati (or any other type of car). Naturally, the more specific factual input that is provided, the less probable it is that an event consisting of all that input could occur.

And that’s probably why the English judge had such a problem with admitting expert testimony about Bayes’ theorem with regard to a criminal case. From the judge’s perspective, the statistician would testify about how improbable it would be that a defendant would have just the right pair of shoes, with just the right sole pattern, as compared to police observations of the murder’s physical evidence. Our common sense would tell us that it’s just too much of a coincidence that the defendant would have so much unusual information in common with the suspect. And that therefore, the defendant must be guilty.

But not so fast. Before we throw the book at someone based on coincidence, perhaps we should ask how many people in the relevant sample (here, England) had the same type of shoes as the suspect? If the answer to that question were 1, then the correspondence of circumstantial evidence about the defendant as compared with the suspect would become more than just a convenient coincidence. However, the further the number moves away from 1, the less relevant the statistical evidence would seem to become. In the case at hand, the number seemed to be in the order of several hundred thousand pairs of the same types of shoes had been sold around England over 10 years. Consequently, it is possible that there could have been tens, hundreds, maybe thousands of the exact same types of shoes with consistent wear patterns.

Let’s be honest about ourselves for a moment. Human nature is susceptible to drawing firm conclusions about truth and innocence based upon the coincidence of circumstances that we believe to be highly improbable based on our common sense. This is especially true when what we believe to be common sense is backed up by “science.” When it comes to statistical evidence, without knowing the relevant sample size, we really can’t evaluate in a reliable fashion how probable or improbable the circumstances are of a given event. And without having that confidence in the statistical testimony to be offered, believing that it is likely to lead to unfair extrapolations of truth and innocence, it is better to simply exclude the testimony altogether. And while we’re being real, if a criminal prosecution comes down to specious statistical evidence, the case was never that strong to begin with.

The analysis of this case reminds us of the famous quip: “There are three kinds of lies: lies; damned lies; and statistics.” Criminal convictions must be based on sterner stuff. There may be room for statistical evidence, and there often is. But statistical evidence must have the same indicia of reliability as other types of expert testimony; otherwise, there is a 100 percent chance that it must be excluded.

Last week, I came across news reports from neighboring Spartanburg County about two arrests. One person had been arrested for reportedly discharging a firearm into his house; the other, under unrelated circumstances, for allegedly harassing her neighbors. The common thread between these arrests was that both suspects were allegedly under the influence of the same, unusual drug at the time of their offenses: bath salts. Later in the same afternoon, a friend told me that he had recently fired an employee because she showed up to work high on — what else? — bath salts.

Now, I will be the first to admit that when it comes to being informed about trends among the drug culture, I’m not exactly on the cutting edge. First and foremost, I don’t take baths. I’m more of a shower-man myself. I’m not really familiar with bath salts, even when used as intended. So certainly, I had no idea that bath salts could be used as drugs, let alone that bath salt abuse is becoming a matter of national concern.

At first, the idea of abusing bath salts seems kind of comical. Before doing much research, I assumed that the demographic of the average bath salt abuser was a bored, suburban high schooler who had grown tired of sniffing magic markers and glue. I imagined it was inexpensive, recreational, and ultimately non-threatening. I mean, it’s bath salt. How dangerous can it be?

Turns out, my initial impression was almost dead wrong. I was right about the inexpensive part. The market rate for a hit of bath salts appears to be $20. However, by all accounts, the high is incredibly powerful, and therefore, incredibly dangerous. Common side effects include increased heart rate and blood pressure, agitation, and chest pains that mimic heart attacks. And these are the more pleasant side effects. Other common side effects include delusions, hallucinations, and extreme paranoia, all of which cause the user to experience a form of self-destructive psychosis. For example, there are reports that one user, acting under a psychotic delusion, tried to carve his own liver out of his body with a mechanical pencil. These are in addition to adverse effects to the user’s heart, brain, and kidneys.

Now before you’re tempted to clean all bath salts out of your home, here’s the good news. There are true bath salts and there are dangerous bath salts. Many bath salts are appropriate for their intended use and cannot be used as a cheap high. We’re not talking about those bath salts. By contrast, the bath salts that are the problem – which we will call “dangerous bath salts”  —  are not really bath salts at all. They have no effect if they’re poured into your tub and cannot be used as bath salts. In fact, in addition to being improperly marketed as “bath salts,” the very same dangerous bath salts are sold as plant food, pond scum cleaner, and insecticide (it’s not clear whether these are effective uses or just other pretexts to sell the purported bath salts for a more sinister reason). As a general rule of thumb, if you’re trying to buy real bath salts, you probably can’t buy them at any place that sells dangerous bath salts, and vice versa.

So what makes the dangerous bath salts dangerous? Typically, there are three active ingredients: (1) mephedrone; (2) pyrovalerone; and (3) methylenedioxpyrovalerone (MDPV). These stimulants share many of the same adverse side-effects as cocaine, meth, and LSD. In fact, the dangerous bath salts are generally referred to as synthetic cocaine. These sinister ingredients are not in the true bath salts.

The dangerous bath salts are also of concern because of their easy availability. It is not unusual to find the dangerous bath salts for sale at malls, convenience stores, and “modern” smoke shops (which generally sell no tobacco). And of course, the dangerous bath salts are widely available on the Internet, making their purchase very easy indeed.

The dangerous bath salts apparently burst onto the drug scene roughly seven years ago, making their first wide appearance in European clubs. More recently, as in the past two years, the dangerous bath salts have jumped the Atlantic and taken the United States by storm. States are beginning to prohibit the dangerous bath salts, to the extent they contain any of the chemicals identified above. And effective this first week of October, the federal Drug Enforcement Administration is instituting an emergency nation-wide ban on the same chemicals. Normally, I consider “I’m from the Government, and I’m here to help” to be one of the most alarming phrases in the English language. But in this case of these dangerous bath salts, government action cannot come fast enough.

As if the inherent risks presented by the dangerous bath salts are not disturbing enough, we have the audacity of the manufacturers’ marketing strategy. Many packages of the dangerous bath salts come marked with the phrase “Not Intended for Human Consumption.” It’s easy to find this warning disingenuous.  Since the dangerous bath salts have no bath-related use, we must presume they are intended for consumption.  Other than the disclaimer, we are not aware of any other warnings on the packaging that inform users of the foreseeable adverse side effects of ingestion, such as psychotic delusions, suicidal tendencies, or the urge to carve your vital organs out of your body, even though these side effects are well-known.

Not surprisingly, products liability litigation is beginning to spring up around the country. See, e.g., Vance v. K&B Quick Stop, Inc. et al., 11-C-32 (Lincoln County, W.V.).  It should be noted that under conventional theories of product liability, it is not just the manufacturers of dangerous bath salts who can be sued; it may also be those who are involved in distribution or sales.

The manufacture and sale of the dangerous bath salts complicates the business of the legitimate bath salt industry.  There may be people — kids or other risk seekers — who want to experiment with bath salts, but don’t know that there’s a difference between hygiene-related bath salt and drug-related bath salt.  They may think it’s all the same.  And consequently, they may want to try to ingest legitimate bath salts.  The manufacturers and sellers of those salts must now be mindful of the reasonably foreseeable possibility that their products may be ingested, even though it’s not an intended use, and take precautions against that risk.

Ultimately, we are hopeful that state, local, and federal policy initiatives will stem the rising tide of bath salt drug abuse, and that the use of bath salts can be restored to its rightful and exclusive venue, in the bathroom, right next to our rubber duckies.