SCO, perhaps a bit stunned by Novell's aggressive Answer and Counterclaims, asked for more time to respond, and Novell has agreed. Here's their Stipulation [PDF], which allows SCO until September 12th to answer, and I'm guessing their attorneys are deep in research mode. Either that, or deep in vacation mode. To tell you the truth, that's the exciting part of a case, as far as I'm concerned, research, and the more complicated the issues, the more fun it is, and they're probably having fun, even if they aren't on a beach. High-stress fun, but fun.
Well, it'd probably be more fun if it weren't for that pesky cap on the legal fees.
There'd probably be more research too, if there were unlimited funds for the lawyers. It's the first thing that goes, you know, when money starts to dry up, research. That's when the paralegals start to take center stage, and while attorneys sometimes butter up paras by telling them that they know more than the attorneys do, trust me when I tell you, um, no. They don't.
. . . Well, sometimes they do, to be absolutely frank with you.
But probably not in a firm like Boies Schiller. Those are some far-out crazy dudes, on the cutting edge of try-anything-and-see-if-it-sticks, so personally, I'm looking forward to the results, although with the usual trepidation. They'll probably go down in history for their "The GPL is Unconstitutional", and not in a good way, but what I'll remember is their motion practice, which while offensive to me on several levels, was definitely creative, in both good and bad ways.
It affected me kind of like something that happened to me in Central Park once years ago, when I was there with a boyfriend one day, and there was some live music being played by some guys, playing Salsa -- how great the music in Central Park can be -- and people were dancing, naturally. One guy jumped up on a stage and was dancing by himself, staring right at me, and his footwork was definitely unusual and mighty fast and complex, but it left me completely cold. I didn't even realize it was supposed to impress me, until my boyfriend told me later, because to my eyes, it looked so unusual, it was odd.
I'm a geek, so dancing isn't the fastest way to my heart anyhow, even though I sincerely adore Salsa music and can even dance to it, sorta, as long as crowds aren't watching, you propel me where I'm supposed to go by taking a strong lead, and don't expect much. I followed this man's dancing with a genuine curiosity, because the steps were so unusual, but it affected me more like watching a dancing bear. It was dancing that was utterly alien to me, both impressive and icky at the same time. Didn't he see I was with someone, I wondered later? There he was, dancing for me with my boy friend standing right there. It felt kind of offensive, when I thought about it. Did he think I'd be so impressed I'd walk off with him? Slip him my phone number? What was the fantasy? Whatever it was, it wasn't my cup of tea.
That is a bit how I felt watching the legal footwork in the motion practice in SCO v. IBM. It was extraordinary footwork to watch, not always in the implementation but certainly in the conception. They were willing to try anything, and there's a fascination in watching that. But I also felt what I can only call the ick factor. Do they really think *that* will work? I'd find myself thinking. SCO got its money's worth, though, for sure, and it's certainly a cryin' shame the money is almost gone, but the bottom line for me is, if I never see such footwork again, it's OK by me.