Like virtually everything on Total Frat Move, take the following words with a massive grain of salt, and maybe some penicillin just to be on the safe side.
The best advice I ever got while preparing for the Law School Admission Test (LSAT) did not come from a hand-me-down Princeton Review prep book with penises of varying vascularity sketched into the margins. My best advice didn’t come from one of the many law school-bound degenerates before me who spent their weeknights wristing hockey pucks through the hazement windows. And it certainly didn’t come from Plan B money needlessly wasted on a KAPLAN course.
Strangely enough, the best LSAT advice that was ever bestowed upon me came from, of all places, a Peyton Manning joke that is buried in the Bill Simmons archive.
“I am in complete control of this offense. I prepare for games like no other quarterback in the NFL. I am in the best shape of my life. I have done everything I can to succeed…and I’m losing. Ohmigod. I’m not that good.”¬- Malcom Gladwell, discussing “The Manning Face.”
Swear to God. That quip about Captain Clutch might be the truest words that have ever been spoken about the exam that strikes fear into the hearts of so many of America’s future
Preparation can guide you to wonderful places in life, especially if it’s the Preparation H variety. You can spend hours breaking down game film, burying your head in a playbook, envisioning every scenario that the opposition could possibly throw at you. But in the end, you either have the testicular wherewithal to read a zone defense, or you don’t. There’s no in between during winning time. Nature versus nurture, Lodge. Nature always wins.
It sounds cocky. That’s because it is. Welcome to America.
As to the actual exam itself, there are three parts of the LSAT, each more mind-numbingly simple than the next.
Bill says something retarded about the weather. Tim calls Bill a liberal. You guess what the weather is like up Bill’s own gaping asshole.
Mike tapped into the Woodford a little early, and now a sorority J-Board executive must schedule the order of which sobbing, intoxicated freshman babies she must attend to.
- Amanda, Beth, Chrissy, Danielle, Elise, Holly, Jessica, and Kate must stop crying before the Valentine’s Day mixer is ruined.
- The J-Board executive only has enough cocaine to slip them once every 30 minute interval.
- Beth and Danielle can only rail lines consecutively, unless another girl makes a scene in the bathroom.
- Beth must fly Colombian White at an earlier time than Elise, because Elise said she looks like a slut in that sweater (She kind of does, though).
- Danielle has to powder her nose later than Holly, because Holly is giving rim jobs in the kitchen.
- If Holly isn’t the fourth to put a bump to her nose, then Amanda must go fourth, because she’s a bitch like that, I guess?
- Kate and Jessica cannot shut up and just overdose on blow consecutively, because otherwise their ovaries would start attracting bears to the bathroom stall.
Which of the following could be true?
A) Beth went first, because she was totally the most upset, seriously.
B) Danielle went fifth, because her 3% fat body is in no rush to look good in a bikini.
C) Holly went last, because she’s always fashionably late. Always.
D) Jessica went sixth, because OH MY GOD I’M BORING MYSELF PUTTING THIS SHIT TOGETHER.
E) Kate went third, because fuck you.
F) HAVEN’T ANY OF YOU HOMEWRECKERS SEEN WHAT HAPPENED TO AMY WINEHOUSE??
You go through the motions doing that for 5 hours. Afterward, you write some bullshit writing exercise, because really, if there’s one thing that law schools need, it’s more useless bullshit being spewed.
Which gets us back to the sham that is the LSAT. The LSAT is not the MCAT. I only started to study for the LSAT the night before. I could never do that with the med school exam. That’s why I have crazy respect for the MCAT crowd. Rather than playing “Where’s Waldo?” for an afternoon, the pre-med nerds who take that exam are applying what they have learned as underclassmen and are putting it to use in order to get into med school. And once they succeed on their exam, the Orgo dorks get to go to a school where you put that practicality to good use, instead of getting skull-fucked day in, day out by the monotony of the Uniform Commercial Code. Crazy concept.
In short, this is all you need to know for the LSAT: Bring an analog watch. Sketch out all of your problems. Don’t take Adderall the day of the exam, or you’ll get fixated on making your drawings look less like a Parkinson’s script sheet.
Most importantly, don’t waste your prime away in the study room like Fetushead Manning. When push comes to shove, if you simply don’t have what it takes, all that preparation gets you is a $2,000 course that ultimately teaches you one thing: “Ohmigod. I’m not that good.”