This past week, I attended "Cato University," at the Rancho Bernardo Inn in San Diego, California. It featured lots of free liquor, pool time, cute college boys (yes, dear husband, I'm trying to get you mad enough to go to the conference with me next year), and gourmet food served at a vineyard. (Oh yeah, and there were also some lectures about stuff).
Presumably, live-blogging is the best way to describe what's going on at an event, but all 2 of my readers will have to deal with my post-conference round-up, which I'll do over the course of this week.
All in all, wherever you are on the libertarian spectrum (purist to bargainer, anarcho-capitalist to "rule of law" devotee), I highly recommend the conference as a way to learn from distinguished researchers and writers, get energized about pro-liberty causes, and argue at the bar about "policy, policy, policy" (a phrase, often invoked by the Cato scholar, Gene Healy, is intended to silence any taboo-trangressor who couldn't think of "normal person" stuff to talk about at a social event).
Honestly, all of the presentations were excellent, and I actually stayed awake and attentive during the six hours of lecture each day (take that, med school). I met lots of cool attendees, including a feisty German senior-citizen who outswam me at the pool, of whom another (almost) med-student called the biggest babe at the conference. I met a vet from WWII, another from the Korean War, and lots of docs, armed with pamphlets and position papers, whose life mission seemed to be steering me away from medicine. Since this week is my last week of sweet freedom before school starts again, I figured that, over the next few days, I'd post snippets and thoughts from some of the lectures.
If the presenters think I'm giving away too much of their lectures, please email me, and I'd be happy to take down some posts. Or you could read this, and perhaps forgive me.
I am a medical student in California. Disclaimer: I take patient privacy very seriously. When I talk about a 22-year-old, 5"5, 125 lb. African-American female with juvenile rheumatoid arthritis, please understand that my real patient might be a 65-year-old, 6"2, 220 lb. Caucasian patient with lung cancer. In other words, I have completely distorted the facts about my patients, and sometimes even completely made up stories. Additionally, I am not a licensed physician, and you should trust your grandma's shaman for medical advice before you trust this blog.