I have made a few suggestions in the final exam assignment itself. Just as in preparing for any exam, I would use:

1) The podcast lectures

• Please skim the entire set of questions before answering.
• You must answer FIVE questions in this exam. You get to duck three questions.
• One key to answering these questions is identifying the area of media law that it involves. If you get the wrong area, you’re going to give a poor answer.
• Give a thorough answer for each question you choose to tackle. Your opinion should be supported by law and facts.
• Ideally, each answer would take the form of a memo to the news person asking the question. Eg.
To: Jane Smithfield
From: Your name
Re: Your question
1) Briefly recite the facts.
2) State the issue. Eg. This is a question of (libel law).
3) Brief the questioner on the state of the law in this particular aspect of this area. Eg. Montana law is pretty clear that…OR The Supreme Court has held, in Name of Case, Year, that… Your analysis should refer to leading cases in the area, and possibly the facts behind those cases. There may be significant minority or dissenting opinions that you’ll have to apprise your questioner of.
4) Apply the principles derived from these cases and/or tests or standards set by courts that decided those cases to the facts in the question.
5) State your conclusion in the form of advice. Eg. I would advise that you resist the subpoena…However, you should realize that...
• This is an open-book exam. You may refer to any and all materials in print or online, and to the podcasts of the class. As always, exercise discretion and judgment when using online materials.
• Please write your name and ID number on the top of each page.
• You must turn in your take-home exam in physical form, not by e-mail. Someone else can deliver it for you. But I WILL NOT ACCEPT LATE PAPERS. Good luck!

A Day in the Life...
As a freshly-minted UM graduate with a degree in journalism, you have landed your first journalism job, with the Missoula Times-Herald, a Web-based community news outlet. Your boss thinks you have a lot of promise and has also heard you took a really tough course in media law. All that's academic, so to speak, until one Monday from hell...

(1)

It's 6:30 a.m. The alarm rings. No, it's your cell, and the ringtone is..is... the editor, Jane Smithfield. You sit up.
 "Got a problem," she says. "Wonder if you can help me out."
Without waiting for an answer, she says, "Sheriff woke me up at 6. Damn fool thinks I'm a farmer. He says Tom--y'know, our new photog--showed up with his gear at 5:30 and said Ed, his deputy, told him he could go along with him when they bust speeders with their new detection gear on West Broadway. Sheriff told Tom he wouldn't let him go right away, but would put off the operation until he talked to me--and if he does go, he has to wear a bullet-proof vest from the Sheriff’s Department. Said they'd fit him out. Tom said he wants to do a feature on the sheriff's new digital speed gun and this would be a good way to catch the action. Maybe tweet some stuff. So, it sounds like it could be a good story, but you're the legal beagle. What's your advice? Write me a memo," she barks before hanging up.

(2)

No sooner has she hung up than a fellow reporter, Marlise, calls.
 "Hi, babe, D'ja get your coffee yet?"
 "No, Smithfield called me and had some problem. I haven't even had a shower yet," you say.
 "Well, get dressed, barfbag, and meet me at Break Espresso in 15 minutes. I've got something important to talk to you about."
She's waiting by the espresso machine, looking far too perky.
"Here, I got you your double latte. Let's sit down."
She stirs her mug. "Babe, I'm in trouble again." She's always skating on the edge.
"You remember that story I did on the city council about a month ago?"
"The one on the sewers or the one on the zoning regulations?--they're all so thrilling."
"No, the one where councilman Green got all mad after the meeting and went out in the hallway and called the council president and the mayor 'faggots,' 'liars,' 'criminals,' 'draft dodgers' and 'child molesters'! And we printed it word for word.”
"Yeah, that got the city editor up off his fat behind. I remember reading that one! But, I'm guessing you didn't win the Pulitzer for it. What's the problem?" you ask.
"Well, Fox, the mayor, has sued us for defamation! Remember, he lost in the next election and now he and his wife run this Pipestone Day Care place. Says his reputation was damaged! Can they really sue us? Now, if he'd said it in council chambers… But it was right after the meeting..."
"Sure, they can sue us," you say. "But can they win?"
"Put it in writing, babe," she says, dazzling you with a smile. "Love ya. Gotta run."

(3)

After a furious 45 minutes on your laptop at home, you do a power wash in the shower, get dressed, grab a PopTart and a Red Bull and head for the office.
 You're not even in the door when Brad the courts reporter catches up with you. He's ticked. You can tell, the way his glasses are sitting on his nose, and the way his long, skinny fingers are twitching.
"You know that murder trial that's going to start next week? The double shotgun murder of the two teens up by Seeley Lake? Well, the judge wants to order every one involved in the trial not to say anything to the press. Nettie, her lawyers, bailiffs, court reporters, everyone. Says he's concerned that the defendant, you know, Nettie, the grandmother, can't get a fair trial. Said he couldn't ban us from the courtroom, but he'd sure make it hard for us to say anything about this trial coming up. Can he do that? Isn't that against the First Amendment and the state constitution?"
"Well," you say, clearing your throat.
"Well," he says. "The judge has scheduled a hearing for 2 p.m. and wants to know our position. What's the law? Why would a gag order hurt our reporting of this trial? What if we get one of the lawyers to tell us stuff off the record? Do you think you can write something I can take to him?" Or should we just crowd-source this and see what our readers think?
"Lord no, Brad. I’ll take care of it."

(4)

You stumble into the newsroom, a giant migraine flashing and rumbling behind your eyeballs. Why did you have to be on the early shift this week? The city editor is already rolling toward you, jowls and beer belly bouncing.
"Hey, Marlise talk to you yet?"
"Yup."
"Did she tell you about the subpoena?"
"What subpoena?"
"She got a subpoena for a deposition in that case about the mayor. Boy, Fox’s lawyer works fast, I tell ya. He wants her to show up at his office tomorrow morning and answer questions and bring all her notes with her. Says he'll ask the judge, if she doesn't show up, to assume we have no case. But don't we have some laws in this state that prevent that sort of thing from happening? Aren’t there some court cases on this sort of thing?
"Sure," you answer. "But..."
"Shoot me a note, will ya..." He waddles off.
"Yeah, I'll shoot you all right," you murmur to yourself as you watch your Facebook page come up.

(5)

You flip quickly through the national and international news on the Internet. Same old, same old. Suicide bombers, stock market blues. Cozy deals. Sox are doing good, though. Then an item catches your eye: "Seattle man defends urine diet, denies blame in woman's death." Seems the man, Kumar Prasad, a well-known practicioner of Ayurvedic medicine, wrote a book outlining the benefits and techniques of a diet that involves fasting, only drinking one's own urine, along with water and papaya juice. A woman who bought the book and tried the diet died of renal failure and internal hemorrhaging. Her heirs are suing Prasad and the book publisher for wrongful death.
You feel someone behind you. It's the editorial writer, Fred Partridge.
"I'd be pissed, too, if that diet killed my wife," he says.
"What?"
"Sorry, bad pun. I was just passing by and I saw you were reading this too," he says. "Say, aren't you that media law hotshot we just hired? What do you know about this? Does that woman's family have a case? Can you give me some background? Aren't there some First Amendment issues involved? I'd like to write an editorial. Can you have something for me this afternoon?"
Without waiting for an answer, Partridge sails around the corner.

(6)

Phone rings. It's Jen Jameson from the local ABC station, the one that does newscasts from the Times-Herald newsroom every evening at 5. What does that beauty queen want now?
"Say, you know anything about indecency?"
"Yup. Plenty. You wanna do it or talk about it?"
"You’re not my type. Lissen, we've got a situation here. You know our weather guy, Barney?"
"You mean the guy who's always predicting partly sunny and it hails or snows? What, is he putting the moves on you?"
"Yeah, right. He was doing the 5 o’clock weather a few weeks ago and he dropped his earpiece and he muttered, ‘God-damn piece of shit.’ I mean, I swear you could barely hear it, and we used the same tape at 10 because he’d gone home sick. But some viewer down in Lolo got all heated up about it and complained to the FCC, and now they want to fine us like a million bucks! Can they do that?”
“Whew. That’ll put a hole in your budget. I'll send you a memo," you tell her. "Memo's my middle name."

(7)

In the lunch line at the pita joint around the corner, Sal the sports columnist sidles up to you. Somehow you know this isn't about gyro versus roast beef.
"Say, I just got this fantastic tip," says Sal. "It'll rock the state."
There goes lunch. Sal doesn't know from short.
You sit down at a booth, just the two of you.
"What if I told you Monty has AIDS?!"
"Monty? You mean the Griz mascot?"
"Yup. The guy who went to the Chicago Bulls," she says with a grin. " But do you know he's had AIDS for seven years, and he's done all this great work at football and basketball games and all kinds of appearances with sick kids and poor kids? Why, the guy's a hero in my book! I want to write a column, nominate him for some sort of award!"
"Uh, Sal, where'd you get this information?"
"I got this file in the mail from Jen Lootens, you know, the AIDS activist who's always faxing us stuff, and she said she got it in a plain envelope from some anonymous source, but it's detailed doctor's records and there's no doubt in my mind this is the guy! I've even done some checking on the side and he's our guy!"
"So you're going to out this guy."
"Yeah. What a great story. He's a hero, I tell you."
"Uh, Sal, see this pita wrapper?" You crumple it in your hand. "That's your ethics. Are you serious?"
"Couldn't be more serious. Whatever harm comes to him is more than overshadowed by a great public affection and admiration for this guy!"
"Well, ethics aside, Sal, you've got a few legal problems here."
"Like what?"
"Sal, I'll write it down for you, you greaseball."

(8)

You finally get a little time to work on your own stuff before heading home. You've just popped a cold one, and you're sitting there watching Sponge Bob Square Pants on your iPod when your cell rings. Bad thing about cells is you can’t rip the cord out of the wall. But you can see who’s calling, and it’s not good news.
"Peter March here."
It's that managing editor who scares the crap out of you.
"Y-yes, Mr. March, what can I do you for, I mean do for you?"
"I need your advice. Gloria Borgia just phoned me from Washington and she has one hell of a scoop."
Gloria’s your Washington bureau reporter and star investigative reporter. Tall, rangy brunette. Instincts of a cobra. Can’t write her way out of a paper bag.
"Gloria just came back from three weeks in Asia, and she has proof that that scary swine flu going around was developed by a secret lab in North Vietnam."
You want to ask him what he’s been smoking.
"She knows exactly how it was developed, by whom, how Kim Jong Il was planning to blackmail the U.S. with it, and how it escaped from the lab and now all hell’s about to break loose. Mexico was nothin’."
"OK. Did she find a cure for cancer while she was at it?"
"Don't be a wise ass, or I'll take your press pass away. As soon as we verify this, we're going to run it. But if the U.S. government gets wind of this, are they going to go to a judge to stop us?
"You're asking me to get inside AG Eric Holder’s mind? You don't even want to go there!"
"Well, he's the man. Is he gonna pull the plug on us or what?"
"Let me think about it, Mr. March. I'll get back to you."
"In the next half hour, right?"
No more cartoons today. You haul out your tired old laptop...

Good luck!