Thursday, March 27, 2008

It's days like this that burn me, turn me inside out and learn me

Today as I skimmed the web pages of the New York Times and listened distantly to what my prof. was saying (something about "multiple stabbings" and "murder one") I realized that there is no passion in the law. There is no color in these cases, for law has no muse. The Law is museless. Instead, Law has a long-bearded and wrinkle-browed mascot who whispers truths (small "t") so faint you have to lean in and cup your ear. And even then, you can barely make sense of it—each truth has traveled so many years over so many distant lands, it all sounds foreign anyway. I have come to fear this man, because all the passion I had for writing and reading has been wrung from my eyes and fingertips. Law has made writing feel like algebra. Writing should feel more like grass or a hammock or a grassy hammock. Or a park bench, or a swimming pool, a Sunday dinner, or those soft chairs in the library atrium. It should not feel like algebra. But it does, except when it feels like Sudoku

Point is, today I heard a case where a man was attempting to thread some cables from his outdoor satellite dish to his TV so he shot two bullets into his house to save time on drilling two holes into the wall. The first bullet made it through the wall while alerting his wife who unwittingly bent down to examine the hole when the second bullet bore through.

I think what bothered me about this story was not whether the man should be convicted of negligent manslaughter or reckless indifference, but whether I should have to start my day out in a classroom that cares about that difference. And that's when I started reading the first chapters of best selling fiction on NYT.com. Because that's where I could read a story without worrying about whether person A should go to prison for 10 or 25 years. After all, person A was only avenging the life of brother B because villain C was jealous of brother B's success in company D. It's not real life, and therefore, it's a lot less likely to ruin your morning.