The Right to Remain Awesome
After fluffing around in an Arts degree in 2012, I finally abandoned the foolhardy idea that an English major will somehow make me employable, hung up my harem pants, tamed my dreadlocks (jkz that shit’s rank) and decided to buckle down and enrol in Law. However, little did I know that signing up for this course would earn me a one-way ticket to Judgement City, mostly centred around the premise that after five and a half years in a Law degree I will have sold my soul to Beelzebub and have my moral compass confiscated in the first year.
This led me to conclude that we are a persecuted people. Google ‘lawyer jokes’ and you get 3,210,000 results. Here’s a taste:
Q: What’s the difference between a female lawyer and a pitbull?
Q: Why did God invent lawyers?
A: So that real estate agents would have someone to look down on.
Q: What’s the difference between a jellyfish and a lawyer?
A: One’s a spineless, poisonous blob. The other is a form of sea life.
Q: What do dinosaurs and decent lawyers have in common?
A: They’re both extinct.
Q: What does a lawyer get when you give him Viagra?
Okay, the last one is funny but woah internet! That hurt. Firstly, I maintain that I want to become a Human Rights lawyer, becoming the Mother Theresa of the litigious/judicial sphere, possibly winning a few Nobel Prizes and write a memoir entitled ‘The Law and Me: My tireless crusade for the poor, and how I saved the world’. This is all in my five-year plan.
Secondly, when Poirot (or a similarly great TV detective) divulges the elaborate murder plot, prompting the villain to admit his crimes, I don’t think “Onya Poirot, one less scumbag on the streets of 1920s London”. Instead, I think: “No, you idiot! That was all circumstantial! Stay quiet and you’ll soon be free to kill again”. Ask yourselves: does this make me a bad person, or just a logical one?
Case in point: Marshall Erickson from How I Met Your Mother is a lawyer, and he’s a beautiful hunk of man. Although fictional, I think everyone would agree that this lawyer eats moral fibre for breakfast. In a good way; a way where he absorbs this moral fibre, making him even more of a spectacular human being. God I wish he were real.
Nevertheless, I say again: we are a persecuted people. I will fight for equality, godammit. We are a good and proud race, and if you say otherwise, my band of brothers and I will sue the ass of everyone for defamation. Sleep with one eye open, folks.
I’ll leave you with the urban dictionary definition of a lawyer:
“A person who knows about the law, the loopholes in the law, and the Constitution (the Constitution has no loopholes), and will use any and all of the above to get you out of whatever stupid ass mess that your stupid ass got you into. You will love this person, until you pay them, when you will hate them, but at least you will be out of jail, unless you lost. A lawyer typically is an unhappy looking nerd typing on a blackberry, unless they work for the government, in which case they are harder to pinpoint.
Marc: Look at that lawyer, he scares me shitless with his knowledge of the law and the Constitution.
Anne: What are you talking about, lawyers are just like us.
Marc: What are you, on drugs?
Anne: (Hours later, after coming off high) Yes, I was. The cops arrested me for possession. I have to call my lawyer now.”
Face it: y’all come running when the shit hits the fan.