A Legal Ethic

Although I’m not studying to become a professor, I wouldn’t consider myself the black sheep of the family.  My mom, dad, and sister—all undergraduate English majors—now teach some brand of literature, writing, or philosophy.  I, on the other hand, teach nothing, and my prospects in that direction don’t look too promising.  Of course, that’s only natural, because I don’t feel called to teach.  At least, not yet.  Instead, for the time being, I feel called to litigate.  In fact, I’m so confident that the law is where God wants me that, if I knew how genes worked, I might say it’s in my DNA.

What I cannot say so assertively is that the solutions to all of life’s ethical dilemmas are etched into my heart.  Let me be clear:  I almost always know the ethical course of action.  It’s the acting that doesn’t come easy.  I’ve probably said that going on a hundred times, and it’s becoming cliché, but I feel convicted every time I think about it.  Well, at least, I want to feel convicted.  I never want variety to supplant cliché when the cliché is actually worth remembering.

The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas

I just finished watching the movie, and like Ebert, I’m finding it impossible to write a substantive review without giving away the ending.

I’ll tell you my immediate reaction: I feel sick. I feel like throwing up.

The Dew on the Roses

A relative newcomer to the adult world where consequences really matter, I nevertheless feel justifiably frustrated with the current state of politics.

It’s hardly partisan to describe our president as fearless, even reckless. Although the latter quality carries with it a negative connotation — and, thus, many liberals will reject it outright as a fit description of their leader — it’s a natural consequence of humanity let loose. At times, it’s an apt description of each of us.