DEAD FOR A GYM BAG AND SOME DEODORANT

OESTERHOUDT STRIKES

Two days ago, a Manhattan lawyer dropped her gym bag onto subway tracks on the Upper East Side. She leaped down to fetch it. She had difficulty getting back onto the platform, then she panicked as a train came rushing into the station. Horrified witnesses froze. Some told her to lay between the rails so the train would pass over her. Most said nothing and just watched. The lawyer tried to press herself against the platform wall so the train would pass her. It didn't; the train squashed her.

Later, officials reported that the gym bag contained keys, a cellphone, gym clothes and some deodorant. See N.Y. Post, Panic on tracks doomed subway victim, March 13, 2010 at p. 5. It did not contain priceless diamonds or even confidential client files. There was absolutely no need to risk life to save it.

I recount this sad story because it represents yet another occasion on which my writing has foretold true events. Just last month, I penned a satire called "Some People are More Valuable Than Things They Drop on the Tracks." See http://reasoncommercejustice.blogspot.com/2010/02/some-people-are-more-valuable-than_01.html. In that piece, I analyzed the New York Transit System's admonishment never to chase dropped property onto subway tracks. I used satire to show that our society places disproportionate weight on property over human life. At the same time, I made my own perspective clear: That it is grotesque to assign monetary value to individual lives. Still, my own sarcasm now seems eerily macabre in light of this new incident: "Further, I understand that some customers might disregard their own safety if they drop something onto the tracks, such as an iPod or other relatively expensive object;" and "The bottom line is: Property is worth more than individual human beings."

I was trying to elicit uncomfortable laughter when I wrote those words. Anyone with a shred of compassion understands that property is petty compared to human life. Yet at the same time, it is incontestable that property wields immense influence over both our society and individual perspectives. All too often, property seems to mean more than life itself. My satire reflected on that sad truth. It dared to suggest that life was more important. Privately, I held out hope that people would respect their lives more than their property.

But my hopes fell on deaf ears. The Post story shows just how much property means to people, even in very small amounts. Here was a woman with a career--and ostensibly, something to live for--who disregarded her life to save some deodorant and gym clothes. Her property was more important to her than her existence. So she jumped after it, even as a train raced toward her. At that moment, she thought herself less valuable than her gym bag.

Perhaps there are alternative explanations. I can think of several. For starters, the Post article recounts that the victim was a "lawyer" who--according to neighbors--used to wander hallways and elevators in her apartment building "muttering to herself in a strange way." See N.Y. Post, Panic on tracks doomed subway victim, March 13, 2010 at p. 5. One neighbor even said she looked "distressed" and that she was "not 100 percent there."

Many functioning lawyers have latent mental problems. When I practiced law, I knew many "well-respected" attorneys who muttered to themselves in elevators, sighed loudly, grumbled in abject frustration and habitually balled their fists from stress. It is not an easy job. "Getting results" in court is not an exact science; in fact, it is not a science at all. There are no sure things in law practice. Lawyers live with biting uncertainty and deadlines every day. They live on a razor's edge; and they are surrounded by striving, ambitious, ruthless people at every turn. They make their living battling contentious people for money. It is an extraordinarily negative enterprise. Their success depends on chance as much as preparation. Everyone wants something from them: Clients, bosses, judges. Everyone wants results now and no one wants to wait. There is never enough time; and there is always something else to do. They live under the clock; and the clock does not forgive. In fact, no one forgives. It is a fretful, ulcerous existence. That is why it is no wonder that lawyers fall into alcoholism, drug abuse and mental illness at a far greater rate than the general population.

Lawyers on schedules are dangerously unpredictable creatures. You don't want to get in their way; they might do something impulsive. When they have somewhere to be, they get there at all costs, even if it means taking absurd chances with their own lives. I own recalled my uncomfortable days in law practice when I read the Post article. I remembered what stressed-out lawyers are like. My memories helped me understand why this poor woman jumped on the tracks: She was in a hurry; she was trying to squeeze in the gym during her busy day; she did not want to wait for help to get her bag because that would throw off her schedule; if she got behind schedule, she would have to make unpleasant phone calls to disappointed superiors; she wanted to get home before 9 PM; if she waited for help to get her bag, she would never finish her day; and she really wanted to finish her day on time.

On an impulse, she jumped onto the tracks. She did not want to wait. She did not want to make those phone calls. She did not want to fall behind schedule. So she took matters into her own hands and died for deodorant.

I am glad I don't practice law anymore. And no matter how much my satires presage reality, it really saddens me when they do. I am not proud of it.

In the end, it's hard to exaggerate anything to satirical effect. Reality always sees your bet, no matter how high you make it.

MOMENTS I'M NOT PROUD OF

A REFLECTION

We remember moments in life. It is hard to remember particular days, or even particular eras in our lives. But certain moments inscribe themselves in us with uncanny detail. I think that's interesting, because moments are much shorter than days or eras.

On the other hand, it makes sense that we remember moments because they are sensory. Memory is little more than "stored sense" that fades over time. In a particular moment, we see, hear, feel or taste particular things. Sometimes our senses leave an impression. Most times, they do not. After all, we need to sense to survive; we can't possibly remember every little thing we sense. No, we only remember moments that are, well, worth remembering.

I have a lot of really good memories. My good memories generally fall into two categories: Moments when I felt inwardly good about a situation without external recognition; and moments when I overcame some external obstacle or achieved some popular reward.

I can give examples. First, I remember a night in November 1994 when my best friend and I frolicked shirtless through a school field in rural Connecticut. No one was there but us. The moon was shining. We laughed and screamed all night. We fell in the grass and just looked up at the stars. I talked about whatever came in my head and everything I said just seemed to be right. It was unusually warm for that time of year. Then we got into my car and just went home.

That was a "good memory" that did not involve any external recognition. I remember the things I saw, heard and felt. No one else witnessed what my friend and I did that night; yet it remains a cherished memory. I did not win any accolades for it. I just remember feeling so, so good. And I can relate that feeling to the things I saw, heard and felt that night in 1994.

Second, I remember several days in January 2004, during my first year in law school. I had just taken my first law exams and I was extremely nervous. I felt as if my entire future depended on how I did on those tests. For the previous four months, I had worked harder than at any other time in my life to that point.

New York Law School published exam results through a computer system. Every day, I nervously logged in to my account to see whether they had posted my results. I had to type in an ID code to access my information. There was always a brief delay between the time I entered my code and the time the webpage came up. I always held my breath during that moment. I remember that my heart even raced. I remember that I perspired a lot then, too. I remember feeling droplets of sweat fall from the top of my armpit onto my side.

After about a week of nervous checking, I finally saw results. I had gotten mostly A's on my exams and wound up with a Grade Point Average of 3.79, which placed me in the Top 10 of my class of 400. I felt a bizarre mix of relief, exultation and new confidence. Professors and friends congratulated me after the yearly rankings went public. I relished my success. It felt really good. I had overcome a huge barrier and received external praise for it.

Unlike the nocturnal moment in the field with my boyhood friend, this was a "good memory" that depended exclusively on official judgments. It was still "good," but for entirely different reasons. And I remember it differently, too.

But I am not ashamed to admit that I remember bad experiences as much as I remember good ones. In fact, I think I have learned more about myself by reliving my less-than-heroic moments and understanding why they were so bad. Our failures defines us as much--if not more--than our successes. After all, just as we can succeed in many ways, so too can we fail in many ways. We can fail externally, as through school grades or critical condemnation for "poor work." Others can tell us we have failed to reach an "acceptable" standard, and that feels bad. Or we can fail internally, as when we lose our composure or sacrifice our beliefs. We don't need other people to tell us we've failed when we fail internally.

I have suffered both kinds of failure. But I find external failure much easier to bear than internal failure. After all, you can always blame your judge or your critic if you fail externally. Maybe they just didn't like you. Maybe the test was unfair. It's easier to justify external failure.

But you can't run from yourself: When you fail internally, you've failed to meet your own standards. And you can't point your finger at some test-grader or theater critic for that.

I'm far, far, far from perfect. I have failed so much in life. In most cases, I can move beyond my failures. But I never forget them. I try to learn from them. Still, they sting me when I recall them, especially when I failed myself.

Here's a moment I'm not proud of. Last October, my partner, Steve, went to the hospital after suffering an acute manic episode. For several weeks before that, his condition had steadily worsened. He did not sleep for 60 hours straight at one point. He constantly busied himself with "tasks;" he woke me from bed every 15 minutes every night to help him re-clean the apartment or find some random webpage. He drew up long, detailed lists every day and tried to accomplish every little thing on the list, like buying a gurtel at some far-away store he found on the internet. He became angry when he did not complete everything on the list each day. Then he became hostile and profligate. He picked fights with random people on the street. He spent thousands on useless things, like Christmas ornaments and big rolls of fancy platinum ribbons for Thank You cards.

By the time Steve went to the hospital, I was ready to strangle him. Yet this was the man I had loved for ten years. I could not believe I was feeling the way I was. But I was so exhausted and so emotionally battered that I just wanted relief; and it seemed the only way to find relief was to cast him off. I felt better when I recognized that he had a serious disease. I tried not to take his abuse personally. The words still hurt, though. I was happy that he got the medical attention he needed. I was even happier to get a three-week break alone to rebuild my mental constitution.

I remember feeling somewhat disappointed when the doctor called to tell me that Steve was ready to come home. I felt a swirling mix of fear, resentment, childish selfishness and fatigue. I did not want to endure the same problems that arose when Steve fell ill. I didn't want to be woken up again every 15 minutes. Plus, I felt as if I had just caught my breath after a grueling bout, and now I would have to grit my teeth and start fighting all over again. Still, I tried to put on my most positive face when I went to pick Steve up at the hospital. I could not deny that I still loved him. I thought: "Maybe he'll be better now." I allowed myself to hope, even though my overall mood was dark and frustrated.

Steve was in surprisingly good shape when I brought him home. His doctors had found the medication he needed to achieve emotional stability, and he was on the path to a "new normalcy." I was glad to see that. We even went out to lunch late that afternoon. Steve moved very slowly. His eyes looked exhausted and glazed over. He was heavily medicated. One medication made him drool and he had to wear a bib. I had to help him walk from place to place. He used a cane because he was unsteady on his feet. Naturally, all these things aroused my pity. Steve cut a pathetic picture now. It hurt me deeply.

And I still felt past resentments. My temper was short. I was in no mood for any additional challenges. But sure enough, while we walked home from the restaurant, a challenge arose. As we crossed 4th Avenue at 12th Street, we tried to hail a cab. When the cabbie saw Steve's cane, he made a dismissive gesture and said: "No, no, no," then drove off. That made me angry. It also cost us time; the light was about to change. Steve was too slow to make it across 4th Avenue before the oncoming traffic got a green signal. It was around 5 o'clock. As we passed in front of a guy on a motorcycle, the horns started blowing. The guy on the motorcycle rolled his eyes at me and Steve as if to say: "Get going, will you?"

It touched a nerve. I completely lost my temper. I stopped right in the middle of the street and said: "What the fuck are you looking at? Can't you see I'm trying to help this man?" In the meantime, Steve made his way to the other side of the street. But I stayed. My voice rose and my heart pounded hard. I continued yelling. I remember saying: "So you think you're special because you're wearing that fucking hat, huh?" As I stood there cursing, the traffic started moving at full speed all around me. I was so enraged that I did not even recognize how much danger I faced. The guy on the motorcycle didn't say a word. He just smiled at me and shook his head as if to say: "What a fucking nut." He drove right past me. Another guy in a car almost rolled over my right foot. I remember feeling the tire graze the front of my sneaker. I was too livid to comprehend what was going on.

Ultimately we got a cab and headed home. Steve told me that my voice changed and that my eyes had bulged while I was out yelling in the street. After a few minutes, the adrenaline passed from my body and I started to feel extremely bad about what had just happened. I felt that I had made a fool of myself. Steve just shook his head. I tried to explain that I lost my temper because I was upset that people were so insensitive about his condition. That was partially true; I was also just really angry about having him back in the house again. Thankfully, the subsequent weeks proved that anger moot; Steve never went manic again.

I recount that story because it's a moment I'm not proud of. I take pride in my reason. I like to feel that I can coolly handle any situation with dignity. But on that day in October 2009, I completely abandoned my reason and fell headlong into dangerous emotion. Make no mistake: I do not flee from emotion; in most situations, I even relish it. But extreme emotion is dangerous. It undermines everything. I felt uncontrollable rage that day. It was as if I stepped from my own skin and became a wild beast. In addition, I reproached myself for the petty selfishness I felt that whole day. I knew that selfishness fanned my underlying anger, and that anger exploded into fury. That was out of character for me. I failed myself.

Still, I learned a lot from that moment. I learned that human reason hangs by a thread. Despite all our claims to rational intelligence and equanimity, pressures can drive the human mind straight back to animal depths in an instant. It is just a question of circumstance, mood and stimulus. After all, we are but sensory creatures. Sense might lead to science and discovery. But it can also lead to wrath and destruction.

Having said all this, I can still find some justification for my outburst. I truly feel anger toward people who are callous about Steve. I won't deny that. I love Steve. He is handicapped; it is obvious. When people look at him funny or rush him on the street, it really bothers me. For the most part, he stays indoors now because he knows that he can't handle the barbarians outside.

Most people just don't understand. I can't expect them to, either. But that doesn't stop me from feeling anger about it. I wish I didn't. I'm not proud of it. Yet I can learn a lot about others--and myself--when I reflect on it.

WELCOME TO THE PROBLEM SHOP

A WORD FROM OUR SPONSORS

COME ON DOWN !!!!

By : Mr. G. William Elender, Chairman and Chief Executive Officer, The Problem Shop Cooperative Ltd. (a Delaware Corporation).

Isn't it about time that you stopped living a stress-free life? Haven't you had enough tranquility and happiness? Are you bored with contentment? Do your friends make you feel like an outcast because you don't have any problems? Do people ridicule you for having it too easy?

It's a New Year. It's your time to change. Here at the Problem Shop, you can complicate your life as much as you want for the lowest prices in town. No matter how much difficulty you want, we sell it. We offer convenient financing and easy-to-find retail locations. If you want a problem, look no further: Come to the Problem Shop TODAY!

Don't be afraid to get some problems. Many people think that it is smart to avoid problems. They are wrong. Problems make us stronger. They make us react more quickly to unfamiliar situations. And that sharpness translates into success in family, careers and money. Ask any successful man and he'll tell you the same thing: You need to face adversity before you make it to the top. Life is not a bowl of cherries. You need to have problems to really distinguish yourself.

We understand that it is difficult to know where to begin. Purchasing your first problem is a major life decision. You can't just rush into a problem, nor can you buy a problem that is too big. You need a problem to suit your needs and your personality. True, some people are born with problems. Some people have problems the moment they leave the womb, like deformed children. But not all of us can be so lucky. For those who need problems later in life, you can exercise your own judgment before deciding what problem you want. It's an individual choice. And we're here to help.

Before buying a problem, you must ask yourself what you hope to gain from it. Do you want to learn financial discipline? Do you want to make yourself into an honorable person? Do you want to understand others? Do you want to evolve as a person? Do you want to learn how to be kind or cruel? Every problem will shape you in ways you never thought possible. When choosing a problem, it's all in your hands. Our trained staff is ready to help you make the best choice for your needs--and your budget.

First-time problem buyers should start slow. Here at the Problem Shop, we want our customers to get only the problems they want--and only the problems they can handle. Although it would benefit us to sell you the biggest, most expensive problem on the shelf, we know it would not benefit you. In that light, we care about you. We do not want to sell heroin addiction, mental illness or terminal disease to a bright-faced young college student. Nor do we want to sell paraplegia to a 15-year-old. These are expensive problems. They are hard to handle. We would prefer to sell them to older folks who already have some experience dealing with problems.

So come on in for a free consultation. If you've never had a problem before, talk to us. We can offer you heartbreak following a kiddie crush for only $19.95. Or perhaps debt collection letters for a small bill, again for only $19.95. Parental abuse is a bit more expensive at $24.95, but you might learn more from a parent's fists than a debt collector's incessant phone calls. But that's why we are here: We are here to provide information to help you make the most intelligent decision you can about the problems you want in your life.

Once you've experimented with minor emotional and financial problems, you can graduate to more serious ones. Our "second-tier" problems will really build your character. Your friends will never ridicule you again if you purchase a home foreclosure for $49.95 or an eviction for $54.95. They might even have pity on you. If you are really feeling adventurous, you might even buy a moderately-severe health problem, such as Crohn's Disease, for just $59.99. Or you could try a serious emotional problem, such as divorce, starting at just $74.99. Acrimonious divorces--complete with court battles, custody fights, mutual recriminations, physical abuse and death threats--are more expensive; we recommend purchasing a simple divorce before experimenting with an acrimonious one.

We run the best problem retail outlet in town. We are so certain that our problems are better than our competitors' that we will match anyone's price. If you buy a stalker for $12.99 at any of our competitors' stores, we will match that price. PLUS we'll throw in an additional problem. With us, you will not just get a stalker for your money. You will get heartache following a child's death--a $9.99 value--ABSOLUTELY FREE. That's right, you heard it. ABSOLUTELY FREE. Here at the problem shop, we will not be undersold. We take problems seriously. To show you how much we care, we even GIVE AWAY free problems. We are committed to our customers.

At the Problem Shop, we not only offer the lowest prices. We also sell only top-quality problems. Sure, our competitors might sell bargain paternity suits for $49.99. But our paternity suits are much better. With us, you not only get the agony of court process, wage garnishment, arguments with your former lover and wrangling with police officers over money. You also get the added difficulty of having to prove that you are not the child's father--and failing in that quest. Our competitors offer simpler problems. Their paternity suit is too easy. With us, you get the basic problem PLUS emotional, financial and health complications. Who else can offer that? When you're buying a problem, you deserve all the little problems that come along with it. Don't settle for less.

So what are you waiting for? Haven't you had enough ease in your life? Step up to the plate and buy some problems. Be a man. Stop living for enjoyment and comfort. Show that you can handle adversity, too. Grow as a person, will you? Get off that couch and buy a debilitating accident for just $149.99. Show that you can get over the emotional turmoil that flows from losing a limb for just $159.99. Lose a parent for a special introductory price of only $99.99. Suffer unjust persecution and racial hatred for $199.99. Get some real problems and grow as a person.

No one will remember the guy who sits around in comfort. They will remember the guy who faced unimaginable difficulty and survived. If you act NOW we will even sell you a DOUBLE PROBLEM for one low price, such as our special Marital Betrayal/Homicide package or Sexual Dysfunction/Suicidal Depression combo.

Stop waiting. Buy some problems TODAY. Don't let our pricing scare you away. We offer competitive financing to all those who apply. There are no credit checks. There are no hidden fees. There are no contracts. There is no obligation. There is no "catch."

At the Problem Shop, we have a simple philosophy: Everyone who wants a problem should get one, regardless of their ability to pay. If you act NOW we will sweeten the deal even more. Starting TODAY, we offer zero-percent interest financing through 2014. That means you can buy sudden spousal disability with a lifetime homecare commitment TODAY for NO MONEY DOWN. No, you didn't imagine it. We meant what we said: NO MONEY DOWN. You won't owe us a dime for your problem until 2014. This is not a joke. Act TODAY and we'll even throw in a collector's edition coffee mug featuring the words "YOU THINK YOU GOT PROBLEMS?" ABSOLUTELY FREE (that's an $8.99 value).

So do yourself a favor. Start thinking about yourself for once. Don't be afraid. Come on down to the Problem Shop and pick out the problem that is right for you. Our friendly, professional sales team is ready to assist you. You can do so much with your life; we have a problem to match every lifestyle. It is never too early to complicate your existence. It is never too early to start worrying and suffering. Here at the Problem Shop, we can guide you in the right direction. We offer every imaginable life problem. If you want to be un-friended by a love interest on a dating website, we've got you covered. If you want to find out you have cancer, we've got you covered. You name the problem; we deliver.

At the Problem Shop, no problem is too little. We can sell it to you at an affordable price, every time. We even offer FREE SHIPPING!

Stop making excuses. Stop being happy. It's time for some problems. It's time for some challenges. You need adversity in your life. You want to grow as a person, don't you? And you want that free coffee mug, don't you?

THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF HEARTLESS FORTUNATE PRICKS COMMITTED TO SOLVING EVERYONE ELSE'S PROBLEMS WITH CONDESCENDING PLATITUDES AND RUDE QUIPS

POLITICAL PARTIES FOR A CHANGING WORLD

By : Mr. J. Curtis Hinckley, Official Party Spokesman; Ph. D., Yale University (Business Communications); Former Chairman, Conrad, Killrath & Wedgeworth, P.C., A Professional Corporation Serving Professional Corporations in Professional Matters Professionally; Member, The United States Guild of Tax Examiners; Crossword Puzzle Expert; Married; Real Estate Owner (free and clear of all liens and encumbrances); Senior Partner; South Florida Responsibility Association; Untroubled Man.

Some people have it. Some don't. Some people grew up in stable households with good parents. Others frittered away and went off track. Basically, some people have problems and can't move on.

It takes some skill and good fortune to achieve success in America. We are happy to say that we are both skillful and fortunate. We are successful men and women. We never faced life-threatening illnesses, financial misfortunes or even the occasional insult during childhood. Rather, we had it pretty easy all the way through: We got jobs, we advanced, we made money and here we are at the top of the heap. Our parents always helped us. And they didn't die until we were good and ready for them to.

Life is not that difficult as long as problems don't materialize. It takes stability to achieve success, and problems make stability impossible. For example, it's impossible to get good grades all the way through high school, college, professional school and beyond if your mother falls ill and no one can take care of her. And without good grades, you can kiss a good job goodbye. Stability is essential to success. Yet it's so easy to experience problems. But when you have your eyes on the prize, you can't let yourself get bogged down in illnesses, love affairs, obsessions or far-flung emotions. You need to focus in and get the job done.

As successful people who never experienced significant problems, we find it extremely tiresome to hear about people with problems. After all, we made it. We could really care less whether someone else makes it. And in most cases, we are quite certain that other people don't make it because they are just not smart enough to overcome their problems. For a long time, we simply kept to ourselves and enjoyed our success. But we've had enough listening to others whine about their troubles. That is why we came together to form the National Association of Heartless Fortunate Pricks Committed to Solving Everyone Else's Problems with Condescending Platitudes and Rude Quips. If people want to complain about difficulty in their lives, we are ready to help out with glib, dismissive, smug and mean offhand comments.

Look: We don't have anything to worry about. We pay our bills. We get along fine at our jobs. We have stable families. That gives us a unique insight into others' lives. When we see others with problems, we can sit back and identify what's wrong. Then we can pronounce a cursory judgment about what to do. True, not everyone can enjoy a problem-free life. But we are happy to lend our one-line wisdom to everyone who is doomed to struggle in this world.

Let us start with unemployed people who are looking for work. They say they have been searching for months. They say they attend job fairs and troll internet postings. They say they have circulated resumes to hundreds of potential employers. They say that no one is hiring. They say that they are even willing to work for lesser pay and no benefits. They say they can no longer collect State unemployment insurance. They don't know anyone who can find them a job. They are worried to death because they have families to feed and rent to pay.

We have a simple answer for job-seekers: "Get a job." We are Heartless Fortunate Pricks. We are not unemployed. It's too bad that you don't have a job. But hey, you just need to try harder. Just get up and get a job. It's not rocket science. You can do it if you try hard enough. If you've already been trying for over a year, well, sorry. Gotta dig a little deeper there, pal.

Frankly, we find all these complaints so tiresome. After all, we never had to worry about getting a job. We had jobs waiting for us from day one. It is inconceivable to us how a person could not have a job. That is why we say: Just go get a job, already. How hard can it be? For goodness sakes, just go do it.

Let us move on to people with health problems. Some people do not achieve success because they come down with some debilitating illness. Some people get cancer and give up on life. Some people develop mental disorders, like depression and anxiety. Others suffer horrible accidents that leave them paralyzed or maimed. Still others have chronic diabetes, HIV, liver problems, kidney difficulty and even carpal tunnel. No matter what ailment plagues them, their complaint is always the same: I can't achieve my goals because I am sick and I am in pain.

Sick? In pain? So what? Success comes to those who work at it, whether they are sick or not. As Heartless Fortunate Pricks, we have a platitude for these folks: "Keep your chin up." Sure, you might call that a dumb thing to say, but who really cares? We still have our houses and jobs while you're staring death in the face. We even get to have sex four times a week while you're bed-ridden and eating through a nose-tube. Too bad for you. Look, we're trying to help you out here. Just keep your chin up and you'll be fine. You've got nothing to worry about. And for all those people who say they are "depressed," we have something else to say: "It's all in your mind." We don't really understand what you're going through, but from our perspective it all looks pretty silly. Just pull yourself up by the bootstraps and get on with it.

We are healthy. We have really good lives. We don't feel pain every day, nor do we suffer from life-altering disabilities. We have all our limbs and we even urinate comfortably. We don't catch diseases and we are not about to die. We don't even know anyone who suffers from heart trouble. As Heartless Fortunate Pricks, we live in a contented world. That is why we are uniquely situated to pass judgment on your problems. We are pleased to offer you Rude Quips and Condescending Platitudes to help you make it through your adversity.

Next we consider people who claim that "family problems" make it hard for them to cope with everyday life. These problems include abusive husbands who browbeat and whip their wives every night with a belt. Or a mother who struggles to raise 10 mentally-handicapped children without a partner or an income. It might even include a child who grows up in a broken home surrounded by drugs, crime, violence and despair.

These folks say that they are "emotionally disturbed" because they have no "peace at home." Without peace at home, they cannot focus on schoolwork, careers or advancement. Put simply, because they do not have stable family lives, they cannot achieve success.

We have advice for people with "family troubles." To the wife with an abusive husband, we say: "Stand up to him and be tough." To the mother who struggles to raise 10 mentally-handicapped children without a partner or income, we say: "Hold the course; you'll make it." And to the child living in a broken home, we say: "Don't blame your family for your own shortcomings."

In all honesty, we find these "family problems" to be poor excuses for failure in life. Just because a husband abuses his wife does not excuse the wife from earning a living or winning a promotion. A strong woman can persevere through everything, even daily beatings. Success is there for the taking; strong people take it no matter what challenges they face. And just because a mother tries to raise "special needs" kids without an income does not entitle her to sympathy for failure in life. After all, she's healthy and strong. If she really had the desire, she could change diapers, buy clothes, clean the house, manage medications, take the kids to doctor visits during the week, commute, cook meals AND hold down four full-time jobs in two States.

What's stopping her? "I'm so stressed out," she wails. Bullshit. She's just flat-out lazy.

There's nothing wrong with our families. We've never dealt with violence or drug use in the home. We've never had to care for "special needs" kids or mentally-handicapped midgets. We have obedient wives, good kids and plenty of money to pay the bills. Everyone has health insurance in our house. Everyone follows a predictable daily schedule. We know how to live. We don't have "family problems," and they don't distract us from giving our all at work. That is why we simply do not understand how so many people can complain about their "family lives." From our perspective, they just need to dust themselves off and get a grip.

You can solve your problems. In America, it's your responsibility to manage your own life. If you can't hack it, that's your problem. Don't look to others for help. No one has an obligation to help his neighbor in this country. Still, although we are Heartless Fortunate Pricks, we are happy to provide Condescending Platitudes and Rude Quips to help you through your toughest times. We don't claim to understand your issues. But we are prepared to minimalize, trivialize and ridicule them for your own good.

So for the last time, we say to everyone who has problems in the world: "Just get out there, get up, get a job, work harder, move on, feel better and do it right."

Trust us. You'll be fine. There are plenty of people who have it worse than you. But we don't.

GOOD, BAD OR JUST SICK : WHY WE PUNISH CHOICE

AN ESSAY

Everyone loves hearing about crimes. We all have a dread fascination with our society’s lawbreakers. Sometimes we love to hate them. Other times, we rally around the accused, calling his prosecution “unjust.” In still other situations, we criticize the State for prosecuting someone because he is “not bad, just sick.” We express our condemnation for people who make conscious choices that revolt us. We express our approval for people who make conscious choices we deem correct. But we express sympathy for people who have mental difficulty making any conscious choice at all. Interestingly, the result in each case may be precisely the same. Yet our law and our judgment vary depending on the circumstances surrounding the actor’s choice.

Why is choice so important to the criminal law? To answer that question, we must first understand what the criminal law is. Like no other tradition in Anglo-American law, criminal law doctrine draws upon contemporary morality. Morality is not law. Morality simply states how most people in a society generally feel about particular conduct. In other words, morality codifies popular intuition about behavior and thought. Law, on the other hand, has nothing to do with feelings or intuition. Rather, law declares categorical rules of prohibition and permission. It establishes concrete guidelines and consequences for violations. Broadly stated, human reason creates law, not intuition. Yet in criminal matters, law takes on a moral dimension. The People act through their elected representatives to enshrine their moral understandings in law. The result: Criminal law.

Moral systems develop over centuries in every society. In the English tradition, morality developed hand in hand with Christian church dogma. In fact, English common law courts routinely charged defendants with “crime and sin” in the same indictment. Sins represented moral transgressions against God’s law, while crimes represented moral transgressions against Man’s law. Today, this connection may seem untenable. Yet history explains us far better than we like to think. Sin and crime are linked because both involve moral choices. A sinner chooses to do something that God forbids. Similarly, a criminal chooses to do something that the law forbids. What, then, is forbidden? Through law, men are free to forbid virtually anything. Today, there are constitutional limitations on a legislature’s power to forbid certain conduct. But traditionally—and this remains the case—legislatures forbid conduct that most people consider “abhorrent,” “disgusting,” “dangerous,” “revolting” or “unappetizing.” In other words, they forbid things they consider “immoral.” Morality orients itself according to the average man’s sense of outrage and disgust. Not surprisingly, the criminal law follows a similar paradigm. While law may generally follow reason, criminal law is a special case. It uses reason to establish its legal authority, but in substance, it enforces popular morality.

Criminal law punishes people for choosing to do forbidden things. Choice implies that a person faces an alternative between a good path and a bad path according to moral intuition. For example, when a boy walks into a store, he faces a choice: “I can buy some chewing gum or I can steal it. This is my moral choice. I know it is wrong to steal. If I choose to steal, it would be a ‘bad choice,’ because I learned from my earliest days that stealing is ‘bad.’ But if I choose to buy, I would make a ‘good choice.’ Therefore, I will make a good choice and buy the gum.” Here, the boy acts according to intuitive moral understanding. Those intuitive moral understandings find expression in the law. The two systems are identical. It is both criminal and immoral to steal. It is criminal because the criminal statute book literally outlaws stealing property belonging to another person. It is immoral because it is “disgusting and wrong” to deny other people their intuitive property rights.

Crime and immorality are consistent in the opposite situation, too. If the boy chooses to steal, he knows he made a wrong choice. He acted immorally. In the same stroke, he violated the criminal law. Here, however, we witness the criminal law’s intimate concern with moral choice. In proving the crime, the State must show not only that the boy behaved a certain way; it must also show that he had a “bad mind” when he did. It must prove that the boy took the gum. That is easy. Yet it also must prove that, at the moment he took the gum, he knew he did not own it and that he intended to steal it. In other words, the criminal law must prove that the boy had a “bad mind.” In so doing, the State not only proves the boy a criminal. It also holds him up to moral contempt. After all, when a jury hears proof about the boy’s behavior, it also hears about his thoughts, motivations, desires and ultimate “choice to do wrong.” That shows him to be immoral, as well as criminal. And people love to hate immoral choices, because morality is intuitive. You do not need a law degree to feel outrage about revolting choices. We know them when we see them. In this way, the criminal law not only satisfies the cold requirements of reason. It also satisfies the public lust for condemning bad choices. Put simply, the criminal law does far more than prove technical elements. It provides a platform for the public to express their outrage against people who make “the wrong choices.”

Choice means everything in the criminal law, just as it means everything in morality. Choice provides a justification upon which to feel righteous outrage against “lawbreakers” and “moral deviants.” If a person knows he makes a bad choice, he cannot complain when society condemns him. From a historical perspective, common law courts reserved their harshest condemnation for criminals who made “wicked” choices. The judges routinely debated punishment to match the level of “wickedness” inherent in the criminal’s choice. A less “wicked” choice mandated a lesser punishment than a “grievously wicked” one. Even the word “wicked” reveals the intimate connection between morality and criminal law. It is an archaic word that we associate with monsters, witches and primeval demons who plot evil. It is morally charged. By using the word “wicked,” common law judges simultaneously cast themselves both as moral watchmen and as detached legal technicians. The fact that punishment depends upon the “level of wickedness” inherent in any particular choice provides further support for the assertion that the criminal law draws its entire strength from popular morality.

Morality lends itself to righteous hatred. People with a keen moral sense do not hesitate to express their revulsion at individuals who violate moral standards. When those moral standards find expression in the criminal law, criminal trials provide a popular outlet for that righteous hatred. But again, only choice arouses moral hatred. For example, most people detest killing. Yet not all killing is immoral, and not all killing is criminal. Results, in other words, do not always determine moral or legal consequences. Just because someone dies at another person’s hands does not mean the killer is immoral or a criminal. Choice determines morality and criminality far more effectively than mere results. For example, if a driver kills a pedestrian while driving drunk, we say he is far less immoral than a man who calmly murders his wife to get her life insurance money. A man is somewhat immoral when he stabs a rival in a heated argument after a “sufficient provocation.” And we say a man is not immoral at all when he shoots a robber in his home.

On these examples, we see similar results: People killing other people. Yet morality condemns some killings more than others. The law, too, makes distinctions to match the moral feeling associated with each killing. A drunk driver makes a “bad choice” because he chooses to get into a car while drunk. An ordinarily prudent man knows that driving drunk creates extremely hazardous risks. Therein lies the bad choice; the drunk driver did not choose to deliberately kill the pedestrian. He simply chose to something that caused great risk to others. That choice is immoral, but not as immoral as choosing to kill your wife in order to get her insurance money. From a moral perspective, that choice arouses more popular disgust than choosing to drive drunk. It revolts us more. It shows us that the killer had financial motives in ending another person’s life. That is more shocking, outrageous and despicable—for one moral reason or another—than choosing to drive drunk. Morality assigns the distinctions based upon the intuitive feeling associated with each choice. And the law follows suit by punishing the more “wicked” choice more severely than the “less wicked” choice. The same reasoning applies to the man who wrathfully stabs his rival in an argument. It is immoral to intentionally strike another person dead, but according to popular morality, it is more “forgivable” when the killer is “beside himself” with rage. After all, we all have lost our tempers. We know that we do not think clearly when rage overcomes us. Our choices, then, are not “as bad” as they are when we think clearly. Again, we see choice as the sole basis upon which both law and morality draw distinctions.

Finally, we do not consider it immoral at all when a man shoots a robber in his home. Popular intuition tells us that preserving our own lives is so important that it entitles us to kill someone intent upon killing us. In these circumstances, there is nothing blameworthy or “disgusting” about killing another person when you must kill to live. The law responds in kind: It is no crime at all to kill someone in self-defense. This moral distinction may reveal a society’s values more than any other. The circumstances under which a society legally permits killing candidly demonstrate what a society holds dear. While many people would not argue that killing in self-defense is justifiable, what about killing unarmed trespassers? That is legal in Texas. Because the criminal law draws on moral sources, the Texas law—at the least—expresses the moral norms of the people who made it.

Criminal law, then, provides a forum in which the public can express measured moral outrage against all kinds of “bad choices.” Choice is the touchstone. We have no trouble labeling someone “morally bad” and a “criminal” if he makes a choice that arouses sufficient public disgust. In most cases, a “bad choice” leads to “bad results” and we have no problem taking revenge on criminals because their bad choices cause tangible damage. But what happens when damage flows from people who cannot make rational choices? In other words, what about the mentally ill or—to use a less delicate, 19th Century term—“the insane?” After all, the criminal law draws its strength from morality, and no one is immoral unless they make choices that violate intuitive moral standards. Mentally ill people, however, do not possess the same intuitive understandings as “average citizens.” They do not make “choices” in the same way as an “average man.” Unlike the boy in the store who faces an uncomplicated alternative between “good” and “bad” choices, a mentally ill person does not weigh moral paths. He follows totally different mentally processes, and they are not rational. To that extent, mental illness completely derails both the moral and legal justifications for punishment based on choice. If a person does not have capacity to “choose” as we understand it, the entire punishment rationale collapses. A mentally-ill person may cause as much damage as the cruelest sane murderer, but we do not revile him as “wicked.” Rather, we pity him for his “insanity.” We do not call him “bad;” we call him “sick.” Again, we see that the criminal law depends upon choice for its thematic consistency. It assumes that people can make rational decisions in life based upon intuitive moral understandings. When a person cannot make such decisions, it becomes entirely unjust to punish him because he "makes no choice."

But mentally-ill people pose dangers precisely because they cannot make rational decisions. They act on irrational impulses, which in turn create risks for people around them. The law recognizes this. When a mentally-ill person causes harm, the law steps in to incapacitate him, not punish him. In this sense, the criminal law does not express moral outrage. It simply performs a “utilitarian” function, namely, to protect the public from dangerous instrumentalities. The criminal law performs this function even if the criminal does make rational choices, but in the case of mental illness, incapacitation is the only alternative. There is no moral dimension to these legal functions. Nonetheless, when the law takes action against the mentally-ill, it still judges. It does not act as a moral judge, but rather as a judge of “normalcy” and “fitness to live in society.” In some sense, these judgments are even more pernicious and value-based than their moral counterparts.

Criminal law fascinates us because it has a uniquely public function. Few people care about individual civil disputes between private individuals. But everyone cares about trials against notorious lawbreakers and rascals. We devour crime literature and entertainment. We relish news stories about abominable crimes and their victims. We express popular contempt for nefarious suspects. We even pause to consider whether criminals are really “bad” or whether they are “sick.” We do all these things because criminal law is intertwined with society’s basic moral sense and because criminal cases proceed in the People’s name. Like few other legal fields, criminal law captures the public imagination. We feel that we play a role because criminals attack our values as a society. And when we feel under attack, we relish the opportunity to pronounce our moral judgments against the trespasser. That is just the way we are. The criminal law simply provides us an outlet for us to condemn or approve other people’s choices.