JDs in
the Mist
by Liz Nevis
Feral
law-school graduates are a little-understood species. I undertook the project of observing a colony
of them in
The Tulgey Wood colony is composed of recent graduates from the twelfth-tier Slippery Slope College of Law. “The economy’s been sluggish,” explained Dean Haybee S. Corpus, “All the law firms only wanted to hire the top 10% of the class. The other 90% are useless for anything else. They wouldn’t even survive in fast-food jobs - they’d raise a regulatory stink every time a mouse tail or a used nose-ring turned up in a burger, which in some places is every other day or so. Moreover, our incoming enrollment would plummet if they got out and started complaining to the media. Nevertheless, even our emotionally hardened faculty and administration didn’t have the heart to have them ‘put down.’ Instead, we told them they were going to a graduation party, drove them out to the middle of the woods with a couple kegs of beer to tide them over, and let them go.”
As of this writing, the civil-litigation grads have sued twenty-five birds for scatological assault and battery, a bank of rain-clouds for false imprisonment, two snakes and four spiders for intentional infliction of emotional distress, and several trees for product liability - to wit, dangerously pointy pine cones. The environmental-law grads, by contrast, have directed their efforts against their fellow humans: every answer to a call of nature, they insist, requires an environmental impact statement with full consideration of all viable alternatives. The administrative-law grads are considering revising this rule to reduce hardship and conserve paper that could be used for tinder and wiping; they expect to propose an amendment after a notice-and-comment period of six months.
The patent-law grads have built clever and effective personal shelters, but won’t let anyone else copy them without compensation. The business-law grads are trying to negotiate licenses for the shelter designs, but the real-property grads have filed an ejectment action to quiet title in the shelters for themselves, and the land-use grads are demanding demolition of any shelters built without proper permits. Meanwhile, the criminal-law grads are petitioning for warrants to search the shelters for fugitive bears and racoons suspected of stealing food.
Oblivious
to their personal food and shelter needs, the constitutional-law grads continue
to embroil themselves in a days-long debate on whether
freedom from mosquito bites is a fundamental right. One faction insists that Schmerber v. California, holding that involuntary extraction of blood samples
from criminal suspects is an unconstitutional invasion of privacy, is, so to
speak, “on point.” The originalists in the group vigorously disagree, pointing out
that the Framers were almost certainly bitten repeatedly by the
Love has blossomed in the group, with its inevitable tragic consequences. A jilted paramour claims that his carving of his ex-sweetheart’s initials enclosed by a heart shape in a dilapidated picnic table is copyrighted, and therefore his successor cannot carve them anywhere else.
The animal-law students seem to be adjusting best. “I just won a contingency case,” bragged one as she gathered wood for a campfire. “Owl v. Coyote, over digestion rights to a squirrel. The owl was after it, and the coyote grabbed it. Well, obviously it was pure Pierson v. Post. Look,” she grinned, brandishing a long furry tail and attached hindquarters, “I got 40%!”
Although arguably a nuisance (because all they do is argue), the feral law grads in Tulgey Wood are obviously more a danger to themselves than to anyone else. Rehabilitation, not extermination, is the answer. Won’t you help?