This is one of those meta posts, in response to angry emails sent me about why I’m such a horrible person. One lawyer wrote to condemn me for occasionally including my own war stories in posts while denying other lawyers the same opportunity.
Why are your stories more worthy than mine?
Well, they aren’t, but you’ve asked the wrong question. The problem isn’t that your stories are unworthy, but that this is my blog. Tell your stories all you want on your blog.
My story was directly on topic and added your beloved “illumination,” yet you deleted it.
Well, it wasn’t quite as on-topic or illuminating as you think, but that’s not really the issue. The issue is that every lawyer has war stories, and every lawyer loves telling their war stories. When we sit around in the bar after a hard day in court, we’re all raconteurs, regaling each other with the bizarre and the ridiculous. Oh, how lawyers love to tell stories.
But then, not all stories are really as good as we think they are, and they take up a lot of room on my blog, eat up bandwidth, and encourage every other lawyer to tell their stories to do the same. And some war stories are just awful, misleading, uninformative, scary bad and make people stupider. The tellers of such stories don’t think so, but I do.
And so we go back to my first point: it’s my blog, so if I think your story is just awful, then it is. At least here. You are free to disagree with me about this and everything else, but you are not free to do so here. Because this is my blog.
What would it hurt to allow others the courtesy you give yourself?
You see, this isn’t a private conversation between me and you, even though it seems that way in the quiet of your office, staring at your computer, thinking I’ll let Greenfield know what I think because I have very important things to tell him. But, even though you can’t see it, don’t know it, there are a bunch of other people in the room as well. And they can see what you write just as I can. So it’s not just about you. Or you and me.
Who do you think you are that you’re so special, your stories so wonderful, your insights so important, that they matter while mine do not?
I’m just the guy whose blog this is. No more. No less. Remember, you came here to me. I didn’t go to you. Heck, I have no clue who you are. If I’m nobody special, that’s fine, but then, what the hell are you doing here? Go spend your time with somebody special and stop wasting it with me.
And now to shift gears, there are the questions:
IANAL, but isn’t it true that…
This happens dozens of times a day. Once in a while, the question posed catches my interest, and I explain, but most of the time I toss the comment. It’s not that I can’t deal with your incisive question, or that I’m just a mean old man who refuses to answer your question.
First, most questions are “loaded,” based on fundamentally flawed premises, meaning that I have to explain the meaning of life from the beginning of time before addressing the ultimate point of the question. It’s too much effort. So many of you have an agenda that permeates your questions that undoing the inherent assumptions, the logical fallacies, the bias, the misunderstanding of law (often many misstatements piled one atop the other), is just an enormous hassle.
And it’s a bore for me. Sorry, but this isn’t a legal Q&A website. I’m not courting you in the hope that you might retain me. If anything, I’m chasing you the hell away. I have no interest in being your pundit, your guru, your lawyer. I don’t sell myself here, and that includes not playing the Answer Man to the great unwashed, whether to inform or for your amusement.
So every day, someone makes a demand of me here and I respond in a way that pisses someone off. And people ask me about how cool and wonderful it is to have a blog like SJ. Oh yeah, it’s a thrill a minute. And you guys are wearing me down and sucking all the fun out of this.