In the afternoon, Dr. SJ and I drove over to Jekyll Island, a quaint little place with some beautiful old houses and a pier with a place called “Rah Bar.” We thought it was either a cute name or a Georgian typo. As it turned out, it was both. We ordered clams on the half shell, which appeared cooked, and a plate of crawdads. We also ordered some libation.
As we sat there, discussing the relative virtues of Friedrich Nietzsche and quantum mechanics, an email came from a friend. He was a new lawyer, but not a young one. And he told a story of his frustration and empathy, about how a client was treated fairly by one judge, while another was burned. The idea that it was all so random, so pointless, was breaking his heart. He will remain nameless for now, but can out himself if he wants. I would recommend he keep his identity private, but that’s just me. Continue reading

