Combat Zone

Lawyer confuses distinction between law and justice

Tardy Marks was a promising young candidate for a partnership at Marks & Martians, her brother-in-law’s company, which has earned considerable renown for its dedication to “Eating A Lot of Cake.”

In fact, Judge Smithers was heard to comment, “Marks & Martians Yeeeeee! I love those dudes! Every time they come in for a pre-hearing briefing it’s like Cake Day in Court. I can practically smell the frosting from my office window.”

Now back to Marks. After earning a degree in law through Puget Sound’s now-defunct law program, she went on to fight for the rights of Disenfranchised Plants, more specifically weed, sativa, heroin, cocaine and rainbow pudding.

Wait, no that last one’s not right, that’s what I threw at Judge Smithers house last night after he let a perpetrator of LGBTQ-hate crimes walk.

Now that’s what I call just desserts!

“I just don’t think it’s fair that these Plants are considered to be second class citizens!” Marks said in 2003 over her fifth bowl of Plucky Charms/Crack Puffs.

Her assistant reported that she ordered the cavity-inducing combination in bulk as it was Marks’s preferred way of serving up justice—how cold? ICE COOOLLD!

In 2008, Marks championed the case Weed v. Enema of the State at the Wash. State supreme court.

Although the verdict was inconclusive, this was the case that put Marks on the map, and marked the start to the rest of her hot-shot career.

She went on to defend the plaintiffs in the cases Coke v. Pepsi, Do Heroin v. No Please Don’t, and the scandalously high profile Weed & Dubstep v. Party & Bulls*** v. The Kids Are Not All Right.

Her pro-bono work has ensured that a steady stream of disenfranchised plants continue to find their way in communities where there are few opportunities for employment.

Her formidable C.V. alone would have been enough to start her own firm, where she would have doubtlessly attracted the best and the brightest of law school graduates.

However, Tardy Marks recently came to the late realization that the very laws she was defending and trying to change have absolutely no relationship to the justice that should be served.

Her last defendant, whose name shall go unpublished because I was too lazy to get it, said, “I don’t get it either. Like, why shouldn’t I be able to go out and shoot my neighbor for stealing my private property?”

When asked to clarify what they meant by “private property,” the anonymous defendant did not mention their personal effects, their spouse, their two and a half dumbass progeny, their body—most Americans agree that we don’t have any problems protecting those things, amirite?

Nope, they said, “What I mean by “private property” is just a crapload of weedssss!”

But maybe this is a bad example. In any case, Tardy was not only hardly disturbed by the discrepancies between these weird rules that compel certain people to sell their integrity for some form of currency and what these weird rules actually mete out.

“I feel like ‘justice’ is just a buzzword these days. It’s like, we’ve been living so far up our butts since the Reagan administration and plastic water bottles and McDonald’s that we really have no idea what makes justice justice. I don’t know about you, but I haven’t been shot since 1996, and the guy wasn’t even convicted!”

“Well, you are a lawyer…”

Tardy snorted into her cereal. “You’re a journalist, what do you know?”

“Well I haven’t been shot since 1066, but I get what you mean,” I replied.

Tardy’s justice-seeking eyes grew wide. “Damn! What happened to that guy?”

I paused. “They moved into our house and made us speak French for 500+ years.”

Tardy waved her hand dismissively. Small pieces of Plucky Charms followed the gesture and landed on my nice new shoes. So I punched her. Just kidding! We’re still The Flail, a nice, family-friendly newspaper to snack on when you’re bored.

“In other words, I’m completely out-of-touch with the material circumstances and the systems that foster injustice, and oppress and punish the good people who do report crimes simply for reporting them—thus making it more difficult for the work-a-day paper pushers to ignore so when they decide they’re done doing their job at five they won’t lose their appetite at their nice dinner. There’s not a lot to be had from ignoring unpleasantness.”

I blinked. “What?”

Tardy rolled her eyes. “Just remember the bits about “material circumstances,” “injustice,” “cowardice,” “patriarchy,” “paper-pushers,” “five o’clock” and “ignoring unpleasantness.”

“Ok!” I exclaimed enthusiastically. “I gottit!—mats, cows, paddys, pp, five and ness. Although I think you meant the Loch Ness Monster.”

“Close enough.”