And Jesus said unto him, Why callest thou me good? none is good, save one, that is, God.
Scott Greenfield, in the course of trying to kick the ass of John Regan (aka Strike Lawyer, fka Atticus), opines:
Nuthouses are full of people who believe they are saviors, if only they can nail themselves to a cross. . . .
None is the gravest injustice ever, except perhaps the Holocaust.
In the same post Greenfield references an exchange he had in 2009 with Regan, then commenting under the handle “John R.,” on Greenfield’s blog. Coincidentally, back in 2009 I wrote a post here describing an earlier exchange between Greenfield and the same “John R.” on Greenfield’s blog.
I’ve been reading Lust for Justice: The Radical Life & Law of J. Tony Serra (2010), by Paulette Frankl. (Back in 2010 I nominated Serra “Most Admirable Living Lawyer.”) Somehow these excerpts from the book quoting Serra seem relevant to Greenfield’s attempted ass-kicking, or at least relevant to the theme of my last series of posts:
“My overwhelming ego probably is my central religious failing. Although I respect, intellectually, the concept of selflessness, I can interpret everything I do as an ego trip. For the most part, I seek high-publicity cases, and this is obviously to feed my need for publicity and self-aggrandizement. Even most of the free cases I do offer some kind of publicity factor, media attention, or psychological hedonism; they bestow upon me what I’m going to call self-centered, egocentric, egotistic, and selfish motivation.
. . .
“Even my old clothes and old cars and modest living habits are a way of gaining attention. They’re a way of saying, ‘I’ll be more humble than you. I’ll manifest a greater degree of humility. Therefore, look at me.’
. . .
“I brag about my past use of cocaine and methamphetamine, and I’ll brandish my marijuana smoking before the world. But down deep, I practice with the divided mentality of a drug addict.”
. . .
“Some of the saddest words ever spoken to me came from my ex who said, ‘You give more time to those weirdoes and crazies and drug addicts than you do to your family and me.’
“Yes, I court that dimension because I’m metaphysically sullied. In my opinion, that’s the greatest indictment that I can bring upon myself.”
. . .
“Going into law and dropping so many notches down to the warrior image meant giving up the particular grace I had, let’s say, for interpreting poetry and philosophy. I surrendered all of that. I’m now nothing but a semantic sword! For me it’s not demons but guilt, unfulfilled destiny, the path not chosen, that I mentally revisit. I chastise myself for not being purer or more perfect. I chastise myself for being intrigued by the world of sensation and sensorium, for living in the fast lane in the neon-light jungle, for courting the more vicious experiences of life, dropping into drugs and living at the edges of my sensations, encapsulating them as my universe.
“That’s all a fall from grace. . . .”
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I’ve not yet read the book on Serra. His self-assessment intrigues. I give him credit for owning the beam in his own eye. It is refreshing candor. I will be curious to see how R’s matter plays out.
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