Journey into Hell

And just when people thought they truly knew or knew of the most twisted figures in all the history of the world, along came those sadistic few responsible for crafting the Colorado Bar exam. I’ve never been subject to the infamous rectal exam but I envision it is not dissimilar to the act of intellectual sodomy that is the bar exam.

If you want an idea what sitting for the damn thing is like wake up at 5am. Drink cold coffee, eat a stale doughnut, and find an antiseptic environment. Just pull up a chair at your table and do the New York Times crossword puzzle or sudoku or any other exercise designed to screw with the intellect. On Day 1, for your added pleasure, and to prepare you for the essay portion, go out to your driveway, have a family member or friend park the car on your head, do the crossword, and let the car sit there for 3 ½-4 hours. Then Day 2.

Repeat the morning ritual of bad coffee, doughnut, the whole smack. Go to your sterile environment and do the mental gymnastics of your choice. Now, every two minutes, get up, walk to the nearest door, open it, put your head in, grab the handle, and slam the door on your head. Repeat this EVERY two minutes one hundred times or for 3 ½ hours, which ever comes first. Take a 90 minute break for lunch then do it all over again. Break for lunch then repeat.

The following step must be followed on both days; for added atmosphere, find the one person with the harshest, shrillest voice you can find, have them stand behind you the entire time and scream, “You’re a dumbass! You’ll never pass! Give up now!” Now wait two months for the test scores.

And people wonder why attorneys are megalomaniacal or overtly uptight.

I truly wonder who writes these tests. They are the personification of pure evil. They have no reflection.

Here’s my vision of those responsible for putting fledgling attorneys through such rigor.

Imagine a dark room. The only light comes from two candles at either side of a stone alter at the end of the ominous space. On the alter appears to be a Black’s Law Dictionary, a copy of the United States Constitution, the Model Penal Code, and a sundry of other legal journals and treatises. Twelve figures clad in black robes with hoods obscuring their faces enter and form a semi-circle in front of the alter. The mysterious figures begin chanting in a foreign tongue, but the words Mammon and Baal can be easily recognized. The chanting grows to a fever pitch and a door behind the alter opens and out strolls a high priestess. She rounds the stone edifice and stands silently in front of the trappings of law. The chanting subsides and the priestess grabs the law dictionary and holds it high while she shouts an incantation in Latin. She repeats this with all the items on the table.

The room darkens and a faint hum is heard. Suddenly the air is violently torn apart and the Prince of Darkness himself now floats menacingly over the alter. This version of Satan is not the heavily muscled red devilish figure seen in the movie Legend or Hellboy but a more congenial and cerebral vision, perhaps Al Pacino in Devil’s Advocate.

“Ahhhhhhhh, my favorite time of year, bar exam time. Now, I’m a busy man so I’ll need help writing the questions.”

Beelzebub grabs the Model Penal Code and touches it to his forehead, ostensibly to channel the negative energy necessary to properly delegate such an important task. “Whom shall I choose? I need a natural fit to write criminal law multiple-choice questions and an essay. Hmmmmmmmmmm…I’ve got it…Hitler, you seem familiar with everything criminal. Have at it!”

The Devil grabs the Constitution and repeats the ritual. “Who knows conlaw? Ah yes, Richard Nixon, please come forth.” Nixon oozes out of the floor and the Devil hands him the Constitution. “You’ve seen this before. Make me proud.”

“Whom shall pen contracts questions?” The Devil pauses, and snatches a copy of the Uniform Commercial Code off the table, “I need someone who knows about deals gone wrong…anyone seen Faust? Hehehe, bet you’re feeling like a dumbass right about now. Here, let me see if you’ve learned anything.”

“I need a sufficiently dire soul to write some property questions…ohhhhhhh Genghis Khan, would you be a dear. After all, you did conquer more property than any body in history.”

“Now who has a keen grasp on evidence…it’s a toss up between Jeffrey Dahmer and Al Capone. Both are adept at concealing evidence, both in their idiosyncratic fashion, but who am I to judge. I’ll flip a coin…heads it’s Dahmer…get it, hah, I’m so clever. Tails! Capone, you rapscallion, knock ‘em dead.”

“Jeffrey, don’t go anywhere, I have a feeling you may yet have work to do.”

“Torts! I love when the old ladies and children die needlessly. Who’s twisted enough to think this shit up? Heh, perfect…would the Marquis de Sad please step this way. Man, I thought I was a hedonist. Make the body count and severed limbs really gruesome yet contemporary."

“Those who have been assigned the multiple choice please write an appropriate essay question, the more convoluted the better.”

“But wait, there’s more. I nearly forgot the Colorado state essay topics. There are so many but I can only pick four or five. Bah, I’ll have my minions craft these.”

“Corporations is intriguing. The name that comes immediately to mind is a recent addition to Hell and we’re darn pleased to welcome him…Ken Lay, you corporate charlatan, you’d be great at drafting a corporations question.”

“Charles Manson, will y…he’s not dead yet? Damn! OK, I need another familial figure to write about sticky divorces. Henry VIII, I assume you know matrimonial law and other areas of family law.”

“Now the complicated and horribly dry part…civil procedure. I think the Grand Inquisitor Torquemada knows a bit about procedure…not that he bothered to pay attention or afford the accused a chance but he has the traits necessary to pen a really good question…he’s ruthless, inquisitive, and a master of logistics.”

“Oh Mr. Dahmer, I’ve left you with a doozey. Please write me a truly juicy wills question. Just evoke the imagery of dozens of dead family members and the sticky mess their deaths leave behind. I’d have Anna Nicole write the wills portion but she ain’t in hell yet.”

“I’m tired now, I’ll assemble the test tomorrow. ‘Night kids!”

END SCENE

DISCLAIMER…The events depicted in this writing are purely fictitious. Any resemblance to real-life occurrences is purely coincidental.