The problem with accusing others of overachieving is that you run the risk of sounding like (1) a condescending bastard and/or (2) an underachieving lay-about. I mean, I’m in law school, and I’m working my ass off, so I’m fairly certain I’m not a great example of the second. But I’m probably the former.
While all the morning talk(ing heads’) shows were focusing on last night’s self-congratulatory industry awards for excellence in the field of excellent filmmaking results, I’ve been catching up on Depression Watch 2009. As proof that law school irredeemably changes the way you think, I offer my train of thought.
I keep reading about the people in charge of investing all kinds of money into what the media continues to call “toxic assets” – securities that aren’t worth nearly what investors were betting they’d be worth. This bit from today’s New York Times struck me:
Like Socrates, I know that I know nothing. (Unlike Socrates, if someone hands me a Hemlock smoothie, I’ll probably pass.) But I do know how to create a corporation.
It’s actually a remarkably simple process: you get a person called an “incorporator” to sign a legal document called the Certificate of Incorporation which has some Magic Language (dictated by statute). You send the document off to the Secretary of State (of your state, not Ms. Clinton), and some clerk stamps the document, files it, and proceeds to do the same for the next ten thousand documents in the inbox.