I, too, am wildly impartial and I should be a Supreme Court Judge

The opinion of Judge Brett Kavanaugh, published in the Wall Street Journal last night, moved me. After all, he's a white lawyer, straight and middle aged, just like me. It's also a father, a son, a nephew, a cousin, probably a second cousin, maybe even a godfather or a Dutch uncle or something of the sort. And like me, he likes beer. No plebeian beer, I bet; just the right things. We have a lot in common.

Of course, I did not go to Yale, Harvard or Georgetown, and I barely passed the bar, but I feel close to the judge for a major reason: we are both extremely ferocious. In fact, I would go so far as to say (with all due respect) that I am even more impartial than Judge Kavanaugh. And it is my commitment to an extreme, non-partisan and militant impartiality that leads me to believe that I am at least equally qualified to serve on the Supreme Court. If Kavanaugh's nomination ends (and I do not mean to joke, even if I concede that it was an unfortunate choice of words in this context), or if, God forbid, another guardian of neutrality deist to the High Court should die or retire, I would accept the appointment of President Trump.

Now, I am not going to say that I deserve such an appointment – as I said above, I am not particularly hard-working nor brilliant, but it is my firm and obsessive impartiality that suits me perfectly. Take my family, for example. Of course, I like them a lot, but if they were caught in the law, I would not mind at all. From a demographic point of view, it is true that my daughter is unlikely to be sentenced to death for a crime she did not commit, or to be sentenced to life imprisonment. for something no sensible person would have declared illegal. But if that happened, or if my wife was to be victimized in the workplace, or killed by a dangerous product, or mutilated by the negligence of someone else, and neither my wife darling nor my wife. precious girl could not hope for a remedy because of the senseless monstrosity restrictions imposed on the law by the federal justice for decades, I would not be moved.

You see, I am a man of process; the results do not concern me at all. I have demonstrated this degree of near-pathological indifference throughout my career and I am proud of it. My job is a job like any other and I perform my duties with all the passion of a plate of unsalted parsley. I have clients jailed wrongly for more than ten years. I have represented workers who are victims of heinous discrimination at the workplace, for example a dismissed worker while his wife was on an operating table. I represent horribly neglected inmates, including a man who has to vomit for seven days without medical attention. Some of my clients have been subjected to odious police brutality, such as the grandmother who was mutilated by a SWAT team who entered the wrong house. Once, I represented a black client who eventually died as a result of his injuries after being beaten by police after being abducted by a white woman while he was on the phone with the 911 beggar for his life. None of these people were able to get real relief in court. Most of their affairs have been interrupted by judges who, like me, are stoic and unemotional observers of events in the universe.

You may think that after a career like mine, you may want to appeal to judges to correct some of the unfair injustices caused by such decisions. But no. I am burning under the fire of impartiality. I am able to discern the reasoning behind the opinions of jurists such as Kavanaugh, and that is all that matters. Admittedly, if we take a closer look, we could see patterns in which the poor, the vulnerable, the needy, the wounded or the accused are repeatedly chewed, swallowed, vomited, and then swallowed again by the miserable system of justice that federal courts have become. The work of a judge of the Supreme Court, if it is truly intended for greatness, should never be so thorough.

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There have been times – though I'm shy, to confess them for fear of being accused of bragging about it – that I've appeared in court on behalf of a client and that I am I presented no arguments. But it's the quintessence of what the law requires: nothing. After all, the law is the law, it clearly exists as the day in a perfect and unadorned state, and no advocate needs to explain it. "Read the law," I told the judge (who was probably expecting an earnest analysis in favor of my poor client) and the quick exit from the courtroom. Imagine the relief of his honor to see a lawyer so impartial that he refuses to take sides! There is no doubt that I would be a perfect associate.

The fact is that the law is the law, that it is cruel or kind, and nobody understands it better than me. Courts are not a place to take a position of principle on the issues of good and evil. We humans should not – and really can not – interfere with the machinations of the legal system to ensure that our own particular notions of "justice" are properly served. We can not be influenced by politics, statistics, public pressure, empathy, common sense or decency. This is true even if it means that innocent people often die without reward and that their blood calls us forever from the very ground on which we walk. No, we must not focus on the results, or even take them into account – the law must be about the process.

This philosophy has guided my laissez-faire career and will continue to guide me to the Supreme Court. I would not be a judge who is right or wrong. I would not be a favorable or unfavorable justice. I would be a pro forma justice.

If no position was to be filled soon, I would consider accepting a life appointment to a lower court.