I was caught in an intellectual feedback loop. I knew I'd been uniquely blessed with talents and opportunities such as would allow me to accomplish nearly anything I set my will to and yet I was stuck, possessed by the haunting desire to find the "one true path" which would fulfill my personal destiny and serve the common good of all humanity. Fortunately, I've gotten over it. I realized that my quest was simply a cruel trick that I had played on myself by formulating a question with no answer, or rather, a question with an answer in flux, constantly evolving and thereby constantly evading the specific logical description I so sorely desired. As I have come to realize, the path I was seeking is no more than the one I am presently on. Destiny is fulfilled and the common good is served by the simple act of consciously moving forward along my given path under wise counsel of the facts of past and present. To be sure, it is a consequence of being human to occasionally loose sight of one's path, but this is not the story of how I become lost. This is the story of how I found my way and saw that going to law school wasn't such a bad idea after all.

About a week ago I saw a documentary. Its subject was the issue of corporate media ownership and the consequences of such ownership on the processes of government. The film (Orwell Rolls in his Grave) is an exposition of how the contemporary corporate form is currently in the process of usurping the powers of government while simultaneously resisting the accountability that such powers would require in order for them to be exercised in a manner consistent with the essential rights of humanity. Previous to my viewing of this particular film I had already been engaged in a passive defiance of corporate powers, but my efforts were limited to an ill-conceived reduction in my personal rate of consumption. The negligible effects of this practice combined with an inadequate understanding of the object of my defiance only served to foster an inner sense of futility, which eventually manifested itself as a general atrophy of will. Quite a depressing state to be in, I know.

To my surprise, things began to change for the better when Orwell revealed some small but significant gaps in my understanding of the modern corporate form. The view afforded by this more fully developed understanding helped me to realize that there are some simple and effective steps one can take to effectively combat corporate power, for just as the destructive corporate form relies on the habits of consumption for its continued existence, so would a healthy alternative. Therefore, I have begun not only a systematic withdrawal of economic support from dysfunctional institutions, but also a transfer of this support to individuals who, by means of a conscious awareness of their actions are able to manage the production of goods and services with an inherent sense of responsibility for the implications of such production. The goal of this transfer of support is to encourage the market for goods and services produced in a healthy and sustainable manner by individuals and organizations that respond to the needs of actual people rather than to the goals of theoretical profit.

It is with this practical goal that my quixotic quest for the so-called "one true path" has come to a close. My idealism remains, of course, but hopefully it will remain in its proper place without any further attempts to insert itself inappropriately into the realm of practical endeavors. If I am so blessed, I may find myself playing a more prominent role in confronting the problems of corporate power, and I may even get to see an end to the silly rule that corporations can act as human persons under the law. But even if I don't achieve these loftier ends, I will still know in my heart that I have contributed my share to making the world a nice place to live.

Up until this point in my life, the fact that I am uniquely suited to the study of jurisprudence hasn't been the least bit interesting to me. I never thought of my education as training for a specific career, and I no more wanted to study law than I wanted to drive a truck or be a movie star. Therefore, my dip in grades towards the end of my term of study was not of much practical concern to me, nor was it very surprising as I was obviously loosing interest in the problems of philosophy and I knew that this lack of interest would hinder my ability to produce inspired academic work. But in spite of this lack of concern, the fact of my academic record soon came to be a burden on my pride and my conscience, and I became possessed by the desire to do something about it. I knew that the highly analytical nature of philosophical study at Berkeley had prepared me well for the challenging content of the LSAT, so in October of 2003 I took the exam and earned a score that I was happy with. Having achieved the desired closure to my studies, I began to concentrate my energies on independent scholarship and musical composition while working in various capacities from labor to accounting, all for my best friends' family business; a rapidly growing landscape construction firm. Whenever I was asked the common question, "What do you plan to do with your degree?” my answer was simply: "I have already done it." I chose to pursue my education for its own sake, and I specifically chose to study philosophy for its general applicability towards my wide range of interests both scholarly and otherwise, not for the eventual acquisition of some prominent position in a system that I deplored. However, as my understanding of this system developed I came to realize that as far as morality is concerned, one's position in the system is not nearly as important as what one does with the opportunities afforded by that position. The irony in a quest for the "one true path" was that the act of searching for this path was identical with a refusal to admit that I was already on it. By accepting my given path the act of participation was transformed from a source of guilt to a source of validation.

With the vitality afforded by this acceptance I strained to see what, if anything, I had neglected to admit during my time of blindness and what that might tell me about the road ahead. I noticed a couple of elephants in the room. One of them represented a prestigious degree in a field of study highly suited to the rigors of jurisprudence. The other represented a highly competitive score on the exam required for entrance into a school of law. Hard facts to ignore once duly noted. Looking back behind me, I saw the influence of my parents. I saw how their influence nurtured an instinctive understanding of the nature of language and truth, and what it means to play by the rules and play fair. I saw how they had ingrained in me an egalitarian respect for individuals by regularly squashing any undue sense of superiority or entitlement I might have harbored as a child. I saw how I had developed socially from these roots into an astute observer of humanity, unaffected by undue pretense. I saw how I could so easily see the world from a point of view compassionate to the outsider, and how truly unique this capacity is. In my opinion, these are some admirable traits for a practitioner of the law to possess.

It was in light of these facts that the corporate form changed from an indomitable beast to a respectable adversary worthy of my compassion. In abandoning my search for the one true path, I saw it more clearly than ever before. If it meant that I would be investing myself in the study of the jurisprudence along the way, so be it. The fact that I had come to this conclusion in the middle of application season made it seem all the more meant to be. So here I am in the Pasadena Library writing this letter to you. I got here on my bicycle, and I've got my mind on the lunch I made for myself of locally grown organics, purchased from those who turned the soil. If all goes well I'll get this application out by the end of the week. My conscience will be clear as I look to the future with hope.