Law And More

Mass Shooters - FBI Might Study Their Minds

The difference between serial killers and mass shooters is this: Serial killers conduct the carnage in multiple events. And, in pop culture, the elite FBI team of TV fictional program "Criminal Minds" flies in to find that miscreant. 

Mass shooters like Adam Lanza in Newtown, Connecticut inflict the horror in one setting at one time.

For years, the FBI has been investigating the minds of serial killers. That's how the "Criminal Minds" BAU comes up with those profiles. 

Now, reports Zusha Elinson in The Wall Street Journal, there might be the same kind of digging into the minds of mass shooters.

And one wonders if the availability of guns in society has made the phenomenon of a mass shooting everyday in America.

What part does the heavy media coverage play? That makes it all too easy for the attention-craving to pile up more than their 15 minutes of fame.

Is it the stress of life in the 21st century what makes so human beings snap? 

Should quality mental health be more available at no cost?

And/or would it prevent mass shootings if rage management becomes part of the public school curriculum?

So many writers such as myself daydream about being able to develop relationships with convicted mass shooters, gaining access to what's inside. It's not so much to prevent future crimes as to try to understand this type of human being. After all, even though they have committed a horrific crime, they are human beings. We writers might be able to connect the dots in ways criminal experts and degreed psychologists cannot.

It might be a good idea for the FBI to put us writers on their research team. Here is my recent book, free to download, on the monsters of mind which take over unemployed older professionals. Could disappointment about success trigger, no pun intended, aberrant behavior? I already might be onto something.

I made those discoveries since I have been coaching seasoned professionals whose careers become stuck. The issue is: Why is it that the majority of disappointed professionals, here in American where extreme success is the unofficial religion, don't lash out as mass shooters? My hunch is that they continue to have hope of a comeback. Mass shooters have been unable to hold onto hope. 

Attention is the currency of the 21^st century. Jane Genova helps you get it for products, services, points of view, causes, branding, careers after-50, and college admission. Free consultation janegenova374@gmail.com

 

"The Fat Guy on Gold Coast of Connecticut" - Sudden Fiction by Jane Genova

Short Short Story - By Jane Genova

"A mean bully. Vindictive. But, not a killer."

That's how Horst Merkel's former administrative assistant sized up the man she had worked for 27 months.

She was Maria Carlucci. Who was questioning her was FBI agent Harry Houdini. That was his nickname. His birth one was John Smith IV.

 The latest murder victim on the Gold Coast of Connecticut had been a Superior Court Judge-Rebecca Blackstone.

One of Merkel's management-consulting clients had lost a case in front of her. Because of that development, the client stiffed Merkel's firm. 

The Blackstone killing and the three other murders all had the same MO. Knife wounds to head and the torso, followed after death by beheading.

Yes, a serial killer was on the loose.

"I quit not because Merkel scared me. Or even got to me. I would have put up with all that for the money. But he was cheap."

Houdini's magic came from his ability to pick up on what others couldn't. Consequently, he could help a community escape fear. The people of Greenwich, Darien, and Westport had passed from angst to hysteria.

"That's what I'm interested in. How cheap?"

Houdini milked that detail.

"He had me go to the Italian bakery in the Little Italy section of Bridgeport. The cannoli pie with excess almonds was $4.34 less there than around here. Then he blew up that I took too long."

Merkel was Roger Ailes/Chris Christie fat. In a region of lean fit professionals, that was his F__You signature. 

"He is an angry guy?"

Carlucci was silent.

Then came the "Yes and no. A lot of us who had once worked for him concluded the rage was theatrical, staged for intent. He was totally strategic, like Donald Trump."

With Merkel, Houdini was less direct.

What he wanted was for the guy to just talk too much. The guilty tend to do that. They try too hard to position and package themselves as being helpful.

"'Criminal Minds' has certainly given the FBI an amazing brand."

The Fat Guy chuckled. The guilty want to create bonds with law enforcement. It's a game. The guilty's downfall is their assumption they have the upper hand in the game.

When it came to discussing the first victim, Merkel's left eye twitched, just a bit. She had been the travel agent-Candy Waterfall-who hadn't worked hard enough to dig up the best deal for his business trip to China. Or, that's what others Houdini had interrogated claimed.

Perhaps struggling for street cred, Merkel did observe, "Candy had disappointed my firm. We were sorry to not to able to use her services again. As you know, travel agents have become dinos."

Within 185 minutes, Houdini had connected the dots.

His superiors agreed that they could legally issue a search warrant. 

It was a carpet knife. It was under the passenger floor pad in the Merkel's maintenance man's truck. 

Houdini got yet another promotion.

Carlucci was shook that she had the guy all wrong.

The Gold Coast of CT communally agreed that they knew it all the time: The Fat Guy had never fit in. That's what mattered in Greenwich, Darien, and Westport.

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"Increasingly Irrelevant" - Short Short Fiction By Jane Genova

SUDDEN FICTION - By Jane Genova

Creepy.

That's what Peter Cohen thought to himself.

There were cameras focused on him. And he was being relatively well paid to be the human camera in that home improvement store.

Had he still been employed as an associate in a mid-sized law firm, his mind might have still been in the business of conjuring up big words to sort through reality.

Redundant.

That's the term which he would have thought seven months ago when he assumed he was doing well.

After all, the store was paying him to reduce shrinkage. It didn't seem to make solid business sense to also invest in an elaborate artificial intelligence monitoring system. 

But, he had been wrong before, hadn't he. What he assumed about his value to the law firm was 100 percent wrong.

So, maybe, he was wrong in this current assessment of the retailer's decision-making. With fewer folks buying houses, there would be fewer purchasing the DIY tools, the lawn sprinklers, and then powder room vanities. So, no, the store couldn't afford additional shrinkage.

Perhaps the elaborate monitoring system did make sense. However, for him, the jury was still out.

The jury came in with a verdict on his day off.

I'm the one who doesn't make solid business sense.

That's what he thought to himself. He would be made irrelevant by the artificial intelligence. Currently, he was just a back-up while any blind spots in the monitoring were being re-coded.

Again, what he had assumed had been in error.

A fresh career path in loss prevention for someone with legal credentials had seemed so smart.

No, he wasn't ashamed to be seen on the floor of the store, in his uniform.

He had been proud of his lack of ego.

Just as in the old days, or as his grandfather had described, he had been willing to start from the bottom. 

His next try at a career he went about with less certitude and optimism.  Since the compensation was a lot higher, he still harbored a hunch he was cunning about navigating a work world in which work was disappearing.

Every late afternoon, he explained to high school juniors how the makers of the SAT "think." He figured he was indeed doing well. His supervisor had given him an extra session on Saturday mornings.

This is solid.

That's what he told a former law student buddy who was, as the cliche goes, between jobs. 

Do you want me to try to get you in?

That's what he asked. He knew and his friend knew he was showing off. 

The buddy had decided to get certification in teaching English as a Second Language. He had seen all those help-wanted about free housing and decent compensation for those kinds of jobs in China. Meanwhile, he was editing scholarly papers by Chinese linguists for publication in American journals. 

The buddy never alluded back to that offer when Peter found out he hadn't been selected to be an online instructor. 

What was needed online to engage students was very different from what cut it in-person.

That's what they told him. If he wanted, he could keep the Saturday in-person course.

Obviously, online was where the game was going.

Peter signed up for training in instruction-delivery. Part of the package was content strategy. He learned how to plan out the short modules, sprinkle in animation, and create engrossing quizzes.

Eventually he was promoted to Content Director of an online instruction firm specializing in environmental. His department won awards.

Abovethelaw interviewed him about his successful career transition. The editor at Entrepreneur demanded that when the firm was profiled, Peter would do a podcast. The firm scaled. The menu included courses in law for businesspeople and how to handle your own custody battle.

The stock price kept increasing after the IPO. Peter cashed out. 

Entrepreneur asked him why.

It's work that is increasingly irrelevant.

That's what he went on the record as saying. He had regained his sense of self enough to pontificate. 

Human beings can be relevant without work.

That's how he wrapped up the interview.

His network is monitoring the situation. Will Peter really be able to go on with his life without work? They are approaching that as a question. Surprisingly, they don't have the answer all lined up. It is possible that work is becoming increasingly irrelevant. 

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Even Female Law Partners Might Recall Their Jane Austin World Views

SHORT SHORT STORY BY JANE GENOVA 

JANE AUSTIN'S CLASS OF 1967

 

They were eager to please.

From the get-go they had been socialized to appear pleasant to both women and men. After all, the former could fix them up with their future husband.

Landing an engagement ring during the next four years they, the Class of 1967, knew was non-negotiable.

Since they were Catholics they were unlikely to take advantage of that disruptive technology: The Pill. So, marriage would not only guarantee social belonging and economic maintenance. It would also legitimize sexual behavior.

The most astute of the freshman, Mary Francis McCarthy, created immediate bonding with classmates by zeroing in on common ground.

From Cleveland, Ohio? Sure, Mary Francis knew several people from there. After all, the college was based in Western Pennsylvania.

Mary Francis had grown up in Harrisburg, PA. She had a firm fix on territorial connections. Like the lion's share of these women, she was first-generation college. Her family was making major sacrifices to equip her to enter the middle class.

Not so Machiavellian was Kathleen Boyle. All she had to offer was homemade fudge. It was kept in a tin, just like the long list of rules sent in that fat envelope last summer mandated.

Yet, it was Kathleen's lack of super sophistication which generated the largest network of contacts in the Class of 1967. And an engagement ring during the first semester of her junior year.

The nuns warned Kathleen, "Watch yourself." The same blunt advice came from her parents in Austintown, OH. Her father worked in the steel mill and not as an executive.

It had been decades since Jane Austin chronicled the absolute in society: Find a husband. Yet, it still was as embedded a social norm as the hygiene of eliminating waste for these women. Any of those thinking out of that box took on the protective coloring of a husband-hunter. That included masking high intelligence as well as fierce ambition.

By graduation, 72% were engaged. Two women were secretly married. Three were secretly pregnant and would have to pass on a graduate and professional school fellowships. Soon enough there would be their weddings. Even when the "Roe v. Wade" era dawned, their Catholic background would trigger weddings or the unwelcome event of another offspring. Yeah, even though they were heading toward 30.

The question at the five-year reunions would always get down to: Why did Sally Anne Maloney not catch a husband? It was no surprise fat Patricia Marie Agostino remained single. But Sally Anne should have had the pick of the litter. Such an entity would have been a dentist entering his father's practice in Pittsburgh, PA.

Time passed.

Those still determined to please others fell behind in all major categories, ranging from social status to professional accomplishments. Regarding the latter, women had to work or present a facade of doing so. Popular among the facades was compulsive volunteer activity. Annually they would receive certificates recognizing their selflessness. 

The world of the 21st century had turned folks brittle. Being nice was interpreted as being stupid. Didn't they find out how the game was rigged by the 1 percent?

Mary Francis was among those who couldn't shake that pre-women's liberation/pre-Crash of 2008 persona. Class members rolled their eyes when she emailed cheerleader-tone pleas for the biggest gift ever for the college. That institution of higher learning had become a coed university. The gift was to be presented at the reunion which would be the 50th anniversary of their graduation.

Mary Francis kept up the happy clappy talk. She showed up at the reunion in true Jane Austin style: Happily on the arm of the man she had married in 1968. He beamed. There was a moment of stunned silence. Adversity changes one. The Class of 1967 had been through the wringer.

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Undies in a Bunch about Rain, Snow? - Depends on Your Mindset (or if you are lawyers who know there are no snow days)

The Drudge Report's niche is politics. And, lately, the Daily Mail's has been violence, mostly quirky.

But both took a break from their signature topics. The headlines for both deal with weather.  And that's because that's the breaking news for 72 million people in America.

Here is the coverage from Drudge Report. It's restricted to catastrophic flooding in Northern There will also be heavy snowfall in some areas. The possible consequences sound biblical.

Here is the Daily Mail's more general article which zeroes on the 8 inches of snow in Greensboro, North Carolina and the closing of snowy I-91 in Connecticut because of a 25-car pile-up. In CT, the main highways are everything in transportation. When they shut-down so does so much else.

With the exception of CT, which is used to horrific weather events (remember Sandy!), the story is big because those areas affected by rain and snow are not the usual suspects. CA, as we know, has faced drought conditions. And NC is positioned and packaged as blessed with uneventful weather conditions.

Here in Eastern Ohio, weather is rarely news. When snow is forecasted, the shelves in the supermarkets aren't stripped bare. The stoicism is right out "American Gothic." This week there had been snow and frigid cold. So?

On the other hand, in Manhattan, which might receive about five inches of snow, many residents likely have their undies in a bunch. Restaurants hold their breathe about cancelled reservations. Shopkeepers feel cursed.

But lawyers in the Big Apple know there is no such thing as a now day. Or a holiday, for that matter. They will get the work out somehow.

Whether weather is a major story or not depends on the location's attitude about uncertainty and inconvenience.

Simplification, Tone of Authority, Wit. Those are the NOW communications work-horses. Contact Jane Genova for complimentary consultation for your advocacy/marketing communications (janegenova374@gmail.com).

 

Theranos Woes Increase - Investor List Accidentally Disclosed

Theranos is a distressed entity.

Its troubles range from criminal investigations by the feds to lawsuits by consumers and investors. So, if you had invested in it in its better days you probably don't want that known now. Well, buddy, you're out of luck.

Recently Theranos emailed a group letter to investors. Somehow whoever was in charge of that transmittal failed to use the BCC function. BCC indicates Blind Carbon Copy. That ensures that no one receiving the email is aware of anyone else's name who is also a recipient.

Well, without the BCC, every recipient knows the identity of all the other recipients. Those range from members of the Walton family who have big stakes in Walmart to Patriots owner Robert Kraft. Here is the coverage from Vanity Fair.

Of course, with this violation of their privacy they must be furious. That adds to Theranos' many woes.

The question on lots of minds these days is: Will Theranos file for bankruptcy to gain relief from the litigation?

The world has changed.  Contact Jane Genova for complimentary consultation to get the competitive edge in your marketing communications (janegenova374@gmail.com).

 

Rosie O'Donnell - Toast

Controversial Rosie O'Donnell might have set in play the beginning of her end as a public figure.

Everyone knows that the minor children of U.S. Presidents are off-limits. The media certainly left Chelsea Clinton alone in her teenage years. And there was no zeroing in on her during her father's Monicagate.

O'Donnell can't plead ignorance that she didn't know what she was doing when suggesting that First-Son-To-Be Barron Trump has autism.

And no one interprets her intrusion as concern. Barron's health and welfare are in the hands of his parents.

O'Donnell has no legal or ethical jurisdiction. Moreover, she is not a certified expert in the field. And, anyway, no certified expert who wants to stay employable would have made the statements O'Donnell did.

It's time O'Donnell exited public life. We have had enough of her unusual behavior. After all the traumas of the 21st century, ranging from 9/11 to Campaign 2016, we just want to live our little lives in peace and prosperity.

The world has changed.  Contact Jane Genova for complimentary consultation to get the competitive edge in your marketing communications (janegenova374@gmail.com).

Patricia Leary - ATL's Kathryn Rubino Provides Details of Black Lives Matter Controversy

 Now we know.

Insider Higher Ed, reports Kathryn Rubino at Abovethelaw, outed the writer of the anonymous viral memo on Black Lives Matter as Whittier law professor, Patricia Leary. Rubino provides copies of the anonymous student memo which prompted Leary to issue her own anonymous one which went viral. Here is that background.

This controversy was put in play when Leary wore on campus attire with the Black Lives Matter logo. Under her door she found anonymous communications framing that as inappropriate in a law school  The tone was: Hey, teacher, we are paying too much tuition money for you to add this distraction.

Her anonymous response essentially was that Black Lives Matter provides a opportunity for law students to learn. Yes, that's what has been called a "teachable moment."

What Rubino points out is: These are strange times. 

In these strange times, any public communication, even if anonymous, is subject to myriad interpretations. If the author is identified, some of the interpretations might endanger one's professional reputation. And perhaps even job security. At the least, the controversy eats at one's energy level. 

Can Leary stand up to all this attention internally at Whittier and from the media? What official position will the Law School take? Have the students been sucked into taking sides, leveraging their developing skills at argument?

In these strange times, some of us in blogging and in our little lives have attempted to avoid hot-button topics.

Society is on-edge. It wouldn't take much to be dragged into a media pile-on or real-life/real-time disputes which we can't navigate. Face it: It takes nerves of steel to be an activist.

The bottom line for so many of us in these strange times is that we have to continue to earn a living. We can't put in play what interferes with that.

The new economy has transformed the majority of so-called professionals into working stiffs. Here is my web presentation on that. 

Double Lives - 13 Partners, 1 Boy Scout

SUDDEN FICTION - By Jane Genova

There were 14 partners in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Of them in that law office only 1 wasn't leading a double life. He was the Boy Scout. That was his core competence.

So the partners really didn't fear that he would make it his business to get the goods on them and rat them out. But, still, they were wary. No lawyer wants an authentic Boy Scout around.

A double life keeps you hopping. So, most days the 13 partners didn't play out scenarios in which the Boy Scout was picking up clues about what they were up to.

Only on their bad days was there a chill down their spine that the Boy Scout, for instance, might want to have more checks and balances on clients' accounts. Or, horrors, he might, for their own good and the good of the firm, organize an intervention about their drinking. Also, he could be capable of the best of intentions and recommend they come out of the closet. The tragic murder of David Messerschmitt who, for some crazy reason stayed closeted, was sticky with the Boy Scout.

Those bad days were more frequent for them in the Pittsburgh office than they were for their colleagues in Manhattan and Los Angeles. They knew they were second-class citizens. Not only at their own law firm. But in the eyes of much of BigLaw. To get to where there was more action, they would have to pull off a smackdown in litigation. And most had already peaked. The only associates they could attract to Pittsburgh weren't the kind to develop any novel approaches.

As hard winter followed hard winter, the presence of the Boy Scout began to preoccupy the 13. An internal memo from two associates to all the partners had been leaked to Abovethelaw.com. It contained a plea for more mentoring. Typical of the Boy Scout, he had taken an unusual interest in the training and development of associates. He was the prime suspect for the leak.

With not enough billable hours at the Pittsburgh office, the 13 became anxiety-ridden about the next shoe to drop. The drunk kept picturing a professional intervention team from Hazelden parked in the conference room, waiting for him to return unduly gregarious post-lunch.

The 13 were on the money. Headquarters pounced. Some were given a chance to clean up their acts. Some were forced into resigning. The Boy Scout, his wife, and two teenagers love living in Manhattan. The stress-reduction initiative he started at the office was written up in The Wall Street Journal.

 

"The Eighth-Year Associate" - Hurt People Hurt

SUDDEN FICTION

The Eighth-Year Associate - By Jane Genova

The look was no-nonsense. It had an overlay of Puritan self-righteousness.

That was how the eighth-year associate took in the gestalt. Actually, the higher up informing him he was not making partner had presented the tragic news with compassion. And hope. “I want you to talk to the managing partner of a firm trying to establish a branch in Russia.” The partner added, “And you can stay here as long as you need.”

But, Boris, like so many lawyers, had never been programmed with the software to feel what others were. For him the gap came not from preferring the cerebral. Or from innate arrogance.

His childhood and teenage years in America had been totally isolated after his family migrated from Russia. No Fyodor Dostoyevsky type emerged, with a deep understanding of the human heart. His more outgoing sister, Natasha, had become a famous crime novelist. The niche was murders of passion.

Directly from the partner’s office, he went to the elevator bank, left the building and took the “L” back to his Chicago neighborhood.

“You can leave me if you want” was the way Boris announced this development to his Russian wife, Anna. Actually, that had been on her to-do list since he had begun compulsively studying in law school, then working at a major law firm. For the past two years she had been getting it on with Polish scientist at the University of Chicago. I will have to wait six or eight months, she thought to herself. Otherwise, right now, Boris will kill us.

For 56 days straight Boris clicked on the law firm’s website. He gawked for hours where his name had been removed. Anna didn’t dare ask what he planned to do next.

That next did arrive. It seemed to rally him. He organized an alumni group among all the other lawyers at that firm who hadn't made partner. Weekly they met in the Loop.  There were major celebrations when someone else was canned, a case was lost or PPP was down.

Through that network, Boris landed a plum document review contract. It paid higher than average because it required his Russian. No one liked him there. He bossed his peers around. Some suspected he was a snitch. But his linguistic ability was needed. He stayed.

If he could label emotions, he probably would have said he experienced relief when Anna divorced him. The alumni group had warned him this would happen. Few marriages could weather the associate’s not making partner. Peter, the alumni group wise man, continually commented, “Catastrophe changes everything. For everyone.”

When recruited for a lawyer job in an American firm expanding in Russia, Boris went. He demanded an accelerated review for partner. Weekly he kept in touch by SKYPE with the alumni group. Gently, Peter inserted tips on how Boris could begin to read social situations. Likely they weren’t heard. He bossed everyone around, including superiors. He ratted out mistakes to headquarters in America.

Boris was turned down for partner.

“Hurt people hurt,” mused Peter at an alumni meeting that wasn’t transmitted on SKYPE. He added, “Maybe that’s why none of us made partner. And why all of us became lawyers.”