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 The [[JC]] will spare you his usual Nietzschean quotes about [[military life]], apposite though they are: there is nothing quite like a good old “shoeing” at the bottom of the ruck every now and then to stouten a young attorney’s fibre. It builds a kind of resilience that moaning about your lot on [[LinkedIn]] never will.
-A better question is this: what sort of person regards ''any part'' of the big law military industrial complex — even it's fluffy downy underbelly — with even the tiniest twinge of affection or sympathy? Would you cuddle a polar bear?
+A better question is this: what sort of person regards ''any part'' of the big law military industrial complex — even its  most callow inductees — with even the tiniest twinge of affection or sympathy?
-What do you think happens to those cute little Kirkland & Ellis associates when they grow up? Have you not seen ''Stranger Things''?
+The same people who would cuddle polar bears. They don’t last long.
-This is not the Russian front. These poor little lambs were not conscripted, press-ganged, nor marched at gunpoint down to the recruitment office. They have spent some years clambering over each other to get that clerkship. They are motivated to this penury. It is part of their plan.
+For, really: what do you think ''happens'' to those cute little Kirkland & Ellis cubs when they grow up? Have you not seen ''Stranger Things''?
-Remember, these babes-in-arms are charged out, from the moment they put down their joss-sticks and hacky-sacks and throw on a suit, at ''five hundred bucks an hour''. And they know nothing. Their work is thus triple checked by some slightly older cherub who is paid nine-hundred bucks an hour and knows barely any more. You are paying an effective rate of sixteen hundred bucks an hour a kid you wouldn't trust to wash your car if he lived on your street.
+The Yale careers office is not the Russian front. These poor little lambs were not conscripted, press-ganged, nor marched at gunpoint down to the Latham & Watkins.
+To the contrary, these furry little padawans spent years clambering over each other to get that where they are. They are trained killers. They want the weak. They are motivated to this penury. Five years of trench warfare is part of their plan.
+And remember, these babes-in-arms — armed babies, at any rate —are charged out, from the moment they put down their joss-sticks and hacky-sacks and climb into the power-suit, at ''five hundred bucks an hour''. And they know nothing. Their work is thus triple checked by some slightly older cherub who is paid nine-hundred bucks an hour and knows barely any more. You are paying an effective rate of sixteen hundred bucks an hour a kid you wouldn't trust to wash your car if he lived on your street.
 And do these people not remember their own tutelage