Contemporary sculpturist comments on Ukraine war

Lakenen considers the war in Ukraine in this 2022 sculpture.

A couple of weeks ago, I visited artist Tom Lakenen's Lakenenland, a sculpture park in the Marquette area of Michigan's Upper Peninsula.

I'm a sucker for an outdoor art installation, and Lakenen's work does not disappoint. I only had a couple of hours, but I could have spent the day exploring the inviting woodsy trails.

Composed of "junk," Lakenen's art in its very existence speaks to capitalist materialism and environmental sustainability. About and even besides such themes, Lakenen has a lot to say, and much of it resonates with the ordinary American, especially in terms of economic frustrations. I could not help but notice that vehicles in the parking lot boasted bumper stickers of both "red" and "blue" American political extremes. But insofar as any visitors expressed outrage, it was along with the artist, not at him.

Lakenen is always adding new pieces. I was especially moved by his 2022 work on the war in Ukraine. Above and below, I share some images of that piece. I thank Tom Lakenen for sharing his art with visitors. All photos by RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0, with no claim to underlying sculptural works, presumed © Tom Lakenen.

Religious talk touches on Jewish law, legal writing

Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

On Sunday, I had the privilege of delivering the message at my home church, in Barrington, R.I., regarding Psalm 121.

Anyone is welcome to watch the service. (The message starts at about 14:30.) The photo I referenced, from Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, appears here, at left.

There is a bit to do with law. I talked about the Hebrew word shomer, which along with the related verb yishmar is used in some form six times in Psalm 121 to describe God as a watchman or guardian. The term has particular application in Jewish law, referring to the person who watches over the body of the deceased until burial, and to the person who is responsible for ensuring kosher standards in a kitchen.

Pictured Rocks is so named for images perceived
in the minerals and sediment. RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

I talked also about the merism, the literary device by which a writer cites two extremes to incorporate everything in between as well, or to two contrasting parts to refer to the whole. The merism is employed repeatedly in Psalm 121, for example in referring to the same "heaven and earth" described in Genesis 1:1.

Legal doublets, usually of historical origin, can be merisms. In the sermon, I used the examples of "cease and desist" and "aiding and abetting." But on further reflection, I don't think they're great examples, because the words are not so clearly contrasting. A better example would be "last will and testament," because the term once referred to two discrete documents, disposing of real and personal property, respectively. The merism thus signals that the instant document represents the whole of the testator's intentions.

Legal writers often are admonished to trim duplicative doublets, especially when the words are mere synonyms, lest they be misconstrued as narrowing specifics. But the imperative of clear and succinct writing sometimes should give way to the value in a term of art, which incorporates an established meaning, and in a true merism, which conveys the meaning of expansive entirety.

Teachable torts: Samsung satellite crash-lands in 'paradigm of reciprocity'

"Strict liability" in tort law is liability without fault.  That is, more precisely, it is liability without regard for fault.  Lawyers and social scientists have much debated the theoretical foundation and doctrinal justifications for strict liability.  After talking recently with a scholar-colleague in Honduras, I think strict liability may be on the rise in a new class of cases in Latin American environmental law.  Meanwhile, we use strict liability, in the United States, in certain classes of tort cases, such as when the defendant is a seller of a defective product, or the defendant was engaged in an "abnormally dangerous" activity, such as dynamiting.

Professor George Fletcher in 1972 posited one theoretical basis for strict liability as the "paradigm of reciprocity":

The general principle expressed in all of these situations governed by diverse doctrinal standards is that a victim has a right to recover for injuries caused by a risk greater in degree and different in order from those created by the victim and imposed on the defendant—in short, for injuries resulting from nonreciprocal risks. Cases of liability are those in which the defendant generates a disproportionate, excessive risk of harm, relative to the victim’s risk-creating activity. For example, a pilot or an airplane owner subjects those beneath the path of flight to nonreciprocal risks of harm.

The downed plane is the paradigmatic paradigm exemplar, albeit tragic.  But space news from a Michigan backyard, where no one was hurt, provides this week a happier occasion to consider the professor's proposal.