our profiles, tailors his closing argument by quoting
novelists we know.
It's clear: This is not your father's democracy. And we're way beyond the black-and-white monkeyshine of the Scopes trial.
In "Notes Not Scribbled in Juror 6's
Steno Pad", McClung proves that flotsam and jetsam of everyday thinking can
rise out of consciousness to the occasion and become, together, a poetry of
small things. Dig it:
What is the purpose of a square root?
Alegria needs a new collar.
I can't believe all these high heels.
This trial's like a tunnel.
Pedicure -- payday.
RBG earrings -- Maeve's graduation.
If I'd gone to law school
I might have a backyard.
Who does he remind me of?
Jim worried about slipping
on the ice outside his courthouse.
I should tip 20%.
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