This past week was the Law Revue Show, an undertaking near and dear to my heart-and an enterprise that is a bit different from most others here at GW Law.  That being the case, I'm doing something a little bit different with this week's column.  Rather than the usual tongue-in-cheek commentary, this time out I present a few reflections germane to both this column and the Law Revue Show: humor in law school.

To begin, it should be stated at the outset that there is no lack of humor at law school, if you look for it.  Just hang out at bar review for five minutes and you'll agree.  Consider, too, the fairly bizarre reversion to high school form we all experience here to some extent (prior to 1L year, the last time I kept my books in a locker was 1997).  That's pretty funny.

Generally speaking, however, there is a tendency to take ourselves awfully seriously here.  That makes a certain amount of sense, because in the grand scheme, the types of things we hope to do after law school are pretty high on the serious scale.  Moreover, the general law school setup encourages seriousness in that on any given day the stakes are quite high.  Sticking your neck out in class runs the risk of being branded a gunner or an idiot.  Not exerting maximum effort may very well undercut your chances of making a given skills board or journal.  To go a step further, much depends on the outcomes of such contests-to say nothing of the outcomes of exams-in terms of what job you'll get for your 1L or 2L summers or after your 3L year.  These are heady pressures, and pressure breeds a serious frame of mind.

There is no fault in being serious.  But there is a fault in being too serious.  We all-each and every one of us-need some humor from time to time to retain our humanity.  There are all sorts of theories of comedy floating around out there that emphasize this truth.  Call it a societal pressure valve, or catharsis, or release-it doesn't really matter.  We all need a good joke once in awhile.

Again, there's no shortage of humor around here.  But take a look back at that second paragraph a minute and you'll see a tone that most of us are guilty of adopting a lot.  That's me being funny, or at least trying to be funny (note too that I'm being tongue-in-cheek there, in direct contravention of my statement in my first paragraph.  How should a court construe two paragraphs so manifestly at odds?  We may never know, because I've neglected to provide a citizen suit provision).  But there's an edge to that humor.  It is tending towards what might be phrased "the humor of the complaint," something each of us are quite adept at.  We are nothing if we are not a people given to complaining.  It makes sense-we're pretty well all type A personalities, we have at least a decent amount of initiative, we're whip smart, and so we are quite attuned to finding flaws in other people, places, things, and ideas.  It doesn't mean we're bad people, or unpleasant people, or unfriendly people.  Quite the contrary, in fact.  GW Law is one of the warmer communities I've had the privilege to be a part of.  But let's be frank: we're given to complaining, often quite loudly, as are the members of virtually any post-secondary educational community.  As such, our humor is often somewhat on the snarky, snide, or embittered side.  I don't claim to be any exception there.

The Law Revue Show also trades in-and sometimes thrives on-the humor of the complaint.  But the Show in general-and, I think, this year's show in particular-also combines a lightheartedness with the usual barbs.  Given the Show's status as parody, there's inevitably an edge to it, but from year to year it also manages to strike a balance between that sort of humor and just being plain dumb funny.  I can cite examples, but if you've been to the Show, you know what I mean.

Even when the Show relies on the humor of the complaint, however, it continues to serve the vital function of inviting us all to laugh at-and, hopefully, with-ourselves.  It invites us to stop taking ourselves seriously all the time.  It invites us to avoid one-dimensionality.  It invites us to stay human.

As a parting word, I'd like to thank everyone who was involved in the Show this year from the bottom of my heart-it was the best Show (or, indeed, show) I've been a part of.  To those of you who came to the Show, you were the best audience in three years.

We've got a good thing going here at GW Law.