Generally, it’s bad to make fun of the deformed and to speak ill of the dead but exceptions are made for dead freaks like Mussolini, so where exactly is the line drawn?

For instance, when people seem more piggish than humanish, this does a disservice to the porcine species. Their faces stand out in my memory: a schizophrenic lawyer and a similarly afflicted professor of justice studies. Otherwise, alike in many ways. The lawyer, for instance, is an incorrigible thief, while the professor wouldn’t steal a pencil as a policy. If he  steps on your foot, he’d probably not notice it, while the lawyer would, and make an  insincere apology in her thing, cigarette stained voice.

And, while schizophrenia isn’t the element of their personalities that reminds me of pigs, it must be mentioned because their propensity for schizophrenia led them to lie. Many liars are talented people. It is the piggish quality that, when added to schizophrenia, creates a sort of malignancy, exemplified in both lawyer and professor, whose similarities of outlook, style, intellect, morality, ethics and  avarice made for an unusual story if their egos weren’t both so large, I can’t fit them together into the same story. Thankfully, their genetic trails are regressive and will die out. The relevant part of this story begins, not when I met them but when they met each other, which as you might expect, happened at a feeding trough.