CSotD: 238 Years And Fading
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The Constitution turned 238 yesterday, including the first 10 amendments, aka “The Bill of Rights.”
In case you’ve forgotten, or went to a school that didn’t teach history, it was a struggle to come up with a governing document that everyone could agree with. There was a substantial debate in the newspapers between Founders who believed in a strong central government and those who feared a loss of individual rights, in lengthy letters now enshrined as the Federalist Papers and the Antifederalist Papers.
They’re not easy reading, but anyone who wants to run the government, either on the state or national level, should try, because these are the arguments through which the United States was formed.
However, part of the freedom enshrined in the Constitution is that we are permitted to elect people who couldn’t find the document with both hands, or, to use a more general expression, couldn’t pour water out of a boot if the instructions were printed on its heel.
It leaves us in a position where, for example, Bramhall suggests that the Attorney General of the United States should familiarize herself with the document using a dumbed-down version.
To be fair, while the Federalist and Antifederalist papers are rough going, one of the excellent attributes of the Constitution itself is that it is simple and straight-forward. You don’t have to be terribly bright in order to understand it, and nobody should be able to get through law school without having studied it.
We should assume, then, that Bramhall is being sarcastic and that Pam Bondi is familiar with the document, even if her recent statements suggest otherwise.
Perhaps she, too, was being sarcastic when she said “There’s free speech and then there’s hate speech,” and promised to go after people who said things she didn’t like.
Even arch-conservatives condemned this as counter to the First Amendment, and she was forced to admit having spoken in haste.
But Ohman suggests that Bondi’s employer feels the same way, so she may have been reflecting an official position. In the past, the Attorney General has been responsible for analyzing and interpreting the law, which memorably created a conflict for Jeff Sessions in the first Trump administration, forcing him to resign rather than adopt a pro-administration political stance.
Bondi, however, was appointed to back the President, who, as Ohman suggests, seems to interpret the Constitution according to his opinions rather than as it reads or has in the past been interpreted by the courts.
This is consistent with his interpreting other things according to his feelings, which allows him to declare a social movement a terrorist organization even though it’s not an actual organization, and promising legal ramifications for anyone funding this group that does not exist.
He might just as well demand Congress enact a law forbidding penguins to fly within 10 miles of the nation’s capital.
The problem is that, whatever the law has to say about the First Amendment and freedom of speech and of the press, people may still have to contend with enforcement of what the administration thinks the law ought to say.
That is, if masked, unidentified men throw you to the ground, beat you, put chains on you and confine you to a dank prison cell for several weeks, you may eventually be proven innocent, but that won’t erase what happened to you.
And as Rogers points out, even if you are well within the protection of the Constitution, people who disagree are still free to harass you and cost you your job, particularly since whatever the courts say can be appealed almost indefinitely and we’re also seeing cases in which a definitive legal decision is simply ignored.
Walters points out that death is final, and condemns cartoonists who post strong opinions, though I have seen no cartoons that declare murder — Kirk’s or anyone else’s — a good, or even acceptable, thing.
I’ve seen cartoons that question the sudden burst of praise for the murdered Kirk, but, for example, Marlette does not celebrate his death or even criticize his political positions.
Rather, his criticism is for what he sees as the administration’s lionizing of the man, comparing it to the propagandistic principles of the government in Orwell’s dystopian novel.
From Australia, Wilcox employs a different sort of satire, citing some of Kirk’s more controversial statements while mocking the opinion that he was not saying anything foolish or hateful.
One of the most frequent opinions I’ve heard from Kirk critics is that, rather than calling him names, it is more effective to just quote him accurately.
There are, of course, plenty of people who agree even with Kirk’s most outrageous opinions. The gamble lies in accepting that such people exist, but assuming the majority will be repelled by his statements.
Though I rather like this one from May, 2024:
Juxtaposition of the Day
The First Amendment is taking quite a beating, and the latest example is that Dear Leader has had the FCC intimidate ABC into shutting down a comedian for expressing opinions with which Trump does not agree.
Necessary suggests cowardice by ABC for agreeing to suspend Kimmel’s show over the jokes, but money talks, and freedom of the press belongs to those who own one.
Meanwhile Espinoza compares it to the kind of repression seen in Nazi Germany. That, however, is offensive and inaccurate and unfair and … oh, wait a minute …
In any case, you’ve been warned.
But wotthehell, you were warned several times, including in this tale from the island of Pianosa, which is long enough (the excerpt, not the island) that it’s serving today in place of our usual video.
To Captain Black, every officer who supported his Glorious Loyalty Oath Crusade was a competitor, and he planned and plotted twenty-four hours a day to keep one step ahead. He would stand second to none in his devotion to country. When other officers had followed his urging and introduced loyalty oaths of their own, he went them one better by making every son of a bitch who came to his intelligence tent sign two loyalty oaths, then three, then four; then he introduced the pledge of allegiance, and after that “The Star-Spangled Banner,” one chorus, two choruses, three choruses, four choruses. Each time Captain Black forged ahead of his competitors, he swung upon them scornfully for their failure to follow his example. Each time they followed his example, he retreated with concern and racked his brain for some new stratagem that would enable him to turn upon them scornfully again.
Without realizing how it had come about, the combat men in the squadron discovered themselves dominated by the administrators appointed to serve them. They were bullied, insulted, harassed and shoved about all day long by one after the other. When they voiced objection, Captain Black replied that people who were loyal would not mind signing all the loyalty oaths they had to. To anyone who questioned the effectiveness of the loyalty oaths, he replied that people who really did owe allegiance to their country would be proud to pledge it as often as he forced them to. And to anyone who questioned the morality, he replied that “The Star-Spangled Banner” was the greatest piece of music ever composed. The more loyalty oaths a person signed, the more loyal he was; to Captain Black it was as simple as that, and he had Corporal Kolodny sign hundreds with his name each day so that he could always prove he was more loyal than anyone else.
“The important thing is to keep them pledging,” he explained to his cohorts. “It doesn’t matter whether they mean it or not. That’s why they make little kids pledge allegiance even before they know what ‘pledge’ and ‘allegiance’ mean.”
Milo carefully said nothing when Major — de Coverley stepped into the mess hall with his fierce and austere dignity the day he returned and found his way blocked by a wall of officers waiting in line to sign loyalty oaths. At the far end of the food counter, a group of men who had arrived earlier were pledging allegiance to the flag, with trays of food balanced in one hand, in order to be allowed to take seats at the table. Already at the tables, a group that had arrived still earlier was singing “The Star-Spangled Banner” in order that they might use the salt and pepper and ketchup there.
The hubbub began to subside slowly as Major — de Coverley paused in the doorway with a frown of puzzled disapproval, as though viewing something bizarre. He started forward in a straight line, and the wall of officers before him parted like the Red Sea. Glancing neither left nor right, he strode indomitably up to the steam counter and, in a clear, full-bodied voice that was gruff with age and resonant with ancient eminence and authority, said:
“Gimme eat.”
Instead of eat, Corporal Snark gave Major — de Coverley a loyalty oath to sign. Major — de Coverley swept it away with mighty displeasure the moment he recognized what it was, his good eye flaring up blindingly with fiery disdain and his enormous old corrugated face darkening in mountainous wrath.
“Gimme eat, I said,” he ordered loudly in harsh tones that rumbled ominously through the silent tent like claps of distant thunder.
Corporal Snark turned pale and began to tremble. He glanced toward Milo pleadingly for guidance. For several terrible seconds there was not a sound. Then Milo nodded.
“Give him eat,” he said.
Corporal Snark began giving Major — de Coverley eat. Major — de Coverley turned from the counter with his tray full and came to a stop. His eyes fell on the groups of other officers gazing at him in mute appeal, and, with righteous belligerence, he roared:
“Give everybody eat!”
“Give everybody eat!” Milo echoed with joyful relief, and the Glorious Loyalty Oath Crusade came to an end.
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