No, of course I don't mean these Supremes; to their judgement I would happily submit. I strongly suspect they would be more than just; they would find me guilty, guilty, guilty, and then let me off with a warning.
The Supremes I mean, of course, are those nine fancy-dress mountebanks in Washington: the Supremely Silly Court. I've been pondering all day why people insist on taking this institution so seriously, and wondering why it makes me so mad when they do.
Of course it's the last-ditch defense of the contemptible Democrats: Dems might appoint Dracula to the Court, but Republicans would appoint Cthulhu. Aieee!
But it goes deeper. This carefully cultivated fear of pantomime villains enrages me, in part at least, because it seems unmanly.
I realize this is a dated term, and of course we need to redefine it in a way that does justice to the manliness of women, generally so much greater -- if less demonstrative -- than the manliness of men.
Manliness in this gender-neutral sense might be defined as the capacity to be unafraid of your own shadow; to be undaunted by your own dark imaginings; to whistle boldly past a quiet and un-haunted graveyard.
It's unmanly to whine about the Supreme Court because the Supreme Court is an illusion; it's done with mirrors; the image in the mirror is simply the reflection of our own belief. The Supreme Court becomes supremely unthreatening once we recognize that it simply says what it's told to say. It has, as Jackson famously observed, no power to enforce.
Oh, of course, we have real enemies -- the people who control the cops and the soldier boys. If you want to be scared of anybody, be scared of them. But don't be scared of a Punch-and-Judy show that nine prosy hirelings in an overdecorated Elks Hall put on.
Fear of the Supreme Court reflects belief in the Supreme Court, and a corresponding refusal to understand how things really work.
Now why would anybody refuse to understand?
This is surely the heart of the matter.