Well, it’s been a big day in jurisprudence, what with the failure of the California Supreme Court to overturn Proposition 8, and the nomination of Sonia Sotomayor to the United States Supreme Court. I’m still too irked about the former to comment, and not really qualified to remark on the latter. Fortunately, there’s no shortage of lawyers in Right Blogtopia to whom we might appeal for guidance and analysis, but they all seem to be hammering the same rhetorical points, in a manner that evokes an image of all Three Stooges attemping to simultaneously drive a single nail. So I thought I’d check in with a few wingnuts who come from different disciplines and professional backgrounds, in the hope of obtaining a fresh perspective. First up, we’ll consult with Dr. Melissa Clothier to learn how the nomination of the first Hispanic to the U.S. Supreme Court is affecting our nation’s osteopaths.
I’m Gay! I’m Hispanic! I’m Female! Meanwhile…..
So the Supreme Court of California upheld a law thus reinforcing the will of the people and that’s noteworthy only because the court has made such a consistent practice of making laws rather than interpreting them. There will be lawsuits. There will be outrage.
I don’t care.
Ah. I see I’ve come to the wrong person for commentary. Sorry to bother you.
So President Obama was utterly predictable and picked a Supreme Court nominee driven by identity politics that, SURPRISE!, helps him in his quest to mollify Hispanic voters since sweeping amnesty might be a tough sell since he’s also in bed with the unions–a triangulation that I’ve seen as a Democrat problem for quite some time.
Forget triangulation — you need a GPS just to find your way to the end of that sentence.
He was going to nominate a looney lib and she fits the bill quite nicely. It’s not about the law. It’s about me. Wheeeee!
Okay, enough for you, Doctor. I’m not handing your keys over until you sober up.
I don’t care.
It sounds like Dr. Melissa is suffering from the same condition that plagued young Johnny in .
North Korea flexing it’s mentally ill muscle and conducting a sophisticated display of weaponry as a sales job on Memorial Day while the President plays his fiddle, I mean, plays a round of golf–now that I care about. A lot.
That doesn’t really trouble me, but I am worried that secretly my chiropractor believes the brain is actually a muscle. Of course, the ability to think with one’s gluteus maximus would go a long way toward explaining the output of Jonah Goldberg.
Iran sending a fleet of ships out while while the President plays a round of golf–now that I care about. A lot.
Whereas I don’t care about that at all. Now watch this drive!
In the midst of this haggling, the world is on the edge of conflagration. Meanwhile, the president plays golf and issues weak statements. Who ever thought that a Supreme Court nominee could be a diversion but damn skippy if that’s not the case today.
I understand that you’re upset about golf, but I don’t see what good blaming the peanut butter will do.
When I look at the frenzy swirling around, I can’t help but to wonder about the confusion.
I’m afraid we’ve only got the swirling frenzy. Confusion’s on back order.
I fear that looking back, we’ll see the this time as a steady march toward chaos with the most important concerns ignored.
Don’t look now, but Swine Flu is spreading.
I don’t care.