Hey Mitch! How’s your butt?

& The first news Yr’s Truly heard of Friday’s passing of Ruth Bader Ginsberg came from a lady of my acquaintance. She had just heard the news. A proud American of liberal persuasion, she was distraught at the prospects of the nomination to the Supreme Court of yet another conservative – doubtless not to be a judicial supporter of Pro Choice or progressive causes in general.

It is true: If it so happens that such a Senator as the slinking Ted Cruz of Texis, or the young emissary from the Dark Ages of Arkansas, Tom Cottonelle, would be awarded an abomination nomination (the possibilities have occupied the muses of the frantic tyrant in the White House) and if the sycophants of the Senate would anoint and balance a lifetime crown on yet another empty-head, democracy as we have known it would be bobbing at Niagara’s edge without a barrel.

You thought “Alien” was a scary movie?

But wait.

RBG — may she rest peacefully, revered, and honored through eternity — has chosen a good time to end her brave and stoic battle with the cancers that tried in vain to kill her since the beginning of this century. Knowing that the end was near, she left us with her final judicial order, disguised as a desire:

“My most fervent wish is that I will not be replaced before a new president is installed.”

Now we have it: The set piece slogan of the 2020 election. Not that we needed another knife fight in America these days, but here it is, and it didn’t take long. Mitch McConnell, the Senate’s Republican leader whose deranged thirst for power may equal that of his president’s, saw to that.

Almost immediately following news of RBG’s death, a flashmob of mourners gathered at the steps of the Supreme Court building in Washington. They began singing, softly… “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound…” Before the final strains had faded, McConnell had confirmed his intention to have “hypocrite” tattooed, for eternity, across his butt.

In complete reversal of his reasoning when he blocked Barack Obama’s nomination of a SCOTUS justice seven months before a national election (“too close,” he lied), he trumpeted that the Senate will vote on tRump’s next nominee, before the next president is to be sworn in — four months from now. Ironically, his announcement came on the first day of voting began in several states, the very day the election began. But Mitch doesn’t do irony. He does arrogance.

& Mitch really won’t need a tattoo. He’s already been bitten on the butt. There will be scars.

There’s the matter of women, overwhelmingly in favor of continued Supreme Court protection of the basic rock upon which rests their rights – the “pro choice” decision in the case of Roe v. Wade. They don’t need another high court vote to threaten Ruth Bader Ginsberg’s legacy of defending that decision. Might those women be even more energized to go to the polls and vote against the misogynist in the White House and his senatorial supporters? Might they feel scorned? Hell hath no fury, Mitch…

There’s the matter of a whole passel of Republican senators in precarious reelection races to maintain their seats, and Mitch’s mini-majority in the Senate.  Not an especially courageous crowd, will those senators jilt their jowly Kentucky Tempter in favor of Damsel Power, or will they remain in the Faustian phalanx of fart-sniffing foes of women’s rights? The devil gets his due, Mitch…

And, even if it so happens that another troglodyte gets a SCOTUS seat, there’s the matter of the possibility, moving toward probability, of a Democratic President and majorities of Democrats in the Senate and House — all of them fed up with Mitch McConnell’s fucking around with the courts. With Democratic majorities will come the very real possibilities of increased numbers of high court justices — from nine to 13?, or 17? — and of adding 70, even a hundred more federal judges, thereby diluting their political powers and marking the end to blatant, arrogant politicization of the American system of justice. Be careful what you wish for, Mitch…

From titanic struggles comes progress. Perhaps this time. Perhaps there will be a GoFundMe project to buy Band-Aids for Mitch’s butt.

& Joe Biden’s been telling us that he’s searching for the “soul of America.” The search should be for an answer to the question: Does America have a soul? That answer should come soon, with polling results from states where on-the-bubble Republican senators have agreed with McConnell’s decision to fast-track a right-wing replacement for the amazing Justice Ginsberg. If their poll numbers plummet – as they should – our national soul – whatever it is —  is alive and kicking. If the results are the other way around, the soul has departed; dust off your passport and buy a one-way boat ticket, out. You’ll find Yr’s Truly in a deck chair on the starboard side.

& Fervently wishing, with the soul of RBG, that America comes to its senses and orders replacement of its president in 45 days, I’m outta here.   

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