making sense of a dysfunctional culture
Many of the people who read this site are pretty unhappy about Thursday’s Supreme Court ruling about ObamaCare, so let’s take a look a some cartoons poking fun of the health care proposal that most of us love to hate. We’ll start with a look at the potential future for some of us who aren’t inclined to follow the new law.
The U.S. Constitution is dead. We might disagree about when it died or what to do about it, but it’s time to admit that the piece of parchment that our civic religion taught us to revere is cold and dead.
The body of the Constitution is still trotted out from time to time. A few quaint parts — mostly a few among the Bill of Rights — that courts still want to pay attention to get some lip service. Other parts are blatantly ignored. Yet other parts are “reinterpreted” to mean whatever the people in power need them to mean. But the document itself as a whole — the meaning of the words as the writers and ratifiers understood them — is empty. It’s like some sick civic version of the bad old movie, “Weekend at Bernie’s.”
For many conservatives and libertarians, there is no more cherished political idea than that of “returning to the original meaning of the Constitution.” It’s time to be honest and blunt about this. It would make just as much sense to talk seriously about looking for dinosaurs today. They’re extinct. They’re not coming back. And neither is the actual meaning of the Constitution.
The fantasy of bringing back the Constitution in its actual meaning keeps being shot down, time after time, but people hopefully return to it like an abused wife returning to a husband who beats her. Those of us who believed a return to the Constitution could change everything keep being disappointed. The latest example was Thursday when the Supreme Court let the worst parts of ObamaCare stand.
When I was younger, one of my neighbors came over and said he had something important to talk about.
“I have good news,” he said as he waved a piece of paper. “I’ve just signed the neighborhood constitution. It’s going to keep you safe and free. You’re not going to have to worry about a thing, because I’m going to take care of you. Best of all, I’m protecting you against attacks from space aliens.”
I’d never considered the notion that I needed to worry about being attacked by space aliens, but the more I thought about it, well, it seemed like a good idea to have someone protect me from them. And Mr. Madison seemed so sincere, so I figured he must be right.
Not much changed at first. I went on living my life and kept to myself. Every now and then Mr. Madison would tell me that I needed to change something about my house or my yard, but it was no big deal. Mostly I was relieved because the aliens hadn’t attacked.
Mr. Madison couldn’t do all of the protecting and ordering himself, so he deputized members of his family to help out. He only appointed the best, of course, so they had my best interests at heart. That’s what they told me, anyway.
My drive to be perfect led to lack of compassion for self and others
If Ron Paul was ‘our last hope,’ what’s your backup plan now?
Reconciliation can start with the courage to make one phone call
In cold and dehumanized culture, many yearn to feel human again
Smart people will flee big cities before death, disease take over
One college senior explains financial facts to the Wall Street protesters
‘Metaverse’ future seems easy, but humans thrive on challenge
Democrats to Cory Booker: There’s no room for honesty in politics
We need loving communities so we can know, ‘You’re not alone’