Farce

In theatre, a farce is a comedy that aims at entertaining the audience through situations that are highly exaggerated, extravagant, and thus improbable. Farce is also characterized by physical humor, the use of deliberate absurdity or nonsense, and broadly stylized performances. Wikipedia

                                                               Farce

So, this is what it all boils down to. The Republican power structure in Washington has been drafted, perhaps unwittingly, to play a roll in a national farce.

Their Democratic counterparts, too, have been drafted to play in the national performance, but - since they are the minority - we can consider them bit players, waiting for a few brief moments in the spotlight.

Now, in an earlier performance, the rolls were reversed. There was even a really clever plot twist that actually changed the lead characters in mid-play. “What play?” you ask.

Well, we can call it anything you like. I have given it a working title “The Seating of the Supreme Court Justice, or How the Bench Turned Into a Hot Seat.”

Now, you can pick lots of dates for first performance. For me, it was Feb. 5, 1937, the day when President Franklin Roosevelt announced a plan to put up to 15 judges on the Supreme Court. He said it would make the court more efficient, but It didn’t happen. (I’ll include some details in a footnote - they are really interesting).

There have been other instances where nominating a Supreme Court Justice has led to high drama - Merritt Garland, Robert Bork and Clarence Thomas are recent actors in those dramas - but high court drama goes back nearly to the founding of our country.

That’s because the court is a real hotbed of controversy.

You hear a lot of talk on talk radio lately about one famous case, Marbury v. Madison, but not many people say what it really was. Chief Justice John Marshall ruled in 1803 - and it was a some ruling - that the Supreme Court could overturn a bill passed by Congress if it ruled that bill was unconstitutional. Wow.

                                                           Act  One

But back to our drama turned farce. Act One starts with a Democratic president looking to nominate a candidate for an open Supreme Court seat who could win approval from the members of his own party and from the Republican majority in Congress. Alas, it was not to be.

His search came up with a well-respected candidate, a man named Garland, who was so unpopular with Republicans that they refused to meet with him. No vote on confirmation either. It was, they said, payback for the attacks that derailed the efforts to put conservative jurist Robert Bork on the court more than 20 years before.

You need a long memory for that. Perhaps the first act could end (we are straying into opera here, but many operas are farces at heart) with the ghost of Bork reading his warning to the Senate after he was rejected: “Federal judges are not appointed to decide cases according to the latest opinion polls,” he said, adding that if judicial candidates “are treated as political candidates, the effect will be to erode public confidence and endanger the independence of the judiciary.”

If you get the music right, his mike could be slowly turned down, while the voice of another candidate comes up: “I like beer. I like beer. Beer is good. What kind of beer do you drink, Senator.”

The curtain comes down with a chorus of men and women - the Greek chorus of our farce - performing an oratorio: “Temperament, temperament...judi, judi, judi-ci-al tem-per-ment.

                                                               Act Two

The scene opens in a small, poorly-lit room. A tightly-focused spotlight is on a figure behind a desk, counting. He looks a little like Ebinezer Scrooge, but it is Mitch McConnell - leader of the Republicans in the Senate - counting votes for his candidate. And he can’t reach the number he wants.

“Forty-seven, Forty-eight, so far that’s great,” he sings. “Forty-eight, forty-nine, that’s really mighty fine. Wait, fifty may not come. And never fifty-one. I am undone. We’ve got to change the score, we’ve got nothing to deplore. Let’s just plow ahead and run, our schedule can’t be undone.”

Naturally, the Democrats in the Senate fall for a little trick. Farce, after all, is farce. He whispers in their ears (it’s a long scene, but we can condense it) that it’s time to take revenge. No room to be subtle in this, just hack and scream about anything, so that he can deny, deny, deny that they came up with a really poor candidate. “It’s beautiful,” he sings. “The more they’re right, the more I win. That he’s not on the bench will be a shame, bit I fixed it so they all get the blame.”

The second act closes when an orange-haired king walks on stage - well, a president dressed as a king - and loudly denounces as thieves and low-lives, losers and frauds all those Democrats who are attacking his candidate and trying to halt the nomination process. McConnell smiles. His plan has worked.

                                                              Act Three 

A lone Senator sits at his office desk, writing. It is more brightly lit. He works on his speech, while an orange glow on the wall behind him grows brighter and brighter. He doesn’t notice. “I’ve worked hard to be fair. My position has been here, then there. Now you think I may not care....but I do.”

“For all the women who have been, abused by nasty men, I feel sorry, now and then, but let’s be fair. Kavanaugh just wasn’t there. I Believe it. He’s a preppy, that is true. And I’ll stick with him like glue. For his values are so true. I believe it.”

The glow behind him changes, focusing down into a bright orange smile.

“Oh, the Democrats they’ll try. To make our good judge go bye-bye. Well I’ll be nice to them, and lie. They’ll believe it. Anyone who tries to stop, his appointment - I’ll call a cop. And denounce them as pig slop. I believe it. I believe it. I believe it.

The stage lights go out, the set is changed, and we are back in the Senate chamber where a vote has been taken to move Kavanaugh’s nomination to the full senate. Then McConnell announces  - with fanfare - that the full committee will vote to submit his name to the full Senate for consideration. There is joy, there is rejoicing. The Democrats are dejected.

And then Jeff Flake stands up, and in a deep voice, announces that the FBI investigation the Democrats had wanted will take place after all. Just a little week, he says. The Republicans start chanting “no, no,” and the Democrats start chanting “ho, ho”.  There is anger as the two sides chant at each other, and then a figure in front, who had been cloaked and quiet, stands up. It is Donald Trump.

“Stop your tears of woe. It’s only just to know. What happened long ago. I decree it. You say this is the worst, but listen to me first. A storm’s about to burst, and I won’t have it.

“Vote him in, or vote him out. I will make an angry shout, and tweet to people who are true that what you do is right to do. But the other side, I hear, has a vote that’s coming near. If you lose, it’s a disgrace, so we have to feed the base.”

“This poor judge is in the way, his career is sure in play, so to you I say good day.

Best of luck, to you, I pray. Let the FBI show us the way.

One last thing, because I’m tired, of this yelling and this mire. If the Judge you do not hire, just one word to you - you’re fired.”

Footnote  - When President Roosevelt decided to pack the Supreme Court, he was angry because  the court had struck down several key provisions of his New Deal aimed at bringing the nation back from the recession. He also wanted all judges to retire at 70 with full pay.

But before the President’s bill came up for a vote, two judges on the court switched sides, and the National Labor Relations Act and the Social Security Act were upheld. His plan to pack the court lost overwhelmingly in Congress, but FDR had other things going for him, and by 1942 all but two of the Supreme Court justices were his appointees.