Certified Cutie-Patootie
Listen, in my heart, fundamentally, I’m just a chill guy, you know? I went to Yale, sure, but not in a lame, pretentious way, only because my pawpaw went there. I was honestly mostly just partying with the boys, you know? Tom, PJ, Squi, the rest of the crew. We used to call ourselves The Devil’s Triangle, and we were kind of the bad boys of Yale Law. As bad boys do, we also joined the real scoundrels of the American legal system — the Federalist Society. What a mistake! Those guys went to my boy Donny, and told him to appoint me to the Supreme Court. At the time I had thought, perfect: functionally unfireable, fun robes, no real responsibility. The Democrats were really fucking rude during the confirmation hearing, but whatever, I got through, didn’t even cry. But now here I am for life I guess, positively drowning in work. I’m supposed to be the fun personality hire. I bring a class clown kinda vibe sorely missing from legal conservativa, and I do it justice, no pun intended. That is my personal cross to bear, but much like Saint Peter, people expect too much from me. The good guys might have a 6–3 majority, which makes things easier, but my bud Sammy keeps writing these tedious opinions and asking me to “contribute” or “even just understand it” before I sign on. What a loser.
So I got this bright idea. After all, there’s nothing more bad boy and rebel than writing a concurrence. Other than dissenting, I guess, but that’s like a very woke, very liberal kind of thing, not bad boy at all No worries, I thought, I’ll take a night to thumb through the Constitution, scented candles around the bathtub, Coors Light firmly in hand, and let the creative process take me where it will. It’s only a concurring opinion. As a little rascal, I thought everyone would find this endearing.
Now I’ve been on this grind for a bit, and suddenly my dumbass interns tell me concurrences don’t technically set precedent, but other judges do read them. Oopsie, my bad. Turns out my b-dog Clare-bear, that scallywag, he’s been peppering in all the FedSoc classics, you know, “banning gay marriage and abortion” type gems, into his concurrences. He’s even started adding the real nerdy deep cuts like removing interracial marriage and anti-sodomy law protections, which kinda harshes my chill and scampish vibes. Normally I would always back up a bro doing his thing, but now the FedSoc guys are coming to me and telling me how I need to repay them for “saving me from obscurity” by helping “rescue” America from the “liberal menace.” They want me to start calling for banning the EPA, banning drinking and driving laws, and more! In my concurrences, in my creative outlet! I am right back where I started, expectations heavy on my gentle, unworked shoulders. What’s a silly scamp meant to do, having to work under these conditions?
