After the untimely death of Antonin Scalia, it quickly became apparent that President Obama was about to break the noble American tradition of not nominating a new Supreme Court justice in an election year.  Oh, wait a minute, there is no such tradition and it’s been done about, oh, eight times.  Welcome to an election year that just got a major dose of crazy-politics steroids.  Scalia’s body was hardly cold and people were already going nuts and fabricating bogus “rules” out of thin air.

Besides all the conspiracy theories about Scalia’s death, I am baffled by the speed at which the Republican leadership started condemning Obama for even letting the word “nominate” enter his brain.  Aren’t these the same guys who are always calling for us to not politicize mass shootings until the bodies are at least in the ground?  

Picking a Supreme Court justice is naturally a political act (and Democrats will of course politicize this as well) but conservatives are tripping over themselves to prevent Obama from doing what a president is supposed to do.  Sorry, it’s his job.  Bonus conspiracy theory fodder I came across today: the owner of the Texas resort where Scalia died owns a company that makes parts for . . . hearses.  Enjoy the cartoon, and remember, you can help support my work and go behind the scenes here!


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What's more worrying are those who undermine people with disabilities from behind a veneer of politeness.

It will be good to put all this uncivil discourse behind us.

By Wendell Berry

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more 
of everything ready made. Be afraid 
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery 
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card 
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something 
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know. 
So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord. 
Love the world. Work for nothing. 
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it. 
Denounce the government and embrace 
the flag. Hope to live in that free 
republic for which it stands. 
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man 
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers. 
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.

Say that the leaves are harvested 
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus 
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion—put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come. 
Expect the end of the world. Laugh. 
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts. 
So long as women do not go cheap 
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy 
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep 
of a woman near to giving birth? 
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie easy in the shade. Rest your head 
in her lap. Swear allegiance 
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos 
can predict the motions of your mind, 
lose it. Leave it as a sign 
to mark the false trail, the way 
you didn’t go. Be like the fox 
who makes more tracks than necessary, 
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

Wendell Berry is a poet, farmer, and environmentalist in Kentucky. This poem, first published in 1973, is reprinted by permission of the author and appears in his “New Collected Poems” (Counterpoint).

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