So the wingnuts are pitching a fit because the Kenyan shall not be attending the Saturday funeral of the recently deceased 18th Century jurist Antonin Scalia. These people, they simply won't understand, that the Kenyan, he is under no obligation, whatsoever, to show up, every time some random racist, is bound for the boneyard.

And, anyway, the Kenyan, and Mrs. Kenyan, they shall dutifully troop by, today, before the whaling bloating corpse, as it lies in state in the place where it did the most damage—the United States Supreme Court.

And, tomorrow, Joe Biden, Vice President of them United States, he shall attend the funeral. Which makes sense. Because Biden's a Catholic. And Scalia was a Catholic. While the Kenyan, of course, and as everyone knows, is a Muslin.

Scalia's funeral, it shall take place in the largest Catholic Church in the United States. Which is required simply to accommodate the man's immediate family. Because Scalia, though himself an only child, committed cruel and unusual punishment upon his wife, by forcing her to lie beneath his huge, hairy, grunting, jiggly-piggly body. And, in the fullness of time, emit, from her straining, swollen, pain-wracked frame, the mewling fruit of the slippery juice of his fat-bloated loins. Some nine children. Which have since gone on to produce 36 grandchildren.

Like a bull, or a dog, or a wheat-head, Scalia, he sought to cover all the land, with the seed of his being. He, he be'd fruitful, and multiplied. And multiplied and multiplied. Like a goddam fucking fruit fly.

Scalia, he was always a dingleberry. And, in the histories, there shall be deep glumness, that, because of inattentive wiping, he was allowed, so long, to cling to the ass-hairs of America.

Scalia claimed that, in jurisprudence, he was an "originalist," wedded to the "text and tradition" of the Constitution. But, as David Kairys, so long ago, and so elegantly and simply, pointed out:

[t]he guiding principle for interpreting the Constitution, according to Scalia, is "text and tradition"—the text of the Constitution and the historical traditions of American society. This principle flunks its own test: it is not itself in the text of the Constitution, and does not accurately describe our constitutional history or tradition, which has been extraordinarily activist.

"Originalism" was simply Scalia's code/cover word for "give all the money to the businesses" and "kill the niggers and chastity-belt the wimmins."

These days when some sort of in some way famous human dies in the United States there is this peculiar need to portray the person in the public prints as if s/he had been some sort of globe-bestriding colossus who should be elevated to some form or another of Olympus.

So thus we read that Scalia was some form of legal giant, whose "originalism," it has swept across the land, like an unstoppable locust-swarm.

Except that, on the high court today, only Uncle Thomas, he shuffles along with the Scalia originalist insects. Not even the late Scalia's right-bent other court compadres—Alito, Roberts, Kennedy—will touch the bent beetle. And among the court "liberals," Stephen Breyer, he recently published a work that, in its assault on "originalism," might as well be subtitled Blow It Out Your Bunghole, Fat Tony.

"Originalism," it is pure disphittery. No one takes it seriously.

"Originalism" is, in Felix Frankfurter's memorable phrase, "a derelict upon the waters of the law." No one, in present time, ever thought it even Sane. And, in the histories, people, confronted with it, will but laugh and laugh. With pangs of pain. Which is where laughter, always, comes from.

Scalian "originalism," in Hebraic law, would mean that, now, in 2016, gendarmes would need to blanket the planet to drag out of their tents people who had mixed in a single garment two cloths. And then take them out and stone them to death. Because that's what it Says. Way back in Leviticus.

Other Scalian horseshit we are now forced to be hearing is that he was some great writer and wit. Except Scalia himself admitted he did not draft his own opinions; all his famous "zingers," they were the work, of his snotnosed clerks.

Let's face it. Scalia. He was just a fat man. In a bathtub. With—like all and every, of all and every of us—the blues.

[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kb-yB4OxGBA]

There is an idea, screaming at top volume across all and every quasi-sane tube, that maybe Fat Tony, he did not die of natural causes, but instead got hisself killed.

Mebbe so, mebbe so.

But I know, for a fact, that if he was killed, he was not poisoned. Because of this here email, rendered below, from Justice Sonya Sotomayer, to Justice Elena Kagan, sent shortly after the latter had joined the court, and after she had wondered, appalled, aloud, if maybe, there might, be some way, that Fat Tony, he could be killed.

Elena, I asked Ruth about poisoning Scalia, and she says it just won't work. She says she's tried several times, at those dinners they have together, to slip damn great doses of poison into his food, but none of them have ever had any effect. It is her opinion that he actually died many years ago—probably from an aorta-blow during one of his many uncontrollable fits—and was then replaced by some sort of manufactured RoboJustice, that is impervious to poison. (Also, she says nothing really can be done about Clarence telling you, during conference, to "get me some more coffee, bitch"; according to her, "that's just his way.")

If the above is True, and it is further True that Scalia was in fact "killed," then, if he had really become a RoboJustice, the Ending may have been as easy as unplugging his Power Pack.

A lot of the screaming about the Kenyan eschewing the Fat Tony funeral involves the fact that George II not only attended the funeral of William Rehnquist, but also there delivered a eulogy.

But of course. For without Rehnquist, George II never would have become president.

Because Rehnquist shephered through the high court Bush v. Gore. That was his baby.

Yes, it is true a Scalia son worked for a law firm representing George II in Bush v. Gore; yes, it is true Uncle Thomas' wife was a very senior Cheney factotum, busily processing applications for those seeking appointment to the yet-to-be Bush administration; yes, it is true that Sandra Day O’Connor on election night publicly exclaimed "this is terrible," upon learning that Al Gore had apparently won, for she wished to retire from the bench, but would only do so under a Republican president.

But Bush v. Gore, it was all Rehnquist. Rehnquist, the man who, people today, people with no sense of history, think Scalia was.

No. It was Rehnquist. Who moved the earth, from the Warren court, to what the Americans have today.

Rehnquist, who, as a lawyer in the Nixon administration, out-John Yooed John Yoo, in writing a legal justification for martial law.

In 57 prior cases that had come before him on the Supreme Court, Rehnquist had never once found an equal-protection violation. But he found one in Bush v. Gore. His crowning moment. Coming: in a coup.

Al Gore, he was prevented by main force, from attending the funeral of William Rehnquist.

But the Kenyan, he shall not prevent Gore, from attending the funeral, of Fat Tony.

And thus, at some point, in tomorrow's proceedings, Gore, he shall weave, proud and drunkenly, up the aisle; he shall then pause before the coffin of the dead man; shall then undo his fly; and then he shall rain down upon him, Fat Tony, encoffined; all the fury, of his foggy dew.

[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LRvSdUh3wCE]