On this glorious Fourth of July in these once United States, it’s well to remember that every living thing dies. And the Constitution, progressives say, is a “living document.” Since it is treated as such, it will die—and our nation with it.
Any “truth” which is subject to whim, to provision, to shifting opinion, to “evolving” history, is not a truth, or is so only by accident. Any government not based on Truth cannot last. A “living” Constitution, however, is a necessity if one wants to escape Truth, to get what one wants, and be on “the right side of history“.
If the meaning of the words of the Constitution—or any other foundational document or book, come to that—is allowed vary by whim, then because whim eventually leads to madness, and madness is deadly, again the Constitution will die.
Democracies suffer from the delusion that truth and falsity, that right and wrong, that justice and injustice, can be decided by vote. A check on this invariably fatal practice in these once United States was a document which limited powers of the people, and therefore of Government, from wandering over the abyss.
But that check is removed when the Constitution is seen as providing justification for desired or fashionable opinions. Our current operation is backward. An opinion is decided first and words in the Constitution are found which can be bent around this opinion and “justify” it. That operation is what makes the Constitution “alive”.
What should happen is that opinions are tested against the immovable Constitution. Those that accord with it are upheld, those which are at variance dismissed. Once this process is abandoned, anything goes.
Add to this that our guardians, the justices of the Supreme Court, are chosen by identity politics and not intelligence, ability, or even wisdom. And they cannot be fired for incompetence or idiocy. Thus a justice can say
At the heart of liberty the right to define one’s own concept of existence, of meaning, of the universe, and of the mystery of human life
and not be run out of town covered in tar and feathers. That quotation, incidentally, is one cherished by every inmate of Bedlam, and for obvious reasons.
So Happy Fourth, all. Enjoy it while you can. And remember: death isn’t always a bad thing.
From too much love of living,
From hope and fear set free,
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods may be
That no man lives for ever;
That dead men rise up never;
That even the weariest river
Winds somewhere safe to sea.