Thank you, esteemed senators, for setting aside four full days to verbally waterboard me — or, in the Republicans’ case, to fawn over my CV and make friendly jabs at how I like my eggs.
During this hearing, you’ll learn everything and nothing, for I am an open book with blank pages. I always respond but never answer. I am a riddle, a robed enigma with no control over or memory of my actions. Frankly, I don’t know how I came to be seated here today.
Ah, how can my past rulings suggest bias when time is a circle? The only thing I favor is objectivity (as defined by Antonin Scalia). Also assault weapons, corporations, and citing “religious freedom” to legalize discrimination. But these cases aren’t really up to me: I just channel the Constitution using the tiny Ouija board in my brain. And you think I’m out of touch.
Far from partial, I have no principles, ethos, or streaming preferences. Ask my family, seated over there, to humanize me. I am a trusty law calculator, spitting out verdicts. A lowly old law gravy boat, filled to the brim with the Founders’ thick ageless intent. Is it getting warm in here? Can we open a window if we’re going to discuss textualism and originalism at the same time?
Sorry, I can’t speculate about potential cases because I was born without the ability to hypothesize. Like a prisoner of war stating their name and rank, I will only say that I respect precedent, but not so much that I won’t set it on fire. Precedent means everything until five of us decide it means nothing. The law is funny that way — the way that keeps people up at night.
Oh, relax. Would a radical judge have such normcore hair? Would they furrow their brow and quietly jot down “Ways to Overturn Precedents They Don’t Like,” as I now am? I have no agenda, no goals, no weekend plans. I’m not a human being but a glued-together mass of degrees, clerkships, and opinions I’d rather you didn’t parse.
Hm? President… Tru-ump? Am I pronouncing that correctly? Yes, he had me over for a small, sensible garden party, but I barely know the man. Can’t imagine why he nominated me. How dare you jump to conclusions about how I’ll rule based on his expectations, hundreds of my previous verdicts, and my own statements about how I’ll rule. I find the tidiness of your logic outrageous.
This baby here, this pocket Constitution is my bible. The Bible is also my bible, but I won’t let it sway me, even as I root all my personal and professional decisions in its least merciful passages.
Once confirmed to the Supreme Court, I will serve as a humble law ump, calling balls and strikes and infanticides. My accuracy will be immaculate, like a referee’s. People like sports officials, right? This was a winning analogy? Well, I never did have the best judgment.
Listen. You’re the ones who write the laws – so in a way, it’s not I who sits before you but yourselves. Checkmate! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go make one of those signs with a dead fetus on it to shake at college students.