For Richer Or For Poorer

Let’s say you take a vow (call it an oath) to stand by your spouse for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health.

The vow is witnessed by the largest crowd ever to witness a marriage (or at least so you claim).

Ever.

Now a few years have passed.

The marriage has gotten rocky.

You’re in your office with one of those high-end surveillance systems that let you see what’s going on inside and outside your home.

On your way in, you were complaining to your acolytes that your spouse has treated you rotten lately . . . that she’s thinking of ditching you (and boy are you ever steamed about that, boy are you ever the victim in this relationship).  And you exhorted them to fight like hell to persuade her to stick with you.  If not forever (though possibly), then for at least four more years.

You know that these folks would do almost anything for you — you have the same kind of power over them Jim Jones had over his crowd — and so now you’re back at your office watching as they attack your wife.

You re-wind some of the most violent parts to watch them again.

Your children — and staff from inside the House itself — beg you over and over to call it off . . . to call the police . . . to do something to rescue your wife.

But for more than 20 minutes . . . more than 40 minutes . . . more than an hour watching this . . . more than two hours!  More than three hours! . . . you do nothing.

QUESTION: Would you say you had honored that vow (oath) you took?

I mean, come on, people.  This is not rocket science.  You saw it with your own eyes.  How is this defending your spouse?  Or, in this case the Constitution?

It’s not good enough to accept election results only when you win.

It’s not good enough to accept judicial findings — many of them rendered by your own appointees — only when they’re in your favor.

It’s not good enough to cherish the peaceful transfer of power only when it is transferred to you.

It’s not good enough for the Supreme Court to uphold the Constitution (in this case, the Fourteenth Amendment) when Trammell Crow tells you it’s okay to do so.

It’s just not.

Meanwhile, as I was writing that yesterday, Trump was in court watching his lawyer argue that, under the law, a president can do literally anything — even kill his political opponents — and never face criminal prosecution unless first impeached and convicted.  I’m sure you’ve seen that by now.

If true, then a president — Trump, say, in a second term — could kill anyone he didn’t like . . . and then, if impeached, kill whatever Senators he feared might vote to convict.  End of story.

(It’s probably worth noting that the only reason he wasn’t convicted — the vote was “only” 57-43 when it needed to be two-thirds — is that Majority Leader McConnell told his team impeachment was the wrong route to take; that once out of office two weeks later, he would be criminally liable.  Otherwise, McConnell — and presumably those who looked to his leadership — would have added their votes to the 57.  Indeed, in a secret ballot, the vote would have been more like 98-2.)

ONE MUST-SEE MINUTE

Here.