I am beyond pleased to see that the Supreme Court is strictly honoring the sacred legal analysis of constitutional authors like myself, Gouverneur Morris, an esteemed American statesman who died horribly in 1816 because I shoved a piece of whalebone in my dick.
It is clear from the view up here in Episcopal heaven (where all are welcome… as long as you are white) that the approach to consider only the written words of us Founding Fathers as the sole basis of legal legitimacy is flawless. After all, the Constitution is the product of the most respected intellectual minds who founded this country, minds that went on to lead government, become titans of business, and ultimately decide it was a pretty good idea to attempt surgery on themselves with a homemade whalebone catheter despite having no medical training.
Remember that the Constitution was forged by the fiery spirit of scholarly debate, its wording precisely chosen after months of mindful deliberation. That is why the Supreme Court is correct in analyzing modern laws only with the very rational thoughts of those who worked on this magnificent document before getting an itch in their penis from a urinary tract blockage and then were like, “I know a good solution for this, does anyone have any sharp pieces of whalebone?” Surely whatever my ingenious brain wrote down over two hundred years ago must be good enough for whatever is going on now.
It’s true that when the Constitution was written, the only arms to bear were flintlock pistols and muskets and the only climate that was changing was the scientific consensus around alchemy being real, and when I wrote, “We the people,” I envisioned a very… particular type of person (for instance those who could be in Episcopal heaven). But does this mean the text of the Constitution should only be interpreted literally, and anything that is not explicitly mentioned in it cannot be legally supported by the highest court of the land? The answer is yes. The living document died when we legal masterminds died, including those of us who died bleeding out from self-induced dingus wounds.
In retrospect, I admit that my innovative medical procedure was not as successful as I hoped it would be. But that does not discredit what my fellow constitutional framers and I wrote in those hallowed pages. We believed in the freedom of some people, the sovereignty of a government ruled by some people, and the inalienable rights of some people to force the bones of Moby right into their dick. I mean, what more could you the people want?