Judging the Judge: What Antonin Scalia’s Death Means to the People I Love
I’m not sad Antonin Scalia is dead.
Wow! It feels so good to say that aloud!
Come on. Admit it. You feel exactly the same way.
I know. I know. Everywhere you turn, people are going out of their way to talk about the ramifications of the 79-year-old Supreme Court Justice’s death without passing judgement on him.
“Let’s keep it classy,” they say.
Oh. Stop it.
In his 30 years on the bench, Scalia hurt an awful lot of people. And I mean real, live people – not ideological constructs, not hypotheticals – but moms, dads, husbands, wives, daughters, and sons.
The aggregate amount of misery in the world was drastically increased by his being in it. And now that he’s gone, much of that misery may be relieved.
So spare me any shock at my thesis. Spare me the false praise of a truly reprehensible human being.
He was against women controlling their own bodies, efforts to desegregate our Judging the Judge: What Antonin Scalia’s Death Means to the People I Love | gadflyonthewallblog: