No, I'm not talking about Diana Ross and her 1960's Motown singing crew, so get it together, and remember I'm in D.C. and not in a time machine. I'm talking about the nine robed justices to the highest court in the land.
Now right off the bat, stuff like this just makes my heart flutter, my hair stand on end and my restless leg syndrome act up (I've got to get that checked out). Contrary to popular belief, there are still actually two - make that three distinct branches of government in this country. I can't remember what the first two are, but the third and unelected branch is commonly referred to as the Supreme Court. Sometimes SCOTUS. Figure it out.
Last Tuesday our class had reserved seating to oral arguments before the court and lucky for us, such sessions start at 10 and only last a little over an hour. Let's just say actual lawyer-speak isn't as exciting as it is on "Law and Order" or "Boston Legal."
The 1930s building that currently houses the court was built relatively late in the game, 146 years after the court's establishment. Still, that doesn't mean the building is by any means inadequate or unimpressive. In fact, the first thing you feel when you walk up the large pavilion towards the Vermont-marble fa?§ade of the court is a feeling of insignificance. I felt small. Incredibly small. I almost cried.
This sensation doesn't go away even after you enter the huge bronze doors and walk in to the main hall, which is lined with large solid-marble columns. In between the columns are the white stone busts of all the past Chief Justices, watching you as you approach (in complete silence or you're thrown out/sent to Gitmo) the inner sanctum.
Inside the Court Chamber, at the center of this massive shrine to righteousness, there hang royal red curtains in between the 24 Italian-marble columns. Like pews, the rows of bench seats line all the way to the front, where a winged alter holds the nine leather thrones. The center throne is reserved for the Chief Justice, now John Roberts.
Getting seats to this inner hollow needs to be done fairly long in advance, unless you like waiting for hours in long lines only to get denied entrance at the last possible minute. And it isn't like cameras are allowed inside; no C-SPAN coverage at the court. Got to love open democracy!
The day before our reserved seating date a few friends of mine went down to protest at the court. Apparently a high profile first amendment case, labeled in the media as the "Bong Hits 4 Jesus" case, was being heard that day. Protests. Signs. Banners. Chanting. Not quite Roe v. Wade protest league, but it made CNN nonetheless.
Not the case we went to see. Our case was a "harmless error" case. In layman terms: There was this murder trial, in which after two hung juries and many appeals, it made its way to the Supremes. Basically the testimony of a witness was excluded from the case, testimony that could have influenced the outcome of the case.
Or at least that was what the attorney for the respondent attempted to argue. There was also something in there about which previous standard judges are to use in deciding such cases. But when Justice Thomas fell asleep, I knew I wouldn't be tested on its significance, so my eyes glazed over.
"Oh-yea! Oh-yea! Oh-yea!" No it wasn't the ending scene of a certain type of online downloadable movie (you know it when you see it), but instead it was the call to attention as the justices filed into their seats. Almost a call to prayer of sorts; the session apparently can't start until a woman with a microphone asks God to save the court and the union.
After a few swearing-ins of lawyers to the Supreme Court bar and a reading by Justice Alito of a ruling, the scene began. OK, it wasn't really a scene; it was more like an arms race in which the weapons were words.
The attorney for the respondent began his tirade and the justices allowed him to babble for a good four minutes before attacking. The first to take a shot was the good ol' Sicilian (Eh, Paisano! Keass-a-deetch-e?) Justice Nino "the bull" Scalia. He just couldn't see the logic of the argument and he made it clear to the young attorney standing before him. I've heard Scalia can be quite cutting, as any good Sicilian should be. (In the interest of full disclosure, I'm Sicilian and, therefore, completely unbiased.)
I don't know how to put this, but let's just say high fashion has not yet reached the high court. I mean there really is only so much you can do with a black robe, but that just means there are so many more options in the facial accessory department, namely glasses. Can someone get Ginsberg a new pair?
She's sweet, intelligent, liberal, and she sounds like a grasshopper. But don't let that strange-sounding voice trick you; she knows her stuff. They all do, really. I mean they've reached the Supremes; they've passed Senate confirmation and Ted "Chappaquiddick" Kennedy's drunken questions, so they have to be good, right?
My favorite justice, after my Paisano of course, was Justice Stevens. The whole case revolved around whether there was an error in not allowing certain testimony in the original murder trial. Stevens then proceeded to ask the attorney for the respondent if the jury asked for a read back of the never-heard testimony. Ummm this just in, may it please the court, with all due respect, that is basically what this whole case is about; they never got to hear this testimony!
Senior moment? More like a lifetime-appointment-wasn't-such-a-good-idea moment.
After the war of words ended, I expected the whole courtroom to rise up in a singing of amazing grace or something. I felt the need to utter "amen." For all the talk of separation of church and state in this country, it shocks me how the whole charade seemed so religious in nature.
A buzzer went off; the Justices stepped away from their leather thrones and exited through the curtains. Their next job was to go back into the holiest chamber and deliberate. Just them, only the nine, no one else.
We, as citizens, barely get to see what goes into the oral arguments. Unless it is a high profile case, these daily events barely get covered in the media and no video, audio or photo footage leaves the room. Never mind the closed door discussions and deliberations between the nine. We'll never know what happens in that room. That's just the way it is.
Jamie Bologna is a junior majoring in political science. You can e-mail him at James.Bologna@tufts.edu.
