Art, and the summer lightning of individual happiness: these are the only real goods we have. —Alexander Herzen

One evening last week I sat on the deck under the clouds and read John Keats's Ode to Psyche and Ode to a Nightingale. The first poem has one of my favorite lines anywhere: "I see, and sing, by my own eyes inspired." There may be no better proclamation of "naturalistic confidence," as Harold Bloom put it. 

That evening I was particularly struck by the third stanza of "Nightingale": 

Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget

What thou among the leaves hast never known,

The weariness, the fever, and the fret

Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;

Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last grey hairs,

Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;

Where but to think is to be full full of sorrow

And leaden-eyed despairs,

Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,

Or new Love pine at them beyond tomorrow.

Here the poet's eye looks at life without flinching. Keats goes on to contemplate escape

I have been half  in love with easeful Death,

…

To cease upon the midnight with no pain,

While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad

In such an ecstasy!

Perhaps the Immortal Bird "not born for death" whose voice he heard that night was heard "In ancient-days by emperor and clown" and "Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home / She stood in tears amid the alien corn." But "Was it vision, or a waking dream? / Fled is that music:— Do I wake or sleep?"

As you may have picked up, I find this stuff glorious. To gaze at this brief life for what it is, without illusion as much as we are able, and at the same time "see, and sing" the music of poesy, by which I have in mind that in any art that speaks to us most deeply. Keats lived only to twenty-five, and in these twenty-five years knew too well what it is to suffer, to grieve the early deaths of mother and brother, and to face mortality not at some indeterminate future date but with terrible immediacy. That in this brief span he wrote such poems is something wonderful.

The Senate Judiciary Committee's confirmation hearing for Amy Coney Barrett brought the week careening back into the muck. I usually have the radio on while in the kitchen cooking, cleaning up, or brewing coffee and thus caught some of the NPR coverage. The bloviation from both sides of the aisle was unremittingly tedious and unenlightening, as was ACB's determination to reveal nothing beyond her admiration for Antonin Scalia, professed admiration for Ruth Bader Ginsberg, and commitment to constitutional originalism..

ACB's dodge of three softball questions that could and should have been answered easily without running afoul of any restriction on comments about hypotheticals or potential court cases was more noteworthy than all the bobbing and weaving with no punches landed on Roe v. Wade, the ACA, same-sex marriage, &c. Can the president move the date of the election? Should a president unequivocally commit to a peaceful transfer of power? Is it under federal law illegal to intimidate voters at the polls? There is nothing controversial about these questions. ACB declined to answer.

It would have been nice to see the principles of constitutional originalism taken up with some semblance of intellectual rigor. One need not be a devotee of deconstruction, critical theory, and the like to notice that few texts of any substance and complexity lend themselves to a single, unambiguous, correct reading. The Constitution is no exception. The document is replete with broad, general terms and phrases and can be maddeningly vague. Ian Milhiser offers examples at in an article at Vox:

What are the “privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States”? What makes a search or seizure “unreasonable”? If the government wants to deny “liberty,” how much “process” is “due”? What’s a “public use” of private property? What is the “general welfare of the United States”? (Originalism, Amy Coney Barrett’s approach to the Constitution, explained)

The text dates from an era before punctuation became standardized. Comma and semicolon usage tends to be idiosyncratic and does not always contribute to clarity. Finally, and not least, the framers did not agree among themselves about the meaning and implications of the text.

I will break off here before I get in too deep over my head on a subject that deserves more study, thought, and reflection than I have given it and a whole heap more than it got in this week's confirmation hearing. Milhiser's article is a good place to start.

Ah, language.

discursive 1 : a : moving from topic to topic without order : RAMBLING b : proceeding coherently from topic to topic (Merriam-Webster's Collegiate® Dictionary Eleventh Ed.)

It would appear that the word is an antonym of itself. I do not recall coming across it in the Constitution. Probably a good thing.

Much as it pains me to defend Lindsey Graham, the foofaraw over his reference to "the good old days of segregation" is silly. The context makes clear that the words are, as he claims, "dripping sarcasm." Graham says plenty of stuff for which he should  be excoriated. He deserves to go down in ignominious defeat in November. Silly nonsense does nothing to further that cause.

In the domain of the president's personal attorney general:

A federal prosecutor handpicked by the attorney general, William Barr, to investigate whether Obama administration officials had mishandled classified intelligence relating to the Russia investigation has wrapped up his work without finding wrongdoing or considering charges. (Tom McCarthy, 'Unmasking' inquiry ordered by Barr finds no wrongdoing by Obama officials – report, The Guardian, October 14, 2012)

Earlier this year Barr told Republican lawmakers that another investigation, the one by John Durham into Obama-era investigation of Russian election tampering, will not file a report, much less charges, before the election. The president is reported to be less than pleased.

It appears to have escaped the notice of the president, remarkable physical specimen that he is, and court jester Rudy Giuliani that Covid-19 is resurging. Just an observation.

Two recent blog posts present a few thoughts about the vice presidential debate and celebration of an "Indigenous People's Day of Rage" here in Portland, with links below in the usual place.

 19 days to Election Day, 78 days after that until Inauguration Day. As my old college pal said, Biden could shoot me on 5th Avenue and I'd still vote for him.

Keep the faith.

yr obdt svt