Spicer’s apology, as heartfelt as it may be, doesn’t entirely resolve the issue. He is enmeshed in an Administration in which designations of us and them, our people and not our people, the good ones and the bad ones, provide a rubric for almost every policy. For Spicer to revert, as a default, to such terms in explaining why Assad is worse than Hitler suggests that he—and, it is a safe guess, others in the White House—are either not registering the implications of what their boss is saying or are doing so all too well.

Poet obnoxiōsus

Amy Davidson at the New Yorker comments on the hidden poetry in SCOTUS judge Antonin Scalia’s dissents and suggests a Scalia poetry game:

And now a proposal for a game. The poem above uses all of Scalia’s italicized words strung together in order, with line breaks and punctuation. But could there have been a more stirring rendition if they were scrambled? And are there Scalia dissents out there with even greater poetic possibilities? […]

The rules: you don’t get to use the words in footnotes, or any of the Latin or case names. Also out are italics Scalia uses to imagine how some future judge might edit a decision he doesn’t like—a slight pity in the case of Windsor, as it excludes such phrases as “enjoying constitutionally protected sexual relationships.”

I never would’ve thought I’d mention Scalia and poetry in the same post. But Davidson makes it work.