So that means he’s going to recuse himself from any cases that would affect his billionaire “friend?” No? Then get fucked, Clarence, you’re still a bribe-accepting douche.
At least twice before, Thomas has similarly defended his failure to make required disclosures as an unintentional error or a misunderstanding of the rules.
Seems like the only possible explanations are that he’s lying or he’s incompetent.
Why not both?
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Mandate ethics standards, add in term limits.
I like the idea of a scheduled rotation. Let’s say, every two years, or mid year to give presidents time to get the hearings out.
Senate must begin immediate and expeditious proceedings for confirmation.
Finally, and most importantly, their robes must be tie dye.
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If we replace a scotus judge every 2 years, they would individually have 18 year terms.
If we assume they’re experienced enough to actually be on the SC, they’ll be pretty close to retirement age anyhow. (If they’re 40, and that’s young, they’ll be 58 when they’re done.)
This doesn’t really change the slow nature of the court. What it does, is to remove unpredictable nature of appointments. Right now, we have a hyper conservative judge because McConnel played games and certain judges died at very inconvenient times. A consequence there is a SCOTUS that doesn’t reflect America at large.
So will he pay back the value of what he received? Or will he not disgorge himself of his ill-gotten gains?
Hahahahahaha. He worked hard to get bribed.
As ProPublica previously reported, in 2019, Thomas flew to Indonesia on Crow’s private jet for an extended island cruise on Crow’s superyacht. If Thomas had chartered the plane and the yacht himself, it could have cost more than half a million dollars.
…
Thomas received undisclosed vacations from Crow and other wealthy benefactors virtually every year for more than two decades.
There’s no way he could afford to pay back all that value without taking a lot more
bribesgifts.
And then he grabbed the reporter by the front of his shirt with both hands, pulled him close, reeling in the fabric by twisting his fists, and sneered at him, inches from his face.
“And what are you going to do?” he asked, steadily, his voice quiet but with a hard edge of menace. His eyes were blazing. When there wasn’t a reply, he suddenly dropped his arm back, and hit the other man’s guts, hard, with one dark massive fist. As the reporter collapsed over coughing and flailing, backing up, Thomas boomed loudly, “I asked you a question, boy! I said what the fuck are you going to DO about it?”
The hapless man was occupied with gasping for breath, until Thomas started approaching him again, and he suddenly cried, “Nothing! I’m not… the one in charge of it, what would… would I even do? What do you even mean?” He was still doubled over.
And then Thomas stopped, and broke into a broad, malicious grin, looking down at him. “That’s right. You’re not gonna do a God. Damned. Thing.”
“Now get out.”