I am not one to diminish the ineffable emotional delight inherent in the sight of Senator Bill Frist standing at his podium looking like a lost kitten in the rain. (Somewhere in Colorado Springs, there's a thumbscrew with his name on it.) There is also some undeniable comedy gold in watching the various exotic fauna on the Right go into a mindless stampede all around the old corral. And I do not mean in any way to harsh the mellow of a nice Jesuit-educated lad like Chris Matthews, who is never happier than when the political is rescued from actual politics, and who, when the hooley over the federal judges finally was settled, seemed to be measuring the unremarkable Mark Pryor for a toga.
(At the very least, Pryor is an honest fellow. Speaking of the coalition that brokered the last-minute deal, Pryor told Rick Klein of The Boston Globe, "We don't have a Thomas Jefferson in the bunch." No duh, as the kids say.)
As near as I can tell -- and I have to admit that, if you drop me into a political universe in which an unreconstructed impeach-o-phile like Lindsey Graham is a moderate, I'm likely to be wandering around as aimlessly as the Robinsons did on Lost in Space -- the whole deal on the filibuster depends rather vitally on the words "extraordinary circumstances." The Democrats have promised not to filibuster any judicial nominees except in "extraordinary circumstances." What those circumstances might be, and what would make them "extraordinary," remains curiously unclear. Obviously, a transparent piece of corporate software like Priscilla Owen is not an extraordinary circumstance; she's going to get a vote. Neither is Janice Rogers Brown, for whom Harry Hopkins apparently was Trotsky. Or William Pryor, who may well turn out to have been the kid who famously yelled "Whipping Post!" on the Allman Brothers Band's live set. All three of them are getting the famous up-or-down vote, after which they will be installed on the federal courts until they are called to Jesus.
So if Owen, Brown, and Pryor are not extraordinary, then it's incumbent upon us to determine the parameters of extraordinariness. It's not as much fun as determining the parameters of fabulousness -- for one thing, the music isn't as good -- but it's better to keep our definitions sharp right here at the beginning, so that our new moderate Republican friends aren't "confused" about it somewhere down the line. You know how they are. An e-mail from the White House policy shop -- and a couple shiny gift bags from Pharisees “R” Us -- and your average Republican begins to swoon and topples over backward right on the parliamentary side of his/her principles. In the spirit of bipartisan amity, then, and because, as Mr. Matthews, his eyes alight, ceaselessly reminded us, The People wanted this deal, here are some rough guidelines to help out both sides. The following should be considered "extraordinary circumstances" and, thus, eligible to be filibustered (politely, of course) by your new, powerful Democraticparty:
1) Space aliens: The Democrats should insist on their right to stop the president from placing on the federal courts anyone with three arms, two heads, or eyes in the center of their foreheads.
2) House pets: The Democrats should stand firm against the elevation of schnauzers, hamsters, and goldfish to judicial positions in which they might have to make decisions affecting their owners. However, in order to maintain a long-standing senatorial tradition, an exception may continue to be made for lapdogs.
3) Stigmatines: The Democrats should resist these people, even at the risk of being accused of an anti-Christian bias. They're too preoccupied, and, besides, they get the bench all sticky. On the other hand, they make great pen holders.
4) Shrubbery: The Democrats should hold fast to the position that, while being a shrubbery has never been a bar to remaining on the bench, one ought not to begin one's career that way.
5) Spokespeople: The Democrats should be steadfast in their resistance to nominees who come before the Senate in orange jumpsuits festooned with the logos of their various corporate clients. (This would have been a problem for Madame Justice Owen. She would have looked like a stock car.) It is, of course, perfectly in keeping with the new spirit of congressional moderation to vote for a nominee who has represented, in the past, corporate interests that might eventually appear before the nominee at the federal bench. It is wrong, however, for them to take out ads for themselves.
(There is a corollary to this under which, in the spirit of getting America moving again, we are willing to grandfather in Chief Justice William Rehnquist; to wit, no candidate will be considered unless he/she promises not to dress up on the bench like an extra from The Prisoner Of Zenda.)
6) Clowns: There is no place on the bench for big rubber feet. However, there is a loophole in the clown rule that applies metaphorically.
7) Imaginary People: The Democrats should never relent in their opposition against the nomination and confirmation of people who do not exist. These include The Monster Under the Bed, The Ghost in the Closet, The Man in the Moon, and Joe Lieberman.
8) Invisible People: The Democrats should be ceaseless in their vigilance to prevent the nomination and confirmation of people whom they cannot see. A nominee's invisibility should be restricted to his/her previous public opinions.
9) Mimes: The Democrats should maintain their traditional opposition to jurists who come to the bench in whiteface, Hugo Black notwithstanding. No Death Row inmate should have to wait out an appeal because the judge hearing the case is walking against the wind or trying to escape from a cardboard box.
10) Ken Starr: Disqualified under at least four of the above.
Charles P. Pierce is a staff writer for The Boston Globe Magazine and a contributing writer for Esquire. He also appears regularly on National Public Radio.