The Supreme Court, that hallowed temple of jurisprudence where nine robed oracles divine the will of the Constitution, has spoken. And Donald Trump, the orange-tinted Sisyphus of American politics, has been handed a mixed bag of legal marmalade. One win, three defeats. A scoreline that would make a hungover cricket commentator weep into his tea.
Let us begin with the sole victory, a crumb of comfort for the twice-impeached demagogue. The court ruled, in a fit of unexpected clemency, that states cannot simply boot him from the ballot under the 14th Amendment. A glorious, pedantic victory for the procedural purists. Trump, no doubt, celebrated with a Diet Coke and a tweet storm of capital letters. But do not be fooled. This was no vindication. It was a legal technicality, a judicial shrug that said "not today, but perhaps tomorrow."
Now, the defeats. Oh, the defeats. They came like a trio of vengeful Valkyries, each one more damning than the last. First, the court declined to fast-track Trump's claim of absolute presidential immunity. In layman's terms: no, you are not a king. This is not a banana republic, despite the best efforts of certain Mar-a-Lago habitués. The justices, in their infinite wisdom, said "we shall not be rushed." A delay that feels like a victory for the slow, grinding wheels of justice.
Second, the court allowed the January 6th committee to access Trump's White House records. The documents, like ghosts from a past that refuses to be exorcised, will now see the light of day. Trump's lawyers argued executive privilege. The court said "nice try, but no cigar." The privilege of attempting a coup does not extend to hiding the evidence.
Third, and most deliciously, the court upheld a New York grand jury subpoena for Trump's tax returns. Yes, those tax returns. The mythical scrolls that have been the holy grail of journalists and prosecutors alike. Now, they are within reach. The Supreme Court, in a rare moment of bipartisan clarity, said "show us the money." Or rather, show us the lack thereof.
What does this mean for the former president? It means the walls are closing in, not with a bang but with a series of legal memos. It means that the man who once boasted he could shoot someone on Fifth Avenue without losing voters now faces the mundane reality of document production and deposition dates. The theatre of the absurd continues, but the props are being taken away one by one.
In the grand tradition of British understatement, let me say this: it has been a bad day for the former guy. A day when the highest court in the land reminded him that the law applies to everyone, even reality TV stars who stumbled into the Oval Office. The gin in my glass trembles with excitement. Justice, it seems, is not entirely blind. She just needed a good pair of spectacles.
