https://twitter.com/heyitschili/status/1045718359713681408
- heyitschili
Good afternoon, Mr Chairman, ranking member Feinstein, and members of the committee. My name is Brett Kavanaugh, and this is an even more malarial job interview than the one for The Apprentice. Same boss, though. To the Republicans among you, I would say: I know you believe her, but I thank our mutual God you don’t care. To the Democrats, I would say: Don’t ask me if I’ve ever blacked out from drinking. HAVE YOU?
[Sniff] If the classic job interview question is “What are your weaknesses?” I guess mine are that I’m occasionally coherent. Otherwise what you see is what you get. If this angry, aggressively maudlin guy accused of multiple sexual assaults can’t just adjudicate everything for ever, then what was even the point of the last 27 years? Who are we? Where is the justice? What was … How can … When is America?
I LIKE BEER. I STILL LIKE BEER. DO YOU LIKE BEER?
[Sobbing] You get a lot of sex cases on the supreme court. At least two, if I’m approved. Dear God, I can’t wait till this nonsense – NONSENSE! – is over with and I can get a keg with Clarence and start impacting women’s lives in multiples of millions, as opposed to having to do each one individually. Did I say that out loud? Can you imagine my inner monologue when this is what I’m willing to televise? Do you like how I ramble? [Sniff] Do you like how I’m not even in the same zip code as my point? I don’t even … what is detail? What is restraint? [Screaming] What is a hippocampus? It sounds like something my dentist shot in the country of Africa.
[Sobbing] I LOVE ALL MY FRIENDS! No matter that crying and howling, “I LOVE ALL MY FRIENDS” is the textbook behaviour of an insanely drunk person – I want you to realise that this display today is the precise level of WTF-ery that still won’t be taken as self-sabotage. I could walk into this room, vomit neat tequila on the desk, and still get confirmed to a position in which I plan to have more impact on your kids’ lives than you, OK?
I WAS A VARSITY ATHLETE! I HAD A LETTER JACKET!
You’ve heard of bestman.com – I got a lot of this material off supremecourtjock.com. So yes, this session is going to be the sexual assault testimony version of The Producers. The more grotesquely absurd I act, the more intemperate I am, the more I cry in a way that you’ve only seen George on Peppa Pig cry, the bigger hit I have on my hands. Seriously. I can act like an improv comic who’s just been given a card reading “safeguarding issue” and I’ll probably still be approved.
I am on a HAIR TRIGGER HERE! I coach little league! Yes! Maybe you’ve seen guys like me round your kids’ sports games. On the sidelines, right? Maybe you’ve seen me screaming my unique blend of judicial calm about disputed calls at second base. And if you have, you will have thought: I really want that guy to be in charge of my uterus.
Yes. Don’t interrupt me, woman senator conducting this meth-assisted job interview – because I am the Gipper of your womb. You hear me: I AM THE GIPPER OF YOUR WOMB.
[Sobbing. Sniffing] I LOVE ALL MY FRIENDS. Laurie. Maura. Clair. Blair. LaToya. Shania. Alanis. Thane … Se … Seniquis … Seniquista. All names. All real names. Of my friends. I have a weak stomach.
I cannot stress how absolutely irrelevant things that happened in high school are. They are irrelevant, and meaningless. Do you know how much I worked out at Tobin’s house during high school? Do you know what I could bench press in high school? I could bench press you, Senator Feinstein. And I have spent days demanding a hearing to explain what I could bench press in high school and I was DENIED. DENIED!
OK, I accept the wheels of justice turn slowly. Unless I’m driving the car, when it’s just a road-rage incident waiting to happen. But did I mention my workouts with Tobin? God, he was such a great quarterback.
[A primal scream is heard] Thank you. Thank you for that Senator Graham – especially considering that a rape of your certainties has been attempted today. AN ATTEMPTED RAPE OF YOUR CERTAINTIES. But by the Lord, you held strong. After today, you can call yourself a survivor, sir. Also, thank you for making sure I wasn’t even the worst guy at my own sexual assault hearing. Did you ever see The Accused? Day one on the court, I plan to repeal that movie.
OK, I need a five-minute bathroom break. Yes, I’m drinking a lot of water. Hey – at least I’m housebroken. I’m HOUSEBROKEN. WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM A SUPREME COURT JUSTICE?
[Hearing resumes] I am an optimistic guy. I always try to be on the sunrise side of the mountain. [Hearing adjourns for another 15 minutes]
Like me, you will be incredibly moved by my own tears, and great honking sniffs. I haven’t seen a display of emotion like it since Oscar Pistorius had a bucket placed beside him in court so he could throw up at the evidence of his own crime. Yet people demonised him. Women! Women demonised him. I know, I’m rambling again. But you know, the single psychology report I’ve ever believed came from the one they found for that case, which said Pistorius had a warped fight-or-flight reflex because a guy with his challenges didn’t have the option of flight. What? I DON’T CARE IF HE CAN RUN THE 100m IN 11 SECONDS. God, I wish I could reach out to him now.
[Sobbing] Why can’t the supreme court have jurisdiction over South African appeals? WHY? We are the international gold standard of how justice is served. Look at this. Look at what has happened in this room this afternoon and tell me we aren’t the shining city on the hill, and that the entire world isn’t sitting slack-jawed at what we’re capable of.
You know, the other night my daughter said we should pray for someone I’m simply going to call The Woman. Such wisdom from a 10-year-old. What? No, she’s not available to sit on the supreme court instead of me. Like I told her: the president would nominate a dead Democrat chimpanzee to this job before he’d nominate a female over your daddy.
To conclude, I am under a lot of stress here, which is why I am screaming. Dr Ford can’t be under any stress because she didn’t lose her shit at all. Indeed, flicking through my Rolodex of ways to dismiss women – I keep all my Rolodexes, like my father did before me – I alight on a card reading “not emotionally screamy enough”. I have other cards. In fact, it’s right along from “too emotionally screamy”. But this is the card I am playing today. And I have NOTHING further to add.
• As told to Guardian columnist Marina Hyde