“We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice —”

Well, blahnt that. It obviously no longer applies. Hard to tell what does anymore in this turvy-topsy world.

Maybe it’s not a world; maybe it’s a whirl.

That’s how it seems in the neighborhood anyway. Or as John Cassidy of The New Yorker put it: 

“In China, rich and famous people get fined for tax evasion. In the United States, they get elected president.”

Cassidy was referring, not so obliquely, to the manner in which the Grand Buffoon amassed his fortune, at least according to a recent investigative report in the New York Times.

The Times piece alleged (And we stress the word, because, like the Grand Buffoon, we wouldn’t want to ignore the principle of innocent until proven guilty. That his Buffooness didn’t seem to stumble across this principle until quite recently has no bearing. We think.)

Anyway, the Times piece alleged that the Grand Buffoon and his family participated in some creative, perhaps dodgy, “parlor games” vis-à-vis pesky taxes.

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That would have been the major story of the day, except the circus that was l’affaire Kavanaught seized the day.

Whatever that was.

Oh, I know; it was supposed to be a confirmation of a Supreme Court nominee, with the Senate acting in its advise-and-consent role, which is does from time to time whether the country cries out for it or not.

That quickly devolved into allegations of sexual abuse some 30-odd years ago, charges and countercharges, somewhat hysterical cries of a dastardly left-wing conspiracy.

The latter was powerfully voiced, seasoned with the aforementioned hysteria, by the nominee, Brett Kavanaught, who, if nothing else, proved he was unfit for the highest court by his demeanor.

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(And truly, if there were a vast left-wing conspiracy afoot in this country, the Grand Buffoon would not be living in the West Wing, he’d be living at one of his golf resorts, plotting real-estate deals in Moscow and wondering why Vladi Putin wouldn’t return his calls.)

In the end, the allegations from Professor Christine Blasey Ford were dismissed by a gaggle of older white males, and Kavanaught was confirmed by the gaggle of older white males. You could excuse millions of women saying, Been there. Seen that.

And the Buffoon, never to be undone by common sense or decency, apologized to Kavanaught “for the terrible pain and suffering you have been forced to endure.”

Buffy also contended that Kavanaught had been “proven innocent,” though, of course, nothing of the sort had occurred. Hmm.

Luckily, there’s some happier news. A colleague points out — as colleagues tend to do, apropos of nothing — that Kentucky has more barrels of whiskey than it has people. Hmm. Sounds like paradise. Or its opposite.

Well, sure, why not, some would say, the way some would say, sure, let’s go trout fishing. Jovially, maybe. Jovially enough that you begin to wonder, quietly, if the whiskey worm has begun to bore its tunnel through the commonsense portion of their brains.

If, indeed, human beings have a commonsense portion of their brains. The jury seems to be out.

Meanwhile, back in Kentucky, the amount of whiskey, the number of people, it all gets a bit hard to grapple with, even if grappling is your strong suit.

Of course, it depends on your definition of “people.” As in, say, does your definition of “people” include Mitch McConnell?

Mitchie is often the center of discussion around these parts, and not merely because with that face, he must be related to the English royal family.

No, Mitchie is the focus because he summoned up all his political courage (though, it must be admitted, some thought it smelled more like spite) and told President Obama where he could stick his Supreme Court nominee. Basically, where dark energy grows wild.

Then, he summoned up some more courage and got Kavanaught confirmed. Somehow, we keep winding up at l’affaire Kavanaught.

And wondering why justice rhymes with just us.