In its McCutcheon v. Federal Election Commission decision last week, the Supreme Court struck another blow to campaign finance restrictions—this time finding aggregate limits on campaign contributions unconstitutional. And I’m not even mad. When you’re already living in a two-walled house, you take little notice when another crumbles.

But I have a few unanswered questions.

Money is speech, obviously—but is my long-standing practice of cramming cash into the mouths of congressmen currently protected by the First Amendment? If my pet politicians misbehave, may I sue for damages? Can a class-action lawsuit be considered on behalf of all my friends who were only able to purchase a portion of elections last cycle?

Is Chief Justice John Roberts’ dismissal of the possibility that large donations could lead to corruption just a reflection of the culture of corporate citizenship and the selflessness of billionaires? Or does it just become easier to pull the wool over your eyes if it’s cashmere?

If  “ingratiation and access” are not corruption, as the court wisely noted in Citizens United, may I ingratiate myself by offering access to my private jet to politicians? Can they access my ingratiation via a solid gold telephone?

If the Framers wrote that the government was to be “dependent on the people alone” and “not for the rich more than the poor,” where would one find the secret to the First Amendment that our two esteemed originalist judges have stumbled onto?

Should I think that “the Framers would have been appalled by the impact of modern fundraising practices on the ability of elected officials to perform their public responsibilities,” as Justice Stevens wrote in his dissent to Randall v. Sorrell, or the more articulate summary sent out by the winning attorney in McCutcheon, who tweeted: “FREEEEDOMMMMM!!!!  #SCOTUS strieks [sic] aggregate limits in #MCCutcheon - woo hoo!”

{shortcode-176d5f7609cbc122feb0b91956cc98c51d60f072}

Now that freedom and justice have been restored to our democracy, will similar justice be done in the hallowed halls of the Supreme Court? Will Clarence Thomas commit to a vow of non-silence? If not, could America settle for someone sitting the good justice down and informing him that quoting his previous dissents for a few pages does not constitute a Supreme Court opinion? If Clarence Thomas were to resign, should I prepare myself for the Second Coming?

While I understand that the plight of the few hundred people who were maxing out on the $123,300 limit over a two-year election cycle demanded the intercession of justices, now that the effective cap has been increased to $3.6 million for each election cycle, will the good court fight in this newest frontier of oppression against the ultra-wealthy?

Since Chief Justice Roberts intelligently noted that “if there is no corruption concern in giving nine candidates up to $5,200 each, it is difficult to understand how a tenth candidate can be regarded as corruptible if given $1,801,” will similar reasoning apply to $3,600,001? What about $3,600,002? Does anyone else see a pattern here?

What about federal laws that still unconscionably ban corporations from direct contributions to politicians? Since they’re people too, my friends, doesn’t that effectively make them second-class citizens? When will they be given suffrage? Might we live to see the proud day when President General Electric or Senator Deutsche Bank takes office?

Will the 132 people who gave 60 percent of all super PAC donations in 2012 be left behind by the court’s decisions, with only their mansions and incalculable wealth to satisfy them? Will the vampiric Koch- and Adelson-funded political operations fold, or sink their teeth deeper into the spine of the American political system?

Will the timeless dances between candidates and the totally-not-coordinating super PACs still play out across our television screens, or will that be a relic from the past that we might display with pride to our grandchildren?

More importantly, what would happen if American elections did not seem as unsavory as dining at a Guy Fieri restaurant? What would happen if the constituents, not the contributors, decided our elections?

Idrees M. Kahloon ’16, a Crimson editorial executive, is an applied mathematics concentrator in Dunster House.