On Monday I say, “Here is a wonderful document. It establishes a federal republic based on checks and balances with the purpose of protecting our natural rights and securing the blessings of liberty. It is a living document, and explains how we can update it if we need to.” And you say, “This is a good document.” On Tuesday I say, “The document has some new sentences. Now it also says we should end slavery.” And you say, “That is also good.”

On Wednesday, however, I say, “Now the document says there are some other rights that overrule some of the old ones.” And you say, “Can I read the new sentences?” I reply: “There are no new sentences. Just a new meaning.” You ask, “Where did the old meaning go, and how did you squeeze this new meaning into the old sentences?”

On Thursday I say, “Now the document says we have the right to marry any way we like. Today two men can marry each other, and tomorrow they can marry five men or five women; after that, perhaps they can marry their mothers and their dogs if they like.” You ask when the document started meaning this, and I answer “Just this morning.” You ask when I updated the words to include this new meaning and I say, “The words have not changed since Tuesday.” It’s hard to say what will happen on Friday, but it probably won’t be good.