The Depredations of Judges

How Congress Lost Their Way

Hey y’all! All of y’all!

We’ve got a serious problem in America, and it’s growing like a weed in a neglected field. Judges—those black-robed folks who should stick to settling disputes—are reaching way beyond their lane. They’re telling the government how to run things, halting laws with a single bang of the gavel, and acting like they hold the reins of our Nation. Just this week, on March 13, 2025, U.S. District Judge William Alsup in California ordered six major federal agencies—Veterans Affairs, Agriculture, Defense, Energy, Interior, and Treasury—to rehire thousands of workers fired by the Trump administration. One judge, sitting in one courtroom, issuing a command that echoes coast to coast! People call these “activist judges,” and it’s got folks thoroughly ticked off.

But hold on a minute—don’t point the finger at the judges just yet. They’re only picking at a mess someone else cooked up. The real trouble starts with the laws coming out of Washington—laws so long and twisted they’d tie your brain in knots. And why are these laws such a disaster? Because Congress has lost sight of its job. The Constitution, our bedrock rulebook, spells out what Congress can do in Article I, Section 8—and says flat-out that’s their power to wield, not to hand off. But they’ve gone wild, scribbling laws about everything from your doctor’s visits to the wind over your roof—stuff the Constitution never gave ’em, and then passing the buck to agencies and courts. That’s the heart of it, patriots: the depredations of activist judges come from bad laws, and bad laws come from Congress straying outside Article I, Section 8 while shirking their duty to keep the lawmaking reins. Let’s dig into this tangle and sort it out.

The Judges: Grabbing Power

Imagine a judge in his courtroom, gavel ready. His task is straightforward—settle arguments, read the law, keep justice on track. The Constitution, in Article III, says he’s got authority over “cases” and “controversies”—things like fights between folks from different states, or federal crimes. Congress set up “inferior courts”—district courts and appeals courts—to handle the everyday load, with the Supreme Court watching from above. Back in 1789, the Judiciary Act kept things tight: courts dealt with ship squabbles, small crimes, nothing too fancy.

Now? They’ve grown bold as brass. Take Judge Alsup’s move this week. He didn’t just help a handful of fired workers in California—he told six huge agencies nationwide to put thousands back on the payroll, and warned he might rope in more agencies later. One ruling, one man, shaking things up from border to border! Look back a few years—courts blocked Trump’s travel ban in 2017, stopped Obama’s immigration fixes in 2015, even tried to force the government to fix climate change in a case called Juliana. People call this “overreach,” and it’s got tempers flaring. Why’s a judge in California or Hawaii deciding what the President can do everywhere? Shouldn’t that be up to the voters or their elected leaders?

These judges aren’t making this up out of nowhere. They’ve got laws—big, sprawling ones—that give ’em room to act. The Administrative Procedure Act from 1946 lets ’em check if agencies follow the rules. Title 28 of the U.S. Code says they can take any case “arising under” federal law. Problem is, those laws are loose as a frayed rope, and some judges—activist ones—grab that rope to pull themselves into the spotlight. But who wrote those laws? Who handed ’em the rope? That’s Congress, friends, and they’ve got a bunch of blame to shoulder.

The Laws: A Jumbled Heap

Let’s talk laws, patriots. In the old days, they were short and sharp. The Judiciary Act of 1789 fit on 20 pages—plain as daylight, telling courts what they could handle. Today? They’re giants—2000 pages, 3000 pages, more words than a library shelf! The Affordable Care Act in 2010 clocked in at 906 pages—rules on doctors, insurance, and who-knows-what. The 2021 spending bill? Over 5000 pages, crammed with favors for every politician’s backyard. You think any congressman read that cover to cover? Not likely—they vote blind, and we’re left holding the bag.

These monster laws cause trouble three ways. First, they’re unclear—words like “reasonable” or “necessary” float around, meaning whatever anyone wants. Second, they dump power on agencies—hundreds of ’em, like the EPA or IRS—to sort it out. Third, they tackle stuff Congress shouldn’t touch, not by the Constitution’s measure. When a law’s unclear, agencies write rules to plug the gaps. Then courts step in to judge those rules. That’s how Alsup ends up bossing the Treasury on hiring—some massive budget law likely left a hole, and he jumped through it.

Look at the last 20 years. The healthcare law got so knotted, courts had to rule on subsidies (King v. Burwell, 2015). Immigration laws were a mess, so Obama’s DACA came from agency brains, only to get axed by judges. The Clean Air Act—old and sloppy—let the EPA push climate rules, till courts pulled ’em back (West Virginia v. EPA, 2022). Every time, a bad law gave agencies wiggle room, and judges either let it slide or took over. Bad laws are the fuel, folks. But why are they bad? That’s where Congress has gone off the rails—and ducked its duty.

Congress: Breaking the Constitutional Fence—and Giving It Away

Here’s the core, Americans. The Constitution’s our guide—Article I, Section 8 lays out Congress’s job. They can tax, borrow, raise an army, run the post office, manage trade between states—18 tasks, straight as an arrow. The Necessary and Proper Clause lets ’em make laws to finish those jobs. But here’s the kicker: Article I, Section 1 says all legislative power stays with Congress—they can’t just give it away. That’s the non-delegation doctrine, plain and simple: Congress makes the laws, not some unelected bureaucrat. The Tenth Amendment seals it: if the Constitution don’t hand Congress a power, it stays with the states or the people.

But Congress ain’t sticking to the guide—or keeping its grip. They’re like a farmer plowing every field he sees, then handing the plow to someone else. They write laws on healthcare, education, the environment—stuff the states once handled—and then tell agencies, “You figure it out.” Why? Some claim it’s modern needs—big issues want big fixes. Others say it’s power hunger or vote-chasing, tossing cash at every loud voice. Whatever it is, they’ve spawned nearly 400 agencies—EPA, DEA, Department of Education, you name it—by passing off their Article I job. In 1789, we had four departments. Now? A government so bloated it can’t stand straight!

These omnibus bills—those 2000-page giants—are the proof. They mash everything together: a road here, a school there, a new agency to poke at folks. Then they say, “Agencies, take it from here.” Nobody gets it, not even Congress. They don’t grasp climate tech or healthcare costs, so they dodge the work, leaving the fine print to bureaucrats and judges. That’s how we get bad laws—too long, too vague, far outside Article I, Section 8, and handed off against the Constitution’s rules. When Congress jumps its fence and shirks its duty, the whole nation stumbles.

The Chain of Trouble

See the link, friends? Congress strays from Article I, Section 8, writing laws on things it shouldn’t touch. Then it breaks the non-delegation rule, tossing its power to agencies with a wink and a nod. Those laws grow huge and hazy, letting agencies stretch rules like taffy. Then activist judges—like Alsup with his big swing—snag those loose laws to play ruler for a day. The depredations of judges don’t start the fire; they’re the smoke from a blaze Congress lit by going rogue and giving up its reins.

Think it through. If Congress stuck to Article I, Section 8—and kept lawmaking in-house—no healthcare kingdoms, no air police, no 400-agency mess. We’d have short laws, clear as a bell. No space for agencies to meddle, no openings for judges to overstep. The Tenth Amendment would keep states in charge of local matters, like the Framers planned. A judge in California wouldn’t dare tell the Pentagon what to do, ’cause no law—or agency—would let him near it.

Time to Right the Ship

So what’s the fix, ye defenders of liberty? Some call for “one-page laws”—make Congress boil it down, no more 2000-page tangles. Might be hard—wars and trade take some ink—but the idea’s solid: keep it clear, keep it small. Better still, chain Congress to the Constitution. Every law should say, “Here’s how this fits Article I, Section 8—and we’re keeping it ourselves.” If it don’t fit, or they try to delegate it, it don’t pass. The Tenth Amendment and non-delegation doctrine are our anchors—use ’em to sink these extra agencies and overgrown laws.

Judges like Alsup? They’d have less to grab if Congress stopped tossing ’em sloppy laws and agency handouts. Courts can’t overreach without fuel. Sure, some’ll push anyway—power’s a hard habit to break—but higher courts can knock ’em down, and we can back the play. The real fix starts in Washington—Congress has to quit acting like it owns every corner of this land and stop pawning off its job.

Your Call, Your Country

This ain’t just talk, patriots—it’s a stand for the nation. Bad laws from a wandering, delegating Congress birthed these activist judge antics. We’ve seen it for years—healthcare, immigration, climate—and now with Alsup’s latest reach. The Constitution’s our shield; Article I, Section 8’s our boundary, and non-delegation’s our guardrail. Should Congress stay inside it and hold the line? Can we trade these giant bills for laws a regular American can read? Write your lawmakers, speak out, light a fire on Covenant Nation. What’s your take—time to rein in the chaos? Let’s hear your voice!