Combat Zone

Harlan Crow and I Have Been Getting Illicitly Explicit and I Want the Whole World to Know

Harlan Crow, my beloved, holds me on the deck of the Titanic. Photo Credit: Ishaan Gollamudi

By Associate Justice Clarence B Thomas

In the midst of this vitriolic flurry about judicial ethics, I have come forth to clear my name. I have been repeatedly accused of impropriety in my disclosure of “gifts” from Harlan Crow, and I write this piece today to lay those accusations to rest. The only gifts I have ever received from Harlan Crow are his time and his love; he is my rock, my world, my wildest fantasies come to life.

You seek the truth about the trips I took with Harlan? Let me lay it bare, like he did me: Harlan Crow and I absconded from the prying eyes of Washington D.C. so we could enjoy each other’s company in private. Since you insist on transparency, we [REDACTED] for three blissful hours, while I [REDACTED] his [REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED] with my gavel, until he [REDACTED AND EXORCISED], after which we cuddled. I was the little spoon. My wife never lets me be the little spoon, one of the many dysfunctions in our loveless marriage that makes me feel so alone.

I was lonely for so long until I met Harlan. It was a balmy summer in 1997, but nowhere near as sultry as the dance floor in the all-male Bohemian Club where I first saw Harlan. We eyed each other for hours, and by the time I worked up the nerve to talk to him, he was already sauntering over. Harlan penetrated me with questions the entire night, on topics ranging from the details of the case I had heard that day, to how I felt about being married to a woman for appearances, to – most erotically – how I felt about taking judicial advice from interested but unqualified parties. Finally, I felt that someone took an interest in me, and it wasn’t just for my political office.

That night was the first night of an ongoing torrid affair. Harlan Crow has since become my closest confidante, my most trusted advisor, someone whose counsel has proven invaluable time and time again over my tenure as a SCOTUS justice. We’ve risked arousing suspicion many a time. I thought we would be found out for sure when I suggested that Obergefell v. Hodges and Loving v. Virginia should be reconsidered. Loving was so I could get out of my marriage to Ginni without the resulting awkwardness, and Obergefell was Harlan’s idea. He said if we made gay marriage illegal, then this beautiful thing we shared would not have to be constrained by labels or expectations. Like with everything else, he was absolutely right. 

But now, we’re going public. Not because I have been coerced into disclosing all of the “luxury vacations” – I prefer “romantic getaways” – we took together, but because I can think of no better way to demonstrate to Harlan how much I love him than by publicly declaring it. For too long he’s lived in fear about being found out. Now – just as Harlan showed me the world all those years ago – I want to show him that as long as we are together, he has nothing to fear anymore. I am declaring publicly that I love Harlan Crow, and if the ravening liberal hordes want me to resign because they think my love for Harlan is influencing my decisions, then rest assured: Harlan influences every decision I make. That’s what true love is. Complete and utter devotion to someone who treats you the way you deserve. But love also requires reciprocation, which is why I bring Harlan with me to all of the events I attend as a Supreme Court Justice. He supports me in my career by advising my rulings, and I support his career by giving him opportunities to network.

If you have not yet been convinced of how deeply I love Harlan Crow, then I shall offer this one last piece of evidence: he bought my mother’s house to turn it into a monument to our everlasting love! He’s not turning it into a monument immediately, though. He plans to raze the house first, build high-rises on it, then rent those out to generate enough income to fund the museum. It should only take a few decades, just in time for our 50th anniversary