The news is travelling at the speed of light throughout the galaxy that some justices of the Constitution Court don’t even know how to write. The justices had also been caught redhanded hiring ghostwriters to write their opinions, which would form a central verdict in the case of National Counter Corruption Commission vs Thaksin Shinawatra.

In the Constitution Court’s chamber earlier this week, Justice Dumbfounded and Justice Blurhead were discussing their plight. For all their credentials, their diplomas, their certificates, their degrees and their experience, they just don’t know how to write.

The two justices were deeply worried over how to guard their lifelong secret.

“What should we do now that the whole world is suspecting that we don’t know how to write?” asked Justice Dumbfounded.

“I would rather die than have to write a report,” said Justice Blurhead. “I am too old to take an elementary writing course at the AUA again.”

“Me too,” agreed Justice Dumbfounded. “I really hate writing. I have never written a single report in my entire life. I thought I could always get away with it.”

“Writing is not my trade. When I was studying at school and later on at college, I always did multiple choices. I never wrote an essay. And I could always manage to have a roon nong or roon phi to do the homework or reports for me.”

“I did the same thing too. I just gave them Bt100 and they were more than happy to do the research and type the reports for me,” said Justice Dumbfounded. “I also hired my roon phi to write my thesis.”

Justice Blurhead began to get a bit more emotional. “I can spend the whole day talking. I can lecture on any political science subject. I can appear on any talk show programme. And I will accept a debate against Chirmsak Pinthong on his TV programme anywhere, anytime. But God forbid, don’t ask me to write anything.”

Justice Dumbfounded nodded his head approvingly.

“It’s too bad that they found out that my clerk has written the opinion for me. Rather than working in my office at daylight, he should have typed the report at home so that nobody would know.”

“My clerk was equally stupid. I told him to write the opinion quickly. He could write in any way he wanted to. But I never expected him to write the verdict while the TV camera was rolling.”

“Our clerks should have been fired. They are not worth their Bt35,000 salary.”

“In a way, I think Chief Justice Prasert Nasakul is being unfair. Just because he voted against the majority opinion does not mean that he can order us to write our individual rulings,” said Justice Blurhead.

“I think so. Otherwise, nobody would want to become a clerk anymore.”

“By the way, are you ready to submit your opinion yet?”

“You’re kidding. I have just made a copy of what my clerk wrote for me. The trouble is that I have to type it all over again. I haven’t touched a typewriter for 30 years.”

“I have done the same. Nobody will find out because I threw the original copy prepared by my clerk into the trash.”

“But how would you argue for your opinion on the application of Article 295? The authors of the Constitution should have skipped this article to save us all the trouble. It’s a pure jinx,” said Justice Dumbfounded.

Justice Dumbfounded held up a copy of the Constitution, which he keeps with him all the time since his appointment to the bench. He tried to look up Article 295 again. “I have never seen Article 295 from the outset no matter how hard I try,” he said.

“But Justice Dumbfounded, what you are holding in your hand is the 1932 Constitution.”

“Oh, is it?”