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I’ll be on a panel with the inestimable Mike Sacks. Check it out here, live at 3.

What happens when JK Rowling, author of the Harry Potter books, seeks special permission to build a 250,000 pound Hogwarts-style tree house? Like magic, it’s granted.

The author JK Rowling has won permission to build two Hogwarts-style tree houses in the garden of her home, despite complaints from neighbours.

Rowling, 46, plans to build the two-storey structures for her children David, nine, and Kenzie, seven, in the grounds of her17th century mansion in an Edinburgh suburb, at an estimated cost of £250,000.

The author of the Harry Potter series was given permission by City of Edinburgh council despite objections from several neighbours who are already upset by other renovations and building work around her home.

Drawings submitted to the council’s planners show the tree-houses will be erected on tall stilts beside mature conifers in the garden. They will have tall cedar shingle conical roofs and be connected by long partly-elevated walkways and a rope bridge.

The buildings will feature turreted windows, pennants, a basket and pulley, and an owl perch. David’s playhouse will include a long tunnel under a walkway and a fireman’s pole; his sister’s boasts a trapdoor, rope ladder, a metal slide and spiral staircase down to the garden.

How could anyone object to such an awesome treehouse for her kids? Well, land-use boards in Edinburgh seem to share something common with land-use boards here. Neighbors like to complain.

Members of Cramond and Barnton community council had urged the council to reject the proposals because they believed a gap in a line of trees in her garden meant the tree houses would be visible to passers-by.

Dr Patricia Eason, the community council’s secretary, said: “Our concern is without this high and substantial screening belt of conifers, the entrance to the conservation area would be marked by this massive and very high tree house development and this would be quite out of character with the area and unacceptable.”

Tom Borthwick, a neighbour of Rowling, said he did not object in principle to large structures being built in people’s gardens but this case was different. “I do object if such buildings have a visual impact on the surrounding area and properties and conflict with existing planning policies, particularly in a conservation area,” he told planners.

Ultimately, the boad approved the measure:

With reference to your application for Planning Permission registered on 12 July 2012, this has been decided by Local Delegated Decision. The Council in exercise of its powers under the Town and Country Planning (Scotland) Acts and regulations, now determines the application as Granted in accordance with the particulars given in the application.

Any condition(s) attached to this consent, with reasons for imposing them, or reasons for refusal, are shown below;

I wonder if eminent domain was used to build Hogwarts Castle…

In response to people who said that the Constitution (in contrast with the Declaration) had no references to God, I would turn to the last page, right after Article VII, and cite this part:

Attest William Jackson Secretary

done in Convention by the Unanimous Consent of the States present the Seventeenth Day of September in the Year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and Eighty seven and of the Independance of the United States of America the Twelfth In witness whereof We have hereunto subscribed our Names,

Apparently, that part–known as the attestation clause–is not actually part of the Constitution!

So says Akhil Amar

 One textual arrow might seem to point in a different direction. Immediately preceding the thirty-nine famous signatures at the bottom of the 1787 parchment, we find the following words: “done in Convention by the Unanimous Consent of the States present the Seventeenth Day of September in the Year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and Eighty seven and of the Independence of the United States of America the Twelfth. In witness whereof We have hereunto subscribed our Names.” [Emphasis added.]

At first blush, these words might seem to contradict the central meaning of the religious test clause and the presidential oath clause. After all, the Constitution requires federal officials to take an oath to the Constitution itself. If that document really does proclaim that Jesus Christ is “our Lord,” then isn’t this oath-taking itself an improper religious test?

As it turns out—though this fact has until now not been widely understood—the “our Lord” clause is not part of the official legal Constitution. The official Constitution’s text ends just before these extra words of attestation—extra words that in fact were not ratified by various state conventions in 1787-88.

What, then, are we to make of these words? Just this: The words “our Lord” are much like the words “so help me God” in presidential inaugurations. No president can be obliged to utter these words in his inauguration ceremony, but presidents may choose to add them, if they wish. Over the course of American history, most presidents have in fact chosen to add these words. Similarly, the Constitution nowhere requires a president to swear his oath of office on a Bible, but a president can choose to do so—and almost all presidents, beginning with George Washington, have in fact done so. Similarly, the thirty-nine framers at Philadelphia were allowed to profess their faith even in the public square. Some signers with quill in hand likely gave no thought to the “Year of our Lord” language and its theological overtones. But other signers may well have mused on things eternal, and on their personal relationships to God, at the precise instant when they added their names to a plan that they hoped would sharply bend the arc of human history toward justice.

Huh. Go figure. I won’t make that argument anymore.

H/T ConLawProf List Serve

Following up on yesterday’s Round V, with Posner striking a blow against Scalia and Garner, now we have another volley.

This exchange between Ted Frank and Bryan Garner on Twitter suggests that Garner was blindsided by Posner’s review. Also, Garner’s response is non-responsive.

@tedfrank Thanks for sending it. Interesting that Posner J. doesn't try to defend against our criticisms of his past positions.

— Bryan A. Garner (@BryanAGarner) August 29, 2012

Let’s see if Justice Scalia gets in the mix.

Update: Ed Whelan chimes in with a lengthy defense of Scalia (his former boss) and Garner. This part towards the end deals with Posner’s allegation that the authors omitted evidence:

In his leading item in support of his contention that “omitting contrary evidence” is “Scalia and Garner’s favorite rhetorical device”—the “is a taco a sandwich?” case that I’ve discussed—Posner falsely contends that Scalia and Garner present a court’s “dictionary reference” as though it “were the court’s entire decision.” But Scalia and Garner use the case only to illustrate their “Interpretation Principle”—namely, that “Every application of a text to particular circumstances entails interpretation.” They say only that the court “sensibly relied on a reputable dictionary,” not that it exclusively did so. Indeed, they specifically note that the term “sandwiches” was not “a defined term in the lease”—a point that Posner repeats while giving the impression that Scalia and Garner hid it.

As my own post on the case shows, I agree with Posner that the dictionary definition of “sandwich” that the court cited was in some respects a poor one. But that flaw has zilch to do with the very limited use that Scalia and Garner were making of the case.

There were several other cases that Posner claimed were cited incorrectly.

It is absolutely amazing how quickly this meme spread. I make a point not to ever watch the conventions or any political speeches live (I just skim the transcript afterwards–saves time, and don’t have to worry about applause breaks). But, I let my Twitter run during the speech, and I find I can follow the moods on the right and the left instantly. The #eastwooding meme just exploded without any plan within minutes of Eastwood’s chair gag. Very Hayekian