For the last few weeks, I’ve been toying with a post that opens this way:

“For the first time in my life, I’m embarrassed by the Virginia General Assembly.”

Problem is, I haven’t had time to sit down and actually write the post that I’ve been toying with. Fortunately for you, dear reader (Marshall channels Miss Manners), the folks in Richmond keep giving me new opportunities.

Like yesterday — the Virginia Senate and the House of Delegates each unanimously passed a resolution apologizing for slavery. Now, the only people against this resolution are the handful of assholes still running around in white sheets, with shaved heads, or bearing swastikas tattooed on their forearms.

But what good does it do? Why is our government, which can’t figure out how to fund the infrastructure that we desperately need, wasting its time with this worthless pile of words?

Meanwhile, at the same time it was moving along its ode to pointlessness, the House and Senate were also reinstating a program it had wisely let die just two years ago. I refer to the state’s red light camera law. It seems that these nanny-esque cameras are sprouting up everywhere, so you likely know of them even if you’re not a Virginian. They automatically take a picture of your car and your license plate if you breeze through a traffic light whilst its amber bulb is illuminated.

In an era where governments routinely cast aside the Constitution and its enumerated freedoms, we’ve become a little desensitized to government assaults on our liberty, but this one ought to get our attention. First, the law directly challenges the basic notion that we are all presumed innocent until found guilty in a court of law. After all, if the camera catches your car, you get the ticket. No one has to prove that you were even there. Sure, you can go to court and challenge the ticket, but the presumption is that you were driving your car, and you have to prove your INNOCENCE, usually by fingering the person who was driving your car.

Then of course there’s the 6th Amendment. Anyone remember that one from High School civics? That’s because the guarantees under that amendment are so well settled that we hardly talk about them anymore. One of the enumerated rights under that Amendment is the right to confront our accuser. But when our accuser is a camera on the top of a pole, who are we to confront? Answer, of course, is no one. But red light cameras mean big money for local governments. It’s all the cash of parking meters, without the expensive meter maids. Why should a little thing like Constitutional protections get in the way of that?

These are just two examples of the General Assembly’s on-going incompetence. There are countless others.

Throughout my life, I’ve always been proud of the General Assembly, and proud to be a Virginian. Serving in the General Assembly is still a part-time gig. Nearly all of its members still must (and do) have full-time jobs in the real world. They meet 60 days in even numbered years and 45 days in odd. Pay-as-you-go is still the basic philosophy that guides spending decisions.

To be sure, Virginia’s history isn’t perfect. Slavery, secession and massive resistance are shameful episodes in our past.

But history is rife with contradictions, and the facts is that when it comes to liberty and freedom, Virginia led the way. Without Virginians, we would have had no Declaration of Independence (Thomas Jefferson), no Constitution (James Madison), no Bill of Rights (George Mason), and no first President. All of those folks, by the way, served in the Virginia General Assembly. Virginia’s is the oldest legislative assembly in the New World, dating back to its founding as the House of Burgesses in Jamestown in 1619.

These days, as state legislatures have become havens for whacky liberalism, full-time activists bent on expansive regulation, and professional politicians pursuing their careers, Virginia’s General Assembly has been a welcome island of common sense and sound policy-making.

However, its failure to resolve address pressing problems — like the Commonwealth’s transportation crisis — while wasting time on things like apologies for slavery and allowing a steady undermining of freedom are throwing the General Assembly’s sterling reputation into doubt.

Jim: Depressing, Marshall, very depressing.

I’m going to address one of your last points, about the power-hungry expansionist mentality in many state legislatures(Ipod bans, anyone?) because it reminded me of one of Cam’s favorite themes on his show - the importance of personal responsibility. One could argue that we’re approaching some sort of societal tipping point, where more and more people don’t want to be responsible for themselves.

Advertising “makes” us smoke and ”makes” us eat junk food, according to our lawsuits. We want our employers to pay for our health care, and for there to be no limits on the quality and quantity of care we recieve. Somebody else can worry about how to pay for it. We are very upset about high gas prices, without recognizing that we chose a car that gets bad mileage. The effect of the Housing Bubble - shortsighted buyers putting no money down, taking out “super-sized” mortgages, taking adjustable rate mortages without thinking of how they’ll pay in the future, people who bought second houses under the assumption they could sell a few years down the road at a huge profit, etc. – can be summed up by one sentence: People who chose to be irresponsible priced out those who chose to be responsible. Now there’s talk (speculation? Wishing?) of a massive federal bailout for those who bought more home than they could afford, and who face foreclosure.

The message is clear: “Do not hold me responsible for my actions; do not let me suffer the consequences of my own bad decisions.”

Why should we expect lawmakers to be responsible, when so few of us behave responsibly ourselves?