Question

The U.S. Supreme Court came to a decision not long ago about the proper application of the word “use.” Briefly, the case in point was about a man named John Angus Smith who traded a handgun for cocaine. The law under which Smith was charged provided for a much more severe penalty—known as an enhanced penalty—if a gun was used in a drug-related crime than if no gun was involved. (In this case, the enhanced penalty was a mandatory thirty-year sentence; the “unenhanced” penalty was five years.)
Justice Antonin Scalia argued that Smith’s penalty should not be enhanced because he did not use the gun in the way that the writers of the law had in mind; he did not use it as a gun. Justice Sandra Day O’Connor argued that the law requires only the use of a gun, not any particular kind of use. If you were a judge, would you vote with Scalia or with O’Connor? Construct an argument in support of your position.

Answer 1

Answer: Far over the misty mountains cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away, ere break of day

To seek our pale enchanted gold

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells

While hammers fell like ringing bells

In places deep, where dark things sleep

In hollow halls beneath the fells

For ancient king and elvish lord

There many a gleaming golden hoard

They shaped and wrought, and light they caught

To hide in gems on hilt of sword

On silver necklaces they strung

The flowering stars on crowns they hung

The dragon-fire in twisted wire

They meshed the light of moon and sun

Far over the misty mountains cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away, ere break of day

To claim our long-forgotten gold

Goblets they carved there for themselves

And harps of gold, where no man delves

There lay they long, and many a song

Was sung unheard by men or elves

The pines were roaring on the heights

The winds was moaning in the night

The fire was red, it flaming spread

The trees like torches blazed with light

The bells were ringing in the dale

And men looked up with faces pale

The dragon's ire, more fierce than fire

Laid low their towers and houses frail

The mountain smoked beneath the moon

The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom

They fled their hall to dying fall

Beneath his feet, beneath the moon

Far over the misty mountains grim

To dungeons deep and caverns dim

We must away, ere break of day

To win our harps and gold from him

Far over the misty mountains cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old