Why is it that whenever history repeats itself, it always seems for the negative? How wonderful it would be if a cure for an insidious disease or a monumental peace agreement between historically warring nations could be anticipated to reoccur on a predicted timetable.

How tragic that there have been witch hunts in the past that in hindsight were clearly driven by a blind hysteria; witch hunts with substantial collateral damage as innocent people have had their lives ruined. They pop up at various points in history, and we learn from them, and recognize the folly and fallacy which created them, then- our collective memory is swiped, and history is repeated. Salem is forgotten, then McCarthy rears his ugly head. When he is exposed, the McMartin preschool fiasco fills the void.

I feel the point has been reached when reasoned, conscionable people must push back on the excesses of the Me Too Movement.

I do not believe an allegation sans due process equates to guilt. And hysteria being what it is, I do not believe several allegations do, either. I do not believe in conclusions without evidence. I do not believe evidence is enough without one’s day in court. I do not believe Charlie Rose or Garrison Keillor are monstrous sexual predators who should be blacklisted and their legacies expunged. Although being a dirty old man may be disgusting, it is not a crime. I do not believe Al Franken’s behavior even comes close to warrant resigning from the Senate (he was not even touching that sleeping woman’s breasts, and to magnify the absurdity, she appeared to be wearing a bullet proof vest!) And now Joe Biden. Overnight he has gone from warm, avuncular Uncle Joe to Uncle Creepy from Tales From The Crypt. He is a “touchie feelie”kind of person, bearing only warmth and good will, just like- yes- just like many women.

Do women ever say inappropriate things, or subject men to unwelcome touching? You never hear about it. During my life I would estimate hundreds of women have subjected me to spontaneous hugs, and, brace yourself gentle reader, I have had my fanny smacked and pinched- hard- by dozens of randy, playful women without my consent. Now, either the deck is stacked against us men, or, as in my case, slut that I am, it was taken as a windfall, and not a capital offense.

And so, I would say to my fellow progressives, yes, any true violation of space or person should be called out. But the behavior of the Bidens and Franken’s of this world is light years away from rape and sodomy. And if we keep devouring our own, Trump will laugh all the way to the 2020 inauguration. And with that, allow me to share a piece I read at Gatsby’s Books in Long Beach last Saturday, which I hope is apropos.

Come Home, Kevin Spacey

I’ve been told that Da Vinci kept a twelve year old boy as his concubine, and that Cellini was a rapist; Celine an antisemite; Pound a Fascist; Bukowski a misogynist; Polanski a pedophile; Rimbaud a slave trader; Genet a thief and Ben Johnson a murderer.

But I ask- should the sins of the artist overflow, infecting the art? Should we throw acid in the Mona Lisa’s face, burn the cantos and jackhammer Perseus With The Head Of Medusa?

Perhaps a darkened soul allows embarkment on a Journey To The End Of The Night.

We sinners are the creators, especially when haunted by guilt-
The saints have left no artistic legacy, for which we should all be grateful.

One thought on “Come Home, Kevin Spacey

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