He Said, He Said
He had nothing to lose by his operatic performance, after all, they are just U.S. senators. After this formality, they don’t mean much. He’s taking his cues from the big guy, who’s style is attack, attack, attack. The big guy isn’t his boss, of course, but, unlike Comey, he understands the winks. The meaningful eye contact. The way the big guy grasps his elbow. The extra pump of the handshake. Comey didn’t want to play. Comey, the real patriot, understood the purpose, the mandate, of federal law enforcement. DJT’s candidate went to the top schools. Was a top student, a top athlete. You could call him an altar boy, and you’d be right. He’s perfect, plus this candidate will vote the right way, right big guy?
He is currently on the DC Circuit, he’s been there 12 years. He’s getting a little bored with his cushy job. When you’re spending your time coaching your daughter’s basketball team and teaching the gospel to homeless, paraplegic Great Danes with gluten allergies, it’s time to upgrade. Yes, it’s time for him to glue the gold stars to his dream board. And the gold stars spell S – C – O -T – U – S. He’s done everything right, everything! A federal judge, an upstanding community member.
Oh yeah, except as a teenager, he tried to rape a 15-year-old girl with an assist from his buddy. They were casual acquaintances; they didn’t go to the same school, but they were in the same social circle, and saw each through friends of friends, etc. One day, in one summer, at some one’s home, the two boys pushed her into a bedroom and locked the door. He had his hand over her mouth, and his friend turned up the music. They joked and laughed; she fought and prayed he wouldn’t suffocate her. Who knows—he might have been a successful rapist, too—he was just too drunk to get her bathing suit off.
The decades passed, his career progressed, and he had a beautiful family. It was all perfect…until she showed up, “at the eleventh hour”, her detractors said. Except it wasn’t the eleventh hour. She knew of his career, and, at no time over the yearsdid she try to derail his success. She told a few intimates and her therapist about his attack, only. She wanted to remain anonymous to him and the world.
She watched as he made his approach toward the bench. When he landed on the short list of candidates, she called and wrote to the right people. She did this before he became the candidate. When there were three others who were equally-credentialed. No one would have been alarmed if he hadn’t been chosen. Imagine her despair seeing her attacker lauded and congratulated. She, too, was a patriot. The truth of the of the assault compelled her to speak of his crime. She showed the letters with their dates. The assault and her attacker were perfectly manifest, unmistakable to everyone who isn’t Lindsay Graham, that is.
Her testimony was remarkable for its humility and honesty. It was incomplete, she knows that. But, there is no doubt that he attempted rape. Because her testimony had gaps, she requested an investigation. She knew the FBI could turn up the people, places, and dates that would tie her testimony together.
Several senators concurred. They asked him if he supported an investigation, a fact-finding that could only help him. This potential jurist to the High Court whined, wept, slobbered, and insulted. He evaded this question. He refused to answer this simple direct question. It was alternately embarrassing and frightening.
She, on the other hand, was honest, and as direct as she could possibly be. She did not seek this performance, it was thrust upon her. Watching it all play out, we were shown that in 2018, even in the U.S., women don’t mean much.
Shame on you all.