The Roy Moore MO?

 

WARNING: Today’s content may be upsetting to some readers.

Of all the brainwashed Evangelicals and other fools who still support U.S. Senate candidate, Alabama Republican Roy Moore, it’s pretty safe to speculate that some of them are parents of female minors. What’s been so astounding is that, in spite of five women now accusing Moore of sexually assaulting and/or harassing them in the distant past (when they were in their early and mid teens) the support from Moore’s voter base remains unwavering… in some cases has even been intensifying!

The insanely defiant and inappropriately indignant Moore has been trying his damnedest to bogusly portray his accusers as liars… misrepresent himself as the victim of some unfounded, political, ideological and theological, media driven witch hunt. He’s been hemming and hawing during media interviews and ranting and raving from the campaign trail stump… as if what? High decibel leveled rampaging and roaring could ever transform anyone’s lies into truths?

Of course, it’d not be going out on a limb to call out Moore as a liar. Even U.S. Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell and U.S. House Speaker Paul Ryan no longer believe him.

Much worse than Moore’s ruthless, political ambition is his intimation that he has always been sweet and considerate prior to sexually assaulting his underage victims. Check out this creepy, far from reassuring example of that pig’s hogwash…

 

“I don’t remember dating any girl without the permission of her mother.”

 

Good gawd almighty! Are we to believe that Moore has actually ding-donged the doorbell, tipped his cowboy hat and in his thick southern accent, interlaced with his lecherous laughing, drawled out to countless moms…

 

Roy: G’day, li’l lady! Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Roy Moore and I’m running to be the next U.S. Senator to represent the great state of Alabama. I can already tell by your purdy li’l smile that you’ve heard of me! Well, to get right down to it… I could not help but admire your underage daughter when I ogled and whistled at her… tailed her ever so closely last Saturday night at the Gadsden Mall. However, since I am so gentlemanly, I’m approaching you first to let you in on all the salacious plans I have for her. You see, I plan to molest your little girl… deny her all the carefree days of her youth… traumatize and flat out ruin her entire life. And then, as soon as I tire of her, I’ll promptly dump her. Now, I do hope you’ve raised your little missy to be submissive to whatever demands I will make of her… as in… no questions asked. Indeed, I do fully expect your young’un to worship me… OR ELSE!

Mom: Uh… I dunno… maybe you had better talk to her Pa, too… he’s the man of the house and always makes the major decisions.

Roy: I thought you might hesitate. You cannot possibly view giving me permission to uh… date… your minor daughter to be a major decision. Ma’am, you’ve offended me! And I do find myself growing a bit peeved, too. So, let’s just cut to the chase! I could make life very difficult for your entire family. That’s because a high and mighty man, such as I, has many deeply rooted connections. Yes indeed, I do own dozens of good ol’ boy lawmen and… uh… well… let’s just say that since they’d be all too happy to take the law into their own hands to do my bidding, you’d be a damn fool not to fully cooperate with me here and now. To that end, I fully expect you to sign this legal waiver, which not only makes your daughter mine… all mine… but also absolves me of all legal and financial responsibility should she ever wind up… uh… well uh… let’s just say… in a family way. After all, any baby making would be all her fault… not mine. So, li’l lady, what’ll it be?”

Mom: Oh Mr. Moore, I don’t know how or why I could’ve ever doubted such a fine, upstanding big man such as you. Speaking on behalf of my husband, I know we both would be honored to have someone as famous and saintly as you violate our little girl. We’d even love to make a sizable contribution to help with your campaign. Now, where do I sign?

Roy: Right by that little ol’ X. Now you be sure to press hard so it appears clearly on all five copies. And do fetch your checkbook, too!

Mom: I know you two will have lots of fun! (turning to shout up the staircase to her daughter). Honey, a nice man named Roy… who’ll soon be our U.S. Senator… is on his way up to pay you a li’l visit! Now you be sure to do whatever this great man tells you to do… no matter what… ya hear?

 

 

I sure as hell do hope that that above conversation is nothing more than a work of fiction. For, if it is not, any mom or pop who’d ever let any sexual predator take indecent liberties with their own daughter should be reported to Child Protective Services… ASAP! Prison sentences for all the guilty parties would be in order, too!

 

Check out related articles HERE and HERE.

Advertisements

Lighting the 18th Candle (One Quick Limerick #033)

 

 

Perv cradle-robbers, YOU’RE innocence vandals,
YOU are to blame, NOT your victims, for scandals,
Most statutes document,
There can be NO consent,
If birthday cakes aren’t topped with 18 candles!¹

 

 

¹Some states in America subtract a few of those candles which, regrettably, only further emboldens sexual predators.

Read the story particulars, which inspired this limerick HERE.

 

 

A Low Ladder Rung, Lowlife Sexual Predator

 

My exposé emphasizes how workplace sexual predators are not always superiors of their victims and how entire, totally blameless, hardworking staffs can get caught in the crossfire and find their jobs/careers jeopardized.

On this day in 1978, I punched a major, international retail clothier’s time clock for the very first time… began slaving away in what I have oft referred to as Retail Hell. Such a moniker is well earned considering how my remaining employed oft necessitated my tiptoeing through the psychological minefield found within many of my superiors’ contorted minds.

Case in point, the very first regime I had encountered presented a weird variety of sexual harassment for all underlings to see… an upside-down hierarchy, which any in print and online investigative reporter would have had a field day exposing. I could write volumes about how a sexual predator nearly ruined our store’s profitability / success… but will CliffsNotes it instead.

Right from the get-go, a male underling began dominating / harassing our married female boss… let’s assign some fake names… oh… say… Monty and Dolly. It’s still unclear whether or not she had been a willing partner. That control freak had been so effing cocksure he hadn’t even bothered hiding this adulterous fling.

How bad was this? Well, I once had to prioritize my customer’s shopping list just to steer us away from literally stumbling over Monty and Dolly rolling around and wrestling on the carpet. Fortunately they hadn’t yet earned an R-Rating.

With no time to find a bucket of cold water, I intentionally increased the volume of my voice to subtly remind this “couple” that we were now open for business. Had they not picked up on my subtle “Hey, get a room!” cue, there’s no telling how far they would’ve gone. Clean up in Aisle 2?

Day in, day out… in plain view of all employees… they’d spend entire, eight hour long shifts seated across from one another at her “managerial” desk… Dolly all starry eyed… neither of them getting any real work done… all the while collecting their paychecks… all the while dumping heavier workloads upon their underlings to compensate for their figuratively and literally effing up everything.

Dolly wound up promoting her F-buddy into management… not based on his skills… that is… unless his adeptness at playing grabass and his cocksmanship were considered assets. I cannot begin to describe how disgruntled our staff had become… how low our collective morale had sunk.

To get a better grasp on the depth of Dolly’s calloused attitude and twisted mind, I now present a brief subplot to this story. Following the post Christmas seasonal cut in sales associates’ hours, one morning a co-worker (let’s call her Karly) came back out onto the selling floor in tears. In a hushed, horrified tone of voice she confided in me.

It turns out that due to Karly’s drastically smaller paycheck, she had recently moved in with Dolly… and now our boss was trying to shake down her roomie for half of their apartment’s rent.

After Karly had complained, “But you’ve just cut my hours. The only way I can pay you is if I either rob a bank or sell my body,” Dolly snapped back, “Fine with me… you choose!”

So, why did I stay? Well, it was my corporate loyalty. True, at that point, my job was akin to standing on the deck of a sinking ship, but since Dolly’s neglect and delegation… no strike that… abdication of power had in essence, made me the surrogate “Captain”, I felt it was my place to either go down with my ship or, if lucky, find a way to save it.

Eventually, Monty and Dolly’s superiors caught a whiff of their stench. They “moved in” and Monty moved on… little doubt… ISO another female to sexually dominate, harass and assault. Dolly got reassigned to another store in our district and eventually moved out-of-state. But, not before her husband (let’s call him Todd) had divorced her. It was unclear whether Todd had discovered his wife was cheating on him all on his own or if that bastard Monty had deviously found a way to clue him in… i.e. just to sadistically devastate her husband.

My new boss (let’s call her Mindy) had a tough job to do… had to find creative “solutions” to force out anyone who she suspected of still being “in bed with” the old regime. Her trust no old employees / guilt by association approach to corporate housecleaning, included me. Of course, her theory had been flawed because I had totally despised all the sloth and un-professionalism, which Monty and Dolly had stood for.

Hard to believe, but, a sexual predator, indirectly, had forced me to prove my loyalty to Mindy. To do so, I did what I’ve always done… showcased what I’ve always brought to every workplace I’ve ever entered… my superior efficiency and strong work ethic.

And, folks, that description is not self-aggrandizement. Mindy, herself (during my annual employee review) not only used those words to assess my work performance but to also justify my pay-raise.

I wound up staying on well beyond Mindy’s all too brief era as our store manager… to the tune of 20 1/2 years. Regrettably, after her departure, more negatively themed events made for more sad stories to tell and maybe, someday, I’ll blog about them, too.

America’s avarice and male hormone driven Republicans, many of them sexual predator suck-ups… some of them predators themselves… must drain the sexually toxic, workplace swamps. True, they won’t likely shive a git about the lost human dignity but were we to effectively present this problem as a corporate profit draining / lost worker productivity issue, might they zip up and listen?

 

 

 

bad, Bad, BAD “Grooming”

 

With all of the recent, front page reportage exposing sexual predators who infest our entertainment industry and political arenas… with many of their victims now speaking openly of how they were abused… I suppose it’s only natural that an old memory of mine has resurfaced.

This incident had to have occurred when I was a 10 or 11-year-old… a public school fifth grader. This was at a stage in my life just prior to entering puberty… a time when I was still totally naive about sexual matters… or more to the point… unaware of the existence of sexual deviants.

You see, the common parental wisdom of that 1960s era, small-town America was childhood ignorance is bliss. Little did they know that kids living in cocoons is every sexual predator’s dream come true.

That certainly set the stage for something awful. In my case, it involved an affable, well respected, “happily married”, veteran schoolteacher, Mr. K… who (no big shocker) also attended the same Catholic church I did. True, I wasn’t officially one of his students. But, since he was also a playground monitor, we soon became pals.

His grooming routine consisted of his ear to ear, grinned greetings and never ending repertoire of silly jokes. His “What’s the good word” catchphrase certainly was a conversation starter, too. His pockets bulging with a never ending supply of chewing gum and candy all but ensured he’d always have tons of kiddies constantly swarming around him.

One day, Mr. K entered the boys lavatory and stood at a urinal near the one I was using. It was just the two of us. At first I didn’t think this was any big deal… but…

Within mere minutes, he turned left… aimed his sticking straight out penis right at me and spewed forth what I believed to be pee. Looking back at it now through my adult eyes, there was no way in hell that that had been urine. Even if it had been, why the need for his messy, abrupt, 90 degree pivot? Huh?

My reaction that day, fortunately, was to totally skip the hand washing routine and bolt for the door. While what Mr. K had done did seem rather odd to me, I simply could not connect the dots… realize that this pervert had just gotten off while, perhaps, even fantasizing about me?

And what if I hadn’t successfully escaped? What would he have done next? Would he have targeted me further in the future?

Well, I did act less friendly towards him afterwards. The very fact that I had run away also must’ve worried him… forced him to believe that I was totally on to him… rattled his cage to the point where he never bothered me again. Back in the here and now, I cannot help but wonder if he ever did the same thing… or worse… to any of my classmates?

Because this had been an isolated incident and sans any physical contact, I’d rank my level of psychological damage to be low. Yet, since I did remember this all so vividly… more than a half century later… I cannot help but wonder if, perhaps, I’m actually underrating it?

 

Read a related article HERE.

 

 

Et Tu Sulu?

 

As most of us have heard by now, George Takei… portrayer of Hikaru Sulu in the original Star Trek TV series and in a half dozen big screen films… is now being accused of sexual assault by his alleged victim… male model Scott R. Brunton.

Even though there’s been no legal establishment of guilt or innocence, we now find Takei’s portrait hung in the daily expanding rogues gallery of alleged, Hollywood and Washington DC, sexual predators.

As an avid Sci-Fi fan, I’ve been “onboard” Takei’s starship Enterprise ever since it set forth on its “five year” mission on Earth Date 09/08/1966. Up till this allegation surfaced… his character has frequently been stellar… be his screenplay lines delivered in the Star Trek universe or eloquently orated during his own down-to-earth, real world, social activism (championing liberal causes). Hell, he’s even spoken out against the very type of sexual predatory behavior he’s now being accused of.

We can only hope that Takei’s tweeted sentiments are genuine…

“Those that know me understand that non-consensual acts are so antithetical to my values and my practices, the very idea that someone would accuse me of this is quite personally painful.”

As for who I believe in this specific “he said / he said” matter?

Well, seeing how the percentage of false accusations is typically low… seeing how I’ve been giving credence to others who’ve been exposing performers, producers and politicians (inclusive of a sitting, so-called prez)… seeing how Takei, himself, fessed up to his having forced sex on others when he appeared on shock jock, Howard Stern’s radio program… things are not looking good.

Beyond that… I cannot give a free pass to Takei merely because he’s a liberal. Worse yet, to do so would be tantamount to re-victimizing a victim… something antithetical to my own values.

Obviously, if falsely accused, Takei must deny the charges but… what if his doing so is only self-serving… i.e., just to try to make everything go away ASAP? More to the point, would not a truly innocent man respond thusly…

We can never expect to settle this matter on any social media platform. The more proper venue will be the courtroom where I’m confident, once the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth gets established, a jury of my peers will find me innocent of all wrongdoing.

To the best of my knowledge, there’s neither any arrest warrant nor judicial proceedings pending… but…

Would not a falsely accused person demand his day in court to restore his good name?

 

 

Sunday Mass Mass Murder

Another mass murderer opened fire here in America… the most gun sick society in the world.

This time the bloodbath took place yesterday… on a Sunday… in a church.

I extend my heartfelt condolences to all who tragically lost folks near and dear to them and my best wishes for the fastest, fullest recovery humanly and medically possible to all who were maimed.

Whenever duly concerned folks mention the desperate need for even minimal gun control, America’s cowardly, so-called prez cringes at the mere thought of offending his sociopathic, gun barrel sucking, National Rifle Association besties…no… strike that… beasties. That’s no big surprise considering how the NRA does own him lock, stock and barrel.

#45’s typical, utterly worthless response has been to utter that now-is-not-the-right-time to be discussing this matter… in this particular instance, he said that now is “a little bit soon”.

As if what? It’d be a show of disrespect to all of the dead and wounded?

As if what? He’s concerned about upstaging the survivors? (Is it even possible for a narcissist to ever worry about that?)

As if what? The grieving families would be deeply offended were he to lift even one of his small handed pinky fingers to help avert future mass shooting incidents… act proactively so others need not experience such sorrow?

Truth is that the incidents of gun violence / mass murder are becoming so frequent that, were we to apply the present White House occupant’s whitewash… i.e, his phoned in, now-is-not-the-right-time illogic… each and every time… well…

It’ll NEVER be the right time to discuss this literal life and death matter.

Might this alleged leader actually be yearning for / counting on more mass murdering carnage… i.e., so he can run out the clock on whatever time he has left in the Oval Office… i.e., wind up signing zero gun control legislation into law?

Let’s get real. It’s impossible to imagine how the so-called prez, who always uses superlatives to refer to himself and his business acumen… who fancies himself to be God’s gift to humankind… cannot walk and chew gum at the same time.

The so-called prez needs to redirect his jaw’s energy… less prattling and more chewing… start his exercise regimen by first chewing up and spitting out the tasteless NRA and next reinstating a rule which he killed… the Obama era stipulation that made it tougher for mentally ill individuals to have free access to guns.

 

Read more here

Dallas, TX Baptist church organist, Diane Bish’s rendition of Amazing Grace

 

 

 

 

Guest Blogger: My Late Father, George

 

On this day, 29 years ago, my father died at dawn. For 37 years, he had been the consummate educator… delivering his Chemistry, Physics, Biology and Mathematics lectures to two generations of teenage students residing in Minnesota and Michigan.

As a sophomore and junior I had answered, “Here” during each of Dad’s Monday – Friday morning role calls… as a senior I had been his lab assistant. Of course, I had also benefited from his home schooling, which encompassed life’s lessons.

As most of us know, historically, public school teachers have been underpaid and under-appreciated. So, to supplement his meager income, Dad expanded his lecture circuit… his byline appearing beneath our weekly, local newspaper’s front page column: “The Science Corner”.

Had Dad been born a bit later and lived longer than his 75 years, I’m positive he’d now be an enthusiastic blogger… perhaps even setting up his “lectern” right here @WordPress. I know he’d be thrilled by the prospects of his wisdom and wit spreading outward… at the speed of light… to all four corners of the Earth.

Keeping all the above in mind and with my saved and cherished, time-yellowed, brittle, actual hard copy newspaper propped up before me, I’ve decided to transcribe one of Dad’s lectures. And since 23 of my 46 chromosomes are my father’s… in a sense… 5 of my 10 fingers are his as I… no strike that… as we both… type it out.

I cannot think of a more fitting way to honor my father this day… than to afford him a bit of Internet immortality… resurrect his thoughts… restore his “voice”…  allow him to mind-meld with countless other minds, anew.

 

The Science Corner

DATELINE Thursday, July 2, 1953

 

The age old question – which was first, the chicken or the egg – has been used as a debate-ender, a counter dilemma, and even as a joke. If one discounts the dissertations of the debaters and philosophers and the quips of the comedians and truly strives for a scientific answer, then both the meaning and answer become crystal clear.

All living things, both plants and animals, are made up of tiny bits of protoplasm (living matter which looks very much like raw eggwhite). These bits of protoplasm are called cells. In animals, including the chicken, there are skin cells, muscle cells, bone cells, sperm cells and egg cells – to name just a few. All of the types of cells mentioned above except sperm and egg cells are ordinary body cells and are called somatic cells. The sperm and egg cells (collectively called germ cells) differ from the somatic cells in that the former are used to perpetuate life.

When a sperm cell unites with an egg cell, fertilization takes place. All cells, including new somatic cells and new sperm or egg cells, originate from the fertilized egg cell through processes of division and differentiation. In keeping with these principles, both the new chicken (somatic cells) and all of the eggs (germ cells) that the new chicken will ever lay come from the same egg. To put it still another way, the fertilized egg produces both the body cells which will make up the new chicken and all of the new eggs which the new chicken will lay during its lifetime.

The answer, then, to the original question is: the egg must have been first, because it came necessarily from the previous egg and not from the new chicken.

This concept, first enunciated by the German biologist – August Weismann, is known as the continuity of germplasm theory. According to this concept, the germ cells are immortal if reproduction takes place.

Next Week: Why Does Smoke Rise in a Chimney?