Where is Jimmy Carter when you need him?
Sitting in front of the TV watching the fiasco
called The Donald (I thought the hurricane
was named Matthew.), I saw one male talking
head after another posturing shock at The
Donald’s RV beyond “locker room” banter about
wanting to have sex with a married woman in
no uncertain terms. The Donald? Duh. Surprise,
surprise, not. The Donald’s raw, misogynistic,
exploitative lechery, of course, confirmed that
he is a person whose emotional development
was arrested somewhere around age fifteen and
who, seemingly, is a complete stranger to the
simplest formulation of personal morality. The
scary part is that he uses, without hesitation,
male predatory language and actual action all
to the amusement of his sophomoric, short ride,
RVing, male passengers. Jimmy Carter said, in
a Playboy interview that he “lusted” in his
heart. Shock, shock, not. But he didn’t act
on it or brag about it. Wouldn’t it have been
nice if just one of the sanctimonious, male,
talking heads had said, “Well, guys, we all lust,
but beyond the id, we have egos and superegos,
filters, boundaries, moral compasses, not to
mention mothers and sisters and wives and maybe
even a religious faith to keep us in line, and
if none of that works, the fear factor”? Ah, the
Lord looked for one, just one upright, honest
man in Sodom. Jimmy Carter hadn’t been
born, yet.