The Brett Kavanaugh Supreme Court confirmation debacle is yet another solid reminder that we live in spectacularly depressing times. Two separate allegations having failed, for once, to crack the collective spines of the Republicans on Capitol Hill and derail Kavanaugh’s nomination to the nation’s highest court, Michael Avenatti, that self-aggrandizing ambulance chaser, has just become the latest to add to this bonfire of the vanities.
Yesterday, Avenatti posted an affidavit on Twitter from one of his clients, a lady by the name of Julie Swetnick, who claims to remember Kavanaugh and his pal Mark Judge vividly from encounters back in the early eighties. These two boys, alleges Ms. Swetnick, spent most of those days harassing girls at house parties and “spiking the punch” in order to soften up those undesirable female inhibitions. Before long, Kavanaugh, Judge and a host of others were lining up to “gang rape” them one after another, herself included.
I will leave the mudslinging over the facts and/or fiction of Ms. Swetnick’s claims as well as her personal background to the full-time keyboard warriors on the World Wide Web. But, stepping back and looking at the entire episode from a distance, I’m skeptical of the whole affair, for a few reasons.
First, the hodgepodge of allegations fielded at Judge Kavanaugh sounds almost too good to be true for the Democrats — but too bad to be true for any sane person. You and I are to believe that this man, with a legal career dating back all the way to 1990 which includes a rather controversial and public stint on the Ken Starr team, cruised through every confirmation hearing, job application and FBI background check for the better part of thirty years without one person ever raising a red flag, yet now all of a sudden turns out to have been not just some jock who spent his teen years acting like a frat boy high on testosterone but a serial rapist. A rape charge is a serious allegation, serious enough, one supposes, that not even the letter from the Judiciary Committee Democrats yesterday in response to Avenatti’s bombshell makes any mention of it.
The good news for the Democrats is that these claims cannot be positively refuted. Mark Judge denies any of it, but then we are to assume he’s in on the shenanigans. Ms. Swetnick tells the world she “believes” to have been drugged before getting raped. She cannot state this as fact, but neither can we refute her “beliefs”. Then again, anyone questioning these allegations in the first place is probably a misogynist guilty of “victim-shaming”. I see the accusation appearing all over my social media feeds. This is how the Left now sows resentment among credulous women: Let’s turn the battle over Kavanaugh into a #MeToo circus. It’s all the fashion these days, and moreover, we can feel safe knowing that the outlandish claims we throw at the guy can never be positively disproven. Who cares about due process and the presumption of innocence until proven guilty anymore, not to mention the fact that we’re possibly destroying the life of a completely innocent person?
The whole episode just checks too many boxes to not get the feeling it was carefully crafted to force the Republicans’ hand and make them drop Kavanaugh like a hot potato, or pay a heavy political price in November if they won’t. If this holds true, the precedent has been set that literally any method short of violence is warranted now to win one’s political battles in our beloved republic, no matter how dirty and underhanded. It is a very slippery slope indeed, and it would logically follow that the only possible next step is actual violence. The other day Ted Cruz and his wife were chased out of a restaurant by ‘anti-fascist’ protesters, but no worries, says CNN’s Don Lemon, “that’s what he signed up for.” One wonders if the media would be equally sympathetic when the Right starts using the same mob tactics, which will inevitably happen one of these days, as our civilized political order is crumbling before our eyes. Do we really want to go further down this road?
There is a deeper ideological element to the present dilemma too. It’s probably safe to conclude at this point that Brett Kavanaugh loved himself a good party in his younger days, and there’s also the possibility that, indeed, amid all the drinking he made a lewd move or two towards women. Watching the Christine Blasey Ford hearings today, one doesn’t get the feeling she’s making it all up, even if she comes across as a bit loopy and might well be embellishing her story. That she and Ms. Swetnick were gullible subjects, however, can hardly be debated given the evidence at hand. What is it with these young girls getting so hammered they are unable to remember where and when and with whom these supposed incidents took place? If “Kavanaugh’s penis or perhaps his doppelpenis somewhere in Maryland around 1982 or 1981″ is close enough for all the narrative journalists out there with their personal agendas, it shouldn’t be sufficient to ruin a man’s career.
Everybody’s been spiking the punch for everybody for the better part of six decades now, and we’re finally reaping the rewards of our collective sexual promiscuity: Not equality, freedom, and the breaking of taboos, nor flowery summers of love, but unprovable accusations of gang rapes at parties three decades prior where everybody got so drunk they couldn’t distinguish one penis from another any longer. The Voxplanation the other day went thus: “Kavanaugh’s confirmation process has brought to the surface many of the problems we struggle with as a society when it comes to discussing sexuality and sexual misconduct.” Well, knock me down with a feather. That mess, however, is the direct result of a targeted assault on our culture by progressive intellectuals which has been brewing since the early twentieth century and came to full fruition in the 1960s. Do you think our grandparents would have ever frequented parties like those described by these ladies?
After Ms. Swetnick herself was supposedly “gang raped” by Kavanaugh and his misogynist buddies “in approximately 1982,” that fact failed to prevent her from continuing to attend the parties well into 1983. Better luck next time, I suppose. Would it be terribly insensitive to entertain the speculation that she (or Ford, for that matter) might have been hopelessly in love with Brett Kavanaugh, found herself in seventh heaven after having drunk sex with the guy, but then got an ice cold shower when she saw him making out with a different girl a week or two later? And that today, 35 years after the fact, she gets her shot at revenge, cheer-leaded by the Democrat cabal and national media willing to take Kavanaugh down at any price?
The letter from the Judiciary Committee Democrats prudently — or shrewdly — avoids mentioning anything having to do with “rape”. It mentions only Kavanaugh’s alleged excessive drinking and, quoting the affidavit, engaging “in abusive and physically aggressive behavior toward girls, including pressing girls against him without their consent, ‘grinding’ against girls, and attempting to remove or shift girls’ clothing to expose private body parts.” Do you want to bet there’s one single Democrat in the Senate who’s never attended a party where this kind of behavior was commonplace? If so, what were they all doing in college? But, fortunately for them, none of them will be the next conservative Supreme Court nominee being pulled out of President Trump’s hat.
If Kavanaugh ever makes it to that court, they’ll be battling him for the next thirty years over the right to free birth control and legalized abortions without ever pausing for five seconds to ponder what kind of culture they, as moral and political leaders of our nation, wish to promote and enable. While these senators spent their days at Yale and Harvard living the good life, their progressive cultural ideas permeated to the rest of our society, including its bottom half, where they wrought serious social and cultural havoc in the form of out-of-wedlock births, single-parent families, high divorce rates and all the socio-economic troubles these phenomena bring with them. And sadly, they may lead to excesses involving Supreme Court nominees who at one time partied like it’s 1999. C’est la vie. Ideas have consequences, guys; You can’t have your punch and drink it too.
In conclusion, if there was any meat to the accusations leveled at Brett Kavanaugh, Dianne Feinstein should not have sat on Christine Ford’s letter for six weeks only to go public at the eleventh hour, regardless of the latter’s personal wishes. Sorry Ms. Ford, but you can’t throw around accusations of attempted rape in the midst of a Supreme Court confirmation process and expect your fragile feelings to be protected in the aftermath. In any event, you and the others should have come forward thirty years ago, hard though that might have been for you. Statutes of limitation exist for a reason. As for those liberals now arguing over the definition of “drinking in excess” and purporting to be modern-day Dante Alighieris: Give me a break. Let him who is without sin cast the first stone, and stop destroying Western culture if you can’t face the consequences of your ideas.
Addendum: After watching Kavanaugh’s turn on today’s hearings, I’m tempted to say I was too harsh on the judge and too soft on the professor. All the female wailing on Twitter that Kavanaugh’s is classic perp behavior notwithstanding, I find it hard to believe that a guy would get this aggressive and emotional if the allegations were true. In addition, something about Ms. Ford is just ‘off’. Perhaps I’m the gullible one now, but I’ll take my chances.