An extraordinary gathering of 75 attractive, upper-middle-class white women of a certain age testified in a DC hotel today, Friday, September 21st. Here’s the gist of it: there is no better male character on earth than that of Brett Kavanaugh’s. The man they knew, and knew well, is incapable of the brutish behavior of which he stands accused.
But here’s the thing. Who’s to say what happened? By all accounts of the culture around those private schools in the DC ‘burbs in the early 80’s was fraught with sex, drugs, and lashings of alcohol. The accuser’s private school yearbook illustrates a girls-gone-wild world, where black-out drunk was the goal every party night, and Professor Ford was an enthusiastic participant.
As anyone who experienced a high school of privilege knows, social pressure is more intense because it is directly related to future advancement. Fall out of favor, and you aren’t just a loner, you’re knocked out of the procession towards a life of success and wealth. Despite Kavanaugh’s sterling reputation, I find it plausible that one night, in an attempt to fit in, he made an awkward, horseplay-like attempt to ‘get some’ from one of the heavily self-advertised village tarts. We will never know. It is impossible to know. Everyone was drunk and it happened 36 years ago. Without evidence or a pattern of behavior on the part of the accused, it’s a wash.
Two versions of women are herewith presented for younger women to observe and judge and decide who to emulate. Hysteria, victimhood, screaming as you are hauled out of committee rooms or a sound and balanced life with children, husband, job, good hairdressers, $75,000 cars, frequent vacations, and a life of praise connected to work that serves the culture?
I’m pretty sure who is going to win this one.