Much as Judge Kavanaugh fits the image of the privileged snotty white kid who starts out life on 3rd base, this whole last ditch effort to block his confirmation to the SCOTUS looks desperate, pathetic and more than a little ridiculous, at least to me.
First, there is the problem of memory: Some 20 years after graduating, I traveled back to my high school, driving along Whittier Boulevard, block by block hurtling back toward those discouraging times, the scenes of so much defeat and disappointment, toward the hideous prefabricated school buildings of that high school, thinking about what a dark time high school was.
I was visiting to interview two kids from my high school who had applied to my college.
But as soon as I stepped into the building, I saw 15 year old girls in the familiar black/white/royal blue colors, pleated cheerleader skirts and white sweaters, bouncing up and down, excitedly flirting with boys in front of their lockers and I was immediately thrust back into that time and I thought, "God! How I loved this place! It was so much fun, just thrilling."
So there is that. The mutability of memory.
Now, you will say, sure, some memories are like that. But the memory of getting sexually molested or raped stays fixed, seared into your memory.
But then again, memory is a slippery thing.
And then there is the problem of time passing.
Outraged liberals have opened themselves up to the jibe coming from a Republican Congressman: "Have you heard? Ruth Bader Ginsberg just claimed she was groped by Lincoln!"
It may not be all that funny, but it is effective and you know that will resonate with a lot of people.
And there is the problem of the joy of victimhood, the "Me Too" movement with its self righteous certainly of moral superiority, in which an entire movement is dedicated to the proposition accusation is equivalent to conviction.
As liberals, progressives, socialists, whatever you want to call us, we have been compromising constantly. We have been trying to work up enthusiasm for Adam Schiff, Chuck Schumer, Corey Booker, Elizabeth Warren. But each, in his or her own way is simply uninspiring.
We need a champion we can warm to, and we simply do not have one.
We need a champion who can strike a blow for us from which we can feel a vicarious vibration.
First, there is the problem of memory: Some 20 years after graduating, I traveled back to my high school, driving along Whittier Boulevard, block by block hurtling back toward those discouraging times, the scenes of so much defeat and disappointment, toward the hideous prefabricated school buildings of that high school, thinking about what a dark time high school was.
I was visiting to interview two kids from my high school who had applied to my college.
But as soon as I stepped into the building, I saw 15 year old girls in the familiar black/white/royal blue colors, pleated cheerleader skirts and white sweaters, bouncing up and down, excitedly flirting with boys in front of their lockers and I was immediately thrust back into that time and I thought, "God! How I loved this place! It was so much fun, just thrilling."
So there is that. The mutability of memory.
Now, you will say, sure, some memories are like that. But the memory of getting sexually molested or raped stays fixed, seared into your memory.
But then again, memory is a slippery thing.
And then there is the problem of time passing.
Outraged liberals have opened themselves up to the jibe coming from a Republican Congressman: "Have you heard? Ruth Bader Ginsberg just claimed she was groped by Lincoln!"
It may not be all that funny, but it is effective and you know that will resonate with a lot of people.
And there is the problem of the joy of victimhood, the "Me Too" movement with its self righteous certainly of moral superiority, in which an entire movement is dedicated to the proposition accusation is equivalent to conviction.
As liberals, progressives, socialists, whatever you want to call us, we have been compromising constantly. We have been trying to work up enthusiasm for Adam Schiff, Chuck Schumer, Corey Booker, Elizabeth Warren. But each, in his or her own way is simply uninspiring.
We need a champion we can warm to, and we simply do not have one.
We need a champion who can strike a blow for us from which we can feel a vicarious vibration.
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