Blaming the Victim

A White House secretary whose name no one knew a week ago resigns. He is accused of wife beating. It’s Pres. Trump’s fault, of course. The accusers are two ex-wives. That’s a first, I guess, I mean this joint effort. One of the two immediately loses her credibility with me because she accuses the man, Porter, of “emotional” abuse. Sorry, that ‘s what you say when you have nothing else, when you have nothing, in fact.

What did he do? Tell that ex-wife that this pair of jeans made her look fat? Besides, all the women I know except one routinely practice emotional abuse, often, multi-directional emotional abuse. (No, the exception is not my wife!) They are emotionally abusive toward one another first, toward their children, often. Of course, they emotionally abuse the men in their lives, to get them to comply, or for the fun of it.

What does an accusation of abuse directed by a woman at a man, specifically, imply? I think it’s that women are un-adults who need protection, that they are not capable of agency. That’s both troubling and confusing for those of us who have been paying attention to the feminist message of female equality. OK, it’s not confusing to me. I always thought women were equal (Read my book of memoirs of growing up: I Used to Be French: an Immature Autobiography – Excerpts on this blog – It’s available on Amazon.) And, I discounted feminist propaganda from the beginning. I have a fine ear for ungrounded ideology because I grew up around French leftists.

I am not sure why physical abuse of a spouse is a public matter the way this kind of story has routinely become. Brutality against a spouse is either a conjugal matter and it’s none of my business, or it’s a legal matter. In that case, it should be dealt with in the context of strict judicial rules that are the product of centuries of experience. It should be dealt with far from the tumult of popular prejudice and fads. Note that whether a conjugal issue becomes a legal issue is almost entirely in the hands of  the injured party. That’s different from zero protection for women. This is no a sharia country. (I know, I know, sharia gives women some protection, not much. Tell us, please.)

It turns out, the secretary who resigned was (is) currently in a relationship with the second most glamorous woman in the White House.(The first is the First Lady, of course.) That woman is also quite beautiful according to my well-exercised eye. She must not be a dummy to have been appointed Director of Communication, a sensitive, important post. Porter, the man who resigned, has been married at least twice. Washington DC being the incestuous swamp that it is, there must have been rumors about his personality.

Didn’t stop the glamorous lady. Have we seen this movie before? The alleged wife-beater has enough charisma with women that one with many choices chooses him over all others. Intellectually honest women will ask themselves in the secret of their hearts why and how this could happen. I don’t expect a public report because the New Puritanism does not permit the exploration of many interesting matters, including the sexuality of women. Younger people who read me – almost all of you – take my word for it or do your own research: There was more freedom of thought and more freedom of speech in 1978 a than there is is 2018.

What happened?

Under the current avalanche of accusations against men, some too exotic for me to really believe, there lies the blanket assumption that one should never, never blame the victim. Incidentally, the accusations I have trouble dealing with concern the legion of men who supposedly exposed themselves. I thought that was a far-outlayer specialty, not an ordinary practice. I am as much of the pervert as the next guy, I hope a little more, or I used to be, but it never crossed my mind to do this. (Except for a laugh, at a well-attended party,  in a fully lit room ,of course, perhaps, on the occasion of a context with an all-female jury.) Never blame the victim. Why never?

My neighbor is one of Mrs Clinton’s “deplorables.” He spends the weekends in his undershirt, drinking beer from a can and playing with his several guns. One Sunday morning, he is cleaning his high-power rifle. While holding the stock with his bare foot, he opens the breach and looks down into the barrel to make sure there is not bullet inside. The stock slips, his big toe catches the trigger and he blows his head up. (Yes, there was a round in the barre; it was loaded for bear) Who to blame, deuh?

One night after dark, I am driving home peacefully, below the speed limit. I am not especially tired and I am wearing my glasses. I am travelling the steep downward slope close to my house where there is no street lighting. A skateboarder running down the same slope at high speed weaves in front of me. When I see him, I brake as hard as I can but I am too late. I partly run over him and my truck fractures his skull and his spine. He was wearing all black; there was no light on him; he was in the middle of the street. He is 23. I am heartbroken. Who is to blame?

I am going to be accused of major crimes for shouting through the current concert of feminist piousness so, let me be clear: I do NOT believe that women who wear short skirts deserve to be raped. And, by the way, I am against domestic violence and especially against wife beating specifically. That’s because men are much stronger than women, not a little bit, something like twice stronger. So, for a man, beating a woman is cowardly. And, by the way, it’s also one of the reason why I support the Second Amendment. Women who are armed rarely get beaten more than once.


About Jacques Delacroix

I write short stories, current events comments, and sociopolitical essays, mostly in English, some in French. There are other people with the same first name and same last name on the Internet. I am the one who put up on Amazon in 2014: "I Used to Be French: an Immature Autobiography" and also: "Les pumas de grande-banlieue." To my knowledge, I am the only Jacques Delacroix with American and English scholarly publications. In a previous life, I was a teacher and a scholar in Organizational Theory and in the Sociology of Economic Development. (Go ahead, Google me!) I live in the People’s Green Socialist Republic of Santa Cruz, California.
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