No Moore

Leigh Korfman

Like Leigh Korfman, I have been reluctant to address the matter of Roy Moore. Frankly, it shouldn’t have been necessary to expose this particular disgusting behavior – not when his own words and deeds should have long ago condemned him to the obscurity and ignominy he so richly deserves.

But alas, Moore’s homophobia, blatant disregard for the rule of law, and religious fanaticism were not enough to disqualify him in the hearts and minds of voters in Alabama. And so, at considerable personal risk, Korfman and others have come forward with charges not so easily ignored as his pursuit of Christian sharia.

Moore has been exposed as a likely molester of at least one fourteen-year-old girl. While that charge is not likely to be proven, what is blatantly obvious from the testimony of several women, who were teenagers at the time, is that as an adult in his thirties, Roy Moore had a predilection – if not an obsession, with dating (at least) girls half (or less) his age.

Their testimony has now been confirmed by Teresa Jones, a colleague of Moore’s, at the time:

“It was common knowledge that Roy Moore dated high school girls; everyone we knew thought it was weird. We wondered why someone his age would hang out at high school football games and the mall … but you really wouldn’t say anything to someone like that.”

Roy Moore

What kind of a grown man is obsessed with young girls? A sick man … a very sick man. There’s a name for that sickness; it’s called the Lolita Complex, after the book and movie Lolita. Other movies, including Manhattan, Last Tango in Paris and American Beauty, also dealt with this touchy subject, a subject usually whispered about only in private – if at all, but now brought into the open by the distinct possibility Roy Moore, a man who appears to have suffered from that disorder, may be the next US senator from Alabama.

Moore and his apologists have tried to dismiss the accusations against him as fake news or a political witch-hunt, while paradoxically and simultaneously decrying the events as old news, mere youthful indiscretions that happened – if at all – forty years ago. And in the next breath, Moore resorts to the last refuge of a scoundrel caught with his pants down, so to speak:

“I don’t recall.”

Moore and Trump

This is, of course, a particular difficult time to be caught with your pants down, so to speak, what with news of sexual predations of Cosby, Weinstein, Ailes, O’Reilly, et al. While these men are accused of a variety of sexual predations – and some have paid a king’s ransom to keep their accusers quiet, none have been accused of sexual assault of a minor – a least not so far.

The same can’t be said for Donald Trump, who was accused of a raping a then thirteen-year-old girl. That case was scheduled for trial in December of 2016, but for reasons still not explained, the case was dropped. Some suspect a pay-off.

Trump also confessed to assaulting numerous women in the infamous Access Hollywood tape, and more than a dozen women came forward to accuse him of exactly the crimes he confessed to on that tape. He also admitted to ogling half-naked teen contestants in his beauty pageants; and perhaps most damning of all, he once leered to Howard Stern on the air that he’d like to “date” his own daughter.

Why bring all this up? Because in spite of the fact the rape case was still pending … in spite of admitting to being a serial sexual assaulter, a peeping Don, and a father with incestuous impulses … in spite of those facts, Donald Trump was elected president in November of 2016.

Given that sad fact, it is certainly possible, if not probable, that the citizens of Alabama will elect a known, or at least suspected, child molester to the US Senate in a few weeks. If that happens, America will be one step closer to Steve Bannon’s wet dream – the deconstruction of the administrative state and the imposition of the dystopic future portrayed in Margaret Atwood’s chilling book The Handmaid’s Tale.

Let us hope voters in Alabama instead do the right thing and just say “No Moore.”

©2017 Tom Cordle

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