Party of women

I’ve said it before, and I’ve taken a ration of guff for it. But I’m going to say it again anyway: Roy Moore is a creep.

I know this because non-creeps don’t compare themselves to the parents of our risen Lord to deflect charges that they carry torches for underage girls. Non-creeps also don’t cite Ringo Starr covers of old Johnny Burdette songs to justify acting like Jerry Lee Lewis.

But being kind of a creep is just kinda creepy.  It isn’t illegal. For that matter, neither is being a pig. Making crude remarks while sitting on a bus with a tabloid TV talking head makes you a pig, not a rapist. Given what we know about President Donald Trump’s life between the time he started slapping his name on everything in sight and taking the oath of office, I think we all know that he’s pretty porky. But if merely being a pig disqualifies you from the big time, and I’m not saying it shouldn’t, then a truckload of people need to head back to their sty well ahead of Moore and Trump.

Serial predator Bill Clinton, who enjoyed life as a political rockstar, treated women like backstage groupies at a Biggie Smalls show. Only now, as he passes the Viagra years, have the Democrats even considered examining the record of a man who gave us the gift of explaining “blue dresses” to our kids. To make matters worse, his chief enabler managed to sneak to within yards of the big chair in the White House. And she pulled it off despite being about as supportive of the women who ran across her husband as she was of the coal miners of West Virginia.

But the Clintons are yesterday’s news. Now, we get to confront Senator Al Franken. As Franken weakly explained in one of the — by my count — four different versions of why he got more than a little handsy with multiple women against their consent, “I respect women.” One of the leading lights of the party which tried to get a borderline sociopath elected by accusing her detractors of engaging in a “war on women,” Franken has an odd way of showing it. “I’m a warm person; I hug people.” Me too, Al. But my “hugs” don’t involve grabbing ass.

It appears Franken believes he will survive the swamping of his boat. The Senator has enjoyed a wave of support from his Hollywood friends.  Dozens of female writers at his old Saturday Night Live stomping grounds signed a letter exonerating him because he treated them with “respect and regard.” The implication there is that Franken’s accusers are lying. What happened to “sisters before misters?”

The depravity isn’t limited to the Senate. Over in the House, Representative John Conyers, who has represented the people of Michigan since before sexual harassment was a thing, is now looking at the business end of sexual harassment allegations that normally involve bad looks from the neighbors, if not outright restraining orders. This guy’s Congressional career predates Bill and Hillary’s love story… and, apparently, he’s spent most of it without wearing pants.

But even a hoary old perv like Conyers can build up a solid fan base over a half century moldering in the swamp. None other than House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi, the reigning champ in the “glass ceiling breaker’s club,” leapt to shield Conyers. “John Conyers is an icon in our country. He’s done a great deal to protect women…” Back in 2014, the same Madame Minority Leader tweeted: “#YesAllWomen deserve to live free from threats of domestic violence & sexual assault. We must shine a bright light on such despicable crimes.” I guess some restrictions apply to that first part. And before we shine any bright lights, someone make sure Ol’ Man Conyers pulls his drawers up.

The same people who think Trump should be impeached and Moore should be stuffed into a rocket and launched into the sun for their alleged “crimes” think of Clinton as an icon, Franken as a rising star and Conyers as a legend. Neither Trump nor Moore would be near the top of my list for nearly any high-level elected office. But compared to the boys from the “party of women,” they’re practically Boy Scouts; while the Democrats, the self-proclaimed “Party of Women,” are busy ogling the Girl Scouts.

— Ben Crystal

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