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“Subject: you’re (sic)
article on Judith Levine. YOU CLOSED MINDED (EXPLETIVE)!!! Your
horrendously slanted article about Judith Levine leads me to believe
that you are a bad person in general. (DEEPLY PERSONAL EXPLETIVE).
I HATE YOU. – Sincerily (sic), someone who is a much better person
than you."
“Yikes! I would wish you a
nice day, but I fear what that would involve. – Brent Morrison."
“Yeah well you
sicken me, so what else is there to say?” –
Recent email correspondence
That pretty
much sums it up all right. I knew columnists didn’t have fan clubs
when I took this gig, and it certainly isn’t for the thin-skinned.
You never know how people will react; I have angered folks with
trivial throwaway lines and drawn yawns with pieces I thought would
get me bounced to the back of the classifieds.
So what has
my spelling-impaired friend’s socks in such a knot? Aside from
editing the profanities, I spared the printer a little ink by paring
down the exclamation points (I counted 56 in the original). I’ve
had more than a few exclamation points thrown my way but this is a
personal best.
Judith
Levine, the subject of the column that inspired this little
exchange, might best be described as a pedophile rights advocate.
Her book “Harmful to Minors: The Perils of Protecting Children from
Sex,” argues that sex between adults and children, even small
children, is normal and healthy.
“Pedophiles
are not generally violent, unless you are using the term ‘sexual
violence against children’ in a moral, rather than a literal, way,”
Levine claims, asserting people only believe otherwise out of
prudishness. She questions whether “so-called pedophiles” even
exist, implying pedophilia is just a variant of the normal human sex
drive. Accordingly, she believes, we should not be quick to judge.
Fringe
groups like the North American Man/Boy Love Association have peddled
this nauseating nonsense for years, passing themselves off as an
oppressed and misunderstood minority – precisely the point my pen
pal was trying to make by calling me “closed minded.” They haven’t
had much luck, though one of the more troubling aspects of Levine’s
book is that it was published by University of Minnesota Press.
It’s not exactly Oxford, but it did lend an unfortunate air of
respectability.
I wrote the
column on “Harmful to Children” at the time of its publication in
April; my secret admirer apparently ran across it on the Internet.
My guess is that he found it while using a search engine; unless I
miss my hunch he was horribly disappointed, which might account for
his crankiness.
How one
explains his apparent sexual practices is another matter. I don’t
mean to offend, but … oh, heck with it. I don’t give a rat’s rump
if I offend. Pedophilia is not normal. Pedophiles are not
oppressed, at least no more than they should be, nor are they
misunderstood. And this is not a civil rights issue, which I
foresee as the next logical tactic in the campaign to normalize this
perversion in the public’s eye.
Pedophilia
is despicable, the worst kind of exploitation of the innocent and
defenseless to slake one’s own desires. I don’t care if it’s inborn
or learned, and neither do the children damaged. I do take issue
with laws that make it overly difficult for pedophiles to seek
professional help, but if Levine and her fans slither into even the
outer edge of the mainstream there will be still less incentive.
It’s foolish
to think it can’t happen. Sexual and other mores have fallen away
to the point where just about the only thing that’s taboo is
taboos. For the sake of children and the adults they will become,
this is one we can’t let go.
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