CSotD: A whole case of the Mondays
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There are all sorts of Harvey Weinstein cartoons floating around at the moment, but a lot of them miss the point.
Or, at least, they miss my point. Oddly enough, my point was served up on a silver platter by happenstance in the form of today's Vintage Juliet Jones, which originally ran July 21, 1960, when I was ten years old.
My point being that Harvey and I grew up in the same time period, which doesn't excuse his pathological behavior, but it might help explain it a little.
The strip is a perfect example of what the SJW's call "rape culture," in which we are taught that, if you persist, if you insist, you'll find that indifference turns to romance.
The phrase, "You know you want it," however despicable, did not arise out of a vacuum.
And, when I say "we" grew up in it, I mean "we" all did, because it wasn't something solely handed out in locker rooms.
Granted, men's magazines like Esquire and Playboy were full of cartoons of secretaries being chased around the desk and more overt gags about sexual assault, but the concept that "no" means "try again" was pervasive, and both boys and girls grew up surrounded by it.
It wasn't just Playboy. It was everything, everywhere.
And it's not just the obvious stuff, either, like having truly brilliant guitar work wrapped around the ghastly lyric "Down by the river, I shot my baby."
We'd sung about murdering our lovers for more than a century before that one came along, and even Joan Baez recorded an example of those early songs.
And then there were all the movies where the hero grabs the leading lady, kissing her until she stops struggling and embraces him.
It has long been there, in every genre, at every level of quality.
(And here's an odd little cultural history spoiler: In "The Sheik," Valentino abducts the girl and forcefully makes her love him, but in the end we discover that it's okay, because it turns out he's an adopted Spaniard and not an Arab after all. White guys are allowed to do that stuff.)
And pop music going back however far you want to go back has featured male lyricists putting words into the mouths of female singers.
A large part of what made "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?" (Carole King) and "You Don't Own Me" (Lesley Gore) and "Don't Come Home a-Drinking, With Loving On Your Mind" (Loretta Lynn) stand out was that they cut through the veil of men writing for women.
Then again, Lesley Gore also recorded "Maybe I Know," about putting up with a tomcatting boyfriend, and "Judy's Turn To Cry," the female-written sequel to the male-written "It's My Party."
One night I saw them kissing at a party, so I kissed some other guy.
Johnny came up and he hit him, 'cause he still loves me, that's why!"
That cruel bit of manipulation clunked with "other guys" at the time, but the song reached #5, so there ya go.
Yeah, I know: #NOTALLGIRLS
At least Juliet Jones still thinks the guy is a creep (let's hope – tune in tomorrow).
Speaking of creeps
Here's a wonderful illustration — I hesitate to limit it to "cartoon" — by Ann Telnaes, depicting, as she says, our fall down the rabbit hole.
There has been chit-chat about how going to the Internet frees cartoonists from the traditional, print-based formats, and this is a particularly fine example of what can be done beyond the four-panel cartoon strip gag or the 7×5 editorial cartooning box.
Of course, in the original story, after a momentary panic, Alice floated down the hole, while it's plain here that Uncle Sam isn't having the same dreamlike experience, nor can he expect the same gentle landing when we hit bottom.
Its atmosphere of despair could almost have been set up here as a Juxtaposition of the Day with Drew Sheneman's piece, which laments the need to keep our petulant, ignorant, irrational president distracted and away from the reins of power.
Sheneman is only illustrating the stories filtering out of the White House, which indicate that, as Bob Corker suggested, there are a few people acting as a firewall between The Donald and disaster, and that we'd better not only wish them luck but hope they stick around …
… which in turn means Sheneman's piece could have been a Juxtaposition of the Day with Kirk Walters.
I've worked for a guy who never listened to anyone, and it was maddening and frustrating and infuriating, but I couldn't quit because I had a family to support and, unlike the fellow in this cartoon, I didn't have something excellent as an alternative.
Then again, my boss didn't have nuclear arms at his disposal, only the futures of the people who worked for him.
Here's an optimistic note, however: I caught him as he was flaming out. He'd come to us from a high spot in a major corporation, but it became obvious why.
Not only had he lost that job, but within a year, he'd blown up his marriage and a few years after I left, I heard his drinking got to the point where he was fired from our little company, too, and went off somewhere else, I suppose. Or he took "early retirement."
I suppose we can hope for a similar outcome here, but, really, hoping for a deus ex machina solution seems pretty weak.
Because, in the meantime, as Matt Davies notes, we've got a lickspittle Congress that is happy enough to have someone in the White House, however unqualified, irresponsible, volatile and dangerous, who will help them put forth an agenda that brings us back to the place where we began today:
Our culture is infused with bland, uncaring injustice based on power and the sorts of people who feel the need to wield it.
And lopping off a single Harvey — or even a single Donnie — isn't going to kill that monster.
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