Study their mothers to get to the roots of their misogyny

Men who are violent toward women, even those who simply hold them down while trying to have a few sexual thrills, even if they indignantly claim to be feminists while defending themselves against actual women with credible complaints against them, behave this way for a reason.   They felt traumatized, or abandoned, at some point in their early lives, by a woman who had power over them.  I would think that in most cases this woman was the boy’s mother.  This is not to blame the mother for raising a misogynist.   Sometimes the most harmful things a mother did were also very subtle, even done with love. Sometimes nothing the mother did or failed to do could have changed the outcome for the angry son.

My father’s mother, for example, whipped him in the face from the time he could stand.   This had an effect on my father’s personality — he tended to be dismissive of women most of the time.  He married a woman who pretty much worshipped him, his great intellect, his moral stance, his unshakably secure ego.   That last bit struck my sister and me as particularly hilarious, nobody was more shaken by a particular kind of challenge than our father.   Anyway, a guy who’d been whipped in the face by mom grew up to marry a very bright woman who believed the sun shone out of his ass.

Brett Kavanaugh, only child, often claims that his mother was his inspiration.  I believe him.  She was an ambitious woman who went to law school as the mother of a ten year-old, became a lawyer, a prosecutor, a judge.  Before that she taught in predominantly black public high schools and taught her son that racism was bad.   Pretty impressive.   All she expected from Brett (or perhaps only he expected it from himself) was the same kind of diligence and ambition, all the way to the Supreme Court.   

Kavanaugh claims to have been number one in his class at elite Georgetown Prep (number one?  smells more like number two to me…).    This claim is possible, I suppose, at least as plausible as his claim that he got so shit-faced he didn’t know what teams were playing at games he was at, so drunk he didn’t black out, just fell asleep, by drinking good old American beer. 

In senior year, he points out, when he was eighteen, it was legal in his state to drink beer.   He did it legally, after a few years of doing it illegally.  Beer.   He stated many times that he drinks beer, only beer.  Beer.  Who hasn’t been so drunk on beer they fell into a deep sleep after raving drunkenly, with no memory of any of it afterwards?  Beer is really pretty harmless, as everyone who has ever drank a couple of six-packs on a hot summer day knows, worst that will happen— you fall asleep.  That’s the only reason they don’t sell beer in stadiums after the fifth inning, they don’t want the fans falling asleep.  Now turn your head and let me piss in your other ear.

It is clear that Kavanaugh has a lot to hide.  He is hiding his extreme right wing views, his long pedigree as a strict partisan, hiding his right wing zealot resume, the thousands of questionable memos he wrote for Bush and Cheney before they rewarded him with a lifetime federal judgeship. 

It could not be more clear how much he has to hide after his defensive, tearful temper tantrum the other day during which he whined that he had to wait weeks, WEEKS, to find out if— yo, I have to quote this amazing talking turd in his own words, they are curiously vulnerable, childish words:

“When I at least did OK enough at the hearings that it looked like I might actually get confirmed, a new tactic was needed.”   (and the passive voice used)

What a fucking worm, what a victim.   Yes, at least OK enough that you deserve your lifetime appointment, no questions asked, no witnesses called.   The woman who remembers clearly that it was you testified credibly and convincingly.   It was clearly wrenchingly difficult for her to step forward.  You did nothing but double down on your denial, ratchet it up to 100% to match her 100% certainty that it was you.  Then, like the simple-minded partisan hack you are, you stood to deliver your indignant defense about the Clintons having it in for you.

The Supreme Court was my mommy’s one and only dream for her number one son!   How dare they?!!   


How dare this woman, Christine Blasey Ford step forward to accuse somebody of your sterling reputation, your impeccable credentials?  She may have had hard years learning to deal with the traumatic memory of the mocking laughter of you and your asshole friend Mark Judge after the two of you, allegedly, allegedly,  locked her in a room, turned up the music and had some fun she wasn’t on board with, but does that give her the right to step forward at the eleventh hour?   This seemed to be his point, that there was barely time to get fucking Mark Judge into hiding.  The fucking Clintons, the ruthless Democrats who call ME evil!!!  They did the same thing with Anita Hill, boom, sneak attack two days before the vote to confirm Clarence Thomas. 

They always do this shit, it’s what they do, keep in mind all the people the Clintons  murdered, starting with Vince Foster, and GOT AWAY WITH – THEY GOT AWAY WITH MURDER!    It’s why they must be permanently crushed, no matter what ethical shortcuts must be taken (and the passive voice used, to avoid, you dig, saying out loud that we are the ones taking ethical shortcuts).   This hearing has nothing to do with what I did or did not do one early evening when I was stinking drunk on beer, only beer, America’s favorite beverage.  This is about anger at our wonderful president and revenge by losers, fucking vicious losers.

I have to think the reason Kavanaugh was a black out drunk in high school, and a mean and aggressive one (the tendency shown even while sober, angrily defending his ruined ‘good name’ and raging against the machinations of his enemies, a cabal of well-funded, unprincipled weasels conspiring against his good name, ruining his life, traumatizing his family), while studying hard to be the number one student at Georgetown Prep, and going to church, and being of service to everyone, and having many close female friends, just friends he had beers with, and following in the good Christian footsteps of Ignatius of Loyola  (the Jesuits have since abandoned him, up there on his cross)– well, I have to think that Brett’s mom had something to do with it.  Quite possibly through no fault of her own, sometimes kids are just irrationally needy creatures that nobody could love enough.

Perhaps she was as demanding of Brett as she was of herself.   She expected even more of her only child than what she herself had achieved, which was considerable.   Imagine growing up in this household, with the pressure to do even better than your accomplished mom.   So, it stands to reason you need to blow off some steam from time to time, get shit-faced, hammered, so drunk you are visibly staggering.  A cute, younger girl comes in, goes upstairs to use the bathroom.  The parents aren’t home.  You and your drunk friend Mark, just as a goof, go upstairs push her into a bedroom across from the bathroom and lock the door. 

Nothing, so far, that any two drunken male high school assholes wouldn’t do.  The rest, the things that would sear themselves into the hippocampus of the young woman, traumatize her for decades to come, are things that only misogynistic drunken high school assholes do.  Throw yourself on top of her, grab her, rub against her.  Suddenly she starts to cry for help.  Fuck that, a meaty hand over her mouth will put an end to that!  The girl’s bathing suit, under her clothes, is what saved her from worse, Brett was too drunk to forcibly remove the bathing suit, keeping his other hand over her mouth as she struggled.   Oh, well!   Have a good laugh, go outside and ralph on the lawn.  Have you boofed yet?

It seems to me that in the cases of most rapey assholes, the uncontrollable misogyny at the root of that power-crazed behavior often comes from mom.   Not to say that all boys raised by difficult mothers grow up to hate women, but some do.   The extreme right wing partisan zealot Neil Gorsuch (Georgetown Prep, ’85), Trump’s first Supreme Court pick,  had a mother so powerful Ronald Reagan appointed her to head the Environmental Protection Agency, to make things a little more comfortable for his super-wealthy job creator friends who were being badly hurt by the hysteria over potential catastrophic climate change. 

Gorsuch’s mother was a powerful conservative ideologue with a mission.  You can only imagine the humane values young Neil imbibed with his mother’s powerful milk.   The results can be seen in his fair-minded, even-handed application of the laws, his unflinching instinct to protect the rights of those eternal “persons” who have been so unfairly oppressed in this great, deluded nation liberalism has brought to the edge of godlessness.

Perhaps the most obvious case is the misogyny of Donald J. Trump.   He rarely makes a peep about his sainted mother, in contrast to the many things he’s said about his father over the years.  Everyone knows his father was an overbearing, ruthless, larger than life asshole who reluctantly groomed his younger son for the job he’d hoped his oldest, Fred Jr., would take.   Fred Jr. was too nice a person, too decent a guy, by all accounts, and so Fred Christ Trump groomed the younger Donald, who had always exhibited the required meanness of spirit, to be his successor, inheritor of the great Trump Empire.  The wife and mother was at home, she had everybody’s backs.

Trump, in addition to his many fine attributes, his finest attributes, is clearly a cruel man.   He takes pleasure in humiliating others.   You want to know the roots of his cruelty toward women, which is as famous and often displayed as his cruelty toward blacks, Mexicans, the children of illegal immigrants and asylum seeks, Muslims and other rapist-types, look at his mother.

Fred Christ Trump’s father, the president’s grandfather, an immigrant from Germany, was a self-made wealthy man.   Fred Christ Trump took a small fortune and made it a much bigger fortune in the decades after his father died.  At some point he was looking for a wife.   A poor immigrant woman fresh off the boat from Scotland somehow caught his eye.   He married her.   She was a rich man’s wife, now rich herself.   She would put on a mink coat, have her driver take her in the limo to one of the Queens laundromats they owned.   She would collect the bags of quarters in that outfit.  Take them home and count them. 

Not much more is known about Trump’s mother, except for her proud professions that she always knew little Donald would grow up to be a great and important man, but I can only imagine he never received her love in the quantity needed.   His rigidity speaks to that, his insistence that he has never, ever, been wrong about anything, even his multiple bankruptcies were all the right moves, made after winning bigly.  

He makes a canned remark about his mother any time he is asked about her.  Identical words each time.  A great woman, a great, great woman.   Very smart woman, very smart.

Unsaid, of course, but hinted at like the artist of innuendo he is:  if any of my wives had been half as great as her, I wouldn’t have cheated on them, wouldn’t have divorced them after publicly humiliating them.  My mother was a saint.   My bad luck to marry a series of whores.  I can’t tell you how much money I’ve had to pay to these fucking bitches over the years, you wouldn’t believe it.

Trump’s misogyny is beyond dispute.  He treats men badly too, but he feels a special urgency to belittle women.   If you are reading this, Mr. President, I don’t blame you, not entirely.   You apparently had a pretty bad  mother, even though she arranged photo ops for you with a series of pretty models every weekend when she and dad visited you at the military academy they sent you to because they worried about your uncontrollable bullying.  That was the beginning of your Ladies’ Man brand, those photo ops with pretty girls hired to make you not look like the cringing bully douche-bag you’ve always been.   You were voted Ladies Man of your school by your all male classmates at the Maladjusted Sons of Wealthy Assholes Academy.

It is no mystery why Trump supports Kavanaugh.   Kavanaugh has changed his opinion on the accountability of a sitting president for ordinary civil and criminal prosecution.  As a zealous young Republican operative he believed with all his heart that a Democratic president who lies under oath about a blow job must be aggressively investigated, impeached, thrown out of office for the felony of perjury and then prosecuted for it and imprisoned, if possible.   A president like Trump?   He has such a hard job, the hardest job, the hardest job, a job that he can’t do well while burdened with civil and criminal investigations into his alleged conduct while he is the sitting president.   Kavanaugh writes in that tell-tale 2009 law review article that his views have changed a little, or evolved.  Wait,  I thought you twats don’t believe in evolution.   I’d say Kavanaugh’s views changed by Intelligent Design.

The larger reason that Trump is insisting on Kavanaugh as the only Supreme Court justice he wants, of course, is that Trump sees himself in the unfairly maligned Kavanaugh.  It’s always about The Donald, after all. Many people sincerely hate Trump, many women accuse him of things they can never prove 100%.   Women are always trying to attack Trump, according to him, because they are jealous, or simply liars, now there are three women falsely accusing Kavanaugh of the same kind of utter crap, this bitchy “she said, I said” slander.  All lies!  Thank God for the law in this great nation that says they have to prove it 100%!   100% you fucks!

Trump apparently told Kavanaugh to show some balls at the hearing, come out swinging, attacking, they can’t prove shit, they’re liars, a well-funded attack network of lying liberals propped up by a couple of freedom hating class traitor billionaires — blast ’em, Brett, with both goddamned barrels.   He defended the impeccable moral credentials of his nominee at a rare presidential press conference the night before the Blasey Ford testimony.   An object lesson in being a brazen alpha male.

Now, after Kavanaugh’s alpha bitch performance defending his “good name”,  he and Trump are definitely BFFs, two victimized wealthy white men, being unfairly held to the same standard as powerless Puerto Ricans, Mexicans, Blacks, poor whites who do– allegedly!– the same things to women that they’re accused of.   Those types go to prison behind the same charges we have to face down, Brett.  See, it pays to be a rich white guy with mad connections to powerful people, LOL!  Am I right, Brett?  Am I right?

Kavanaugh’s victims, ALLEGED victims, well, he’s very sorry that they had some kind of traumatic experience they mistakenly recall he was involved in, things he has 100% no recollection of, but that he is, at the same time, 100% sure never happened, not him.  100% positive.   The gold standard of irrefutable rebuttal, 100% certainty, just like Christine Blasey Ford.  These women may believe they are being truthful, but they are the tools of liars.

It is because I have always been an unwavering far-right partisan that these false allegations have been orchestrated by a powerful group of well-organized, well-funded rabidly liberal enemies.  By bitches.  I treat ALL women with dignity and respect, even these lying ones intent on destroying my reputation as a pious and humble church-going Christian on the cusp of fulfilling a lifelong dream, my mother’s and mine.   SO UNFUCKING FAIR!!!   Arrrgggghhhhh!!!!!

Kavanaugh’s mother and father sat in the small audience in the Senate hearing room during his passionate, petulant rebuttal.  I wonder if Judge Martha Kavanaugh was as proud of her boy as Trump’s mother always publicly pretended to be of her troubled son Donald. 

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