In the wake of disclosures in which he bragged about "moving" on a married woman like a "bitch" and grabbing women's genitals, Donald Trump spent this past weekend in his two favorite places.
One was the 60th floor Fifth Avenue penthouse in New York City that he calls home. Where he was holed up on Saturday and part of Sunday, surrounded by advisers and the faux city-scape used for his middle of the night "apology" on Facebook. The other was . . .
The gutter.
Where he spent most of Sunday.
We have never had a candidate like Trump. Or, if we have, they have kept it very-well hidden. Years ago, when I was a kid, Seven-Up ran ads calling itself the "un-cola." Trump is the un-candidate.
Un-embarrassable, un-repentant and un-moored.
After somewhere in the neighborhood of anywhere from twenty-four to forty-eight hours consulting his brain trust of Rudy, Bannon, Christie, Conway and The Kids, he decided that his implied if not explicit confession to sexual assault in 2005 was mere "locker room talk" for which he has now apologized and must be forgiven. As Republican after Republican finally abandoned the sinking ship that is his Presidential campaign, and as his own running mate called to inform him that he had to fly solo on this one, Trump dusted off the right-wing's old playbook and decided the only way to staunch the bleeding was to parade Bill Clinton's victims to a watching world before and during Sunday night's Presidential debate, the claim being that Hillary's decades-old defense of Bill now absolves The Donald of his own recent and present sins.
This is a new role for Hillary. She apparently can be turned into a forgiveness machine, some sort of priestess without portfolio, bearing the power to absolve perfect strangers of their sexual transgressions on account of the fact that she once absolved Bill of his.
Trump, of course, didn't put it quite this way. In his telling, his sins are forgiven because Hillary attacked Bill's ostensible "victims" and because his mere words are not in the same category as the former President's supposed acts. Of course, those "acts" (as well as the claim that Trump is guilty of mere "words") are more assumed than proven, especially the heinous claim that Bill Clinton raped Juanita Broaddrick thirty eight years ago. The only two people who know tell categorically different stories; there is no physical evidence that could corroborate the claim; no case was brought all those years ago; and Starr did not include those claims in his impeachment referral (though he shared his uncorroborated evidence with the House of Representatives). This does not mean Broaddrick is wrong, nor do the same lacuna in the cases of Paula Jones or Kathleen Willey make them wrong . But it does not make them right either.
And whether they are one or the other really has nothing to do with Hillary, who is the only Clinton now running for President.
Broaddrick asserts Hillary was effectively a participant in Bill's acts because Hillary thanked Broaddrick for helping Bill shortly after the attack, a thank you Broaddrick claims came with a look and a tone that scared her into silence. This too, however, is impossible to verify and, in any case, implausibly assumes that Bill Clinton confessed to his wife, not just that he was a cheater, but much, much more as well. And with Willey and Jones, there were no specific attacks on these women from Hillary Clinton. In fact, the closest one can come to a Hillary defense that may be out of bounds is her now famous claims that Monica Lewinsky was a "narcissistic loony toon" and Gennifer Flowers a failed cabaret singer, both of which fall short of the sort of "slut-shaming" victims justifiably abhor and society now condemns.
As I watched last night's debate, I actually felt sympathy for Hillary Clinton.
The reality here is that Hillary defended her husband without knowing the truth. He wasn't just lying to the rest of the world. He was lying to her as well. She was more (or as much) a victim than (or as) an enabler, and psychologists will tell you that even if she fell into the category of enabler, sweeping suspicion under the rug the way the spouse or children of alcoholics fashion survival out of denial, that does not make her less a victim.
It makes her human.
Something apparently lacking in Donald Trump.
Trump's charade last night was appalling. He took people who are hurting and turned them into props designed to shield him from the consequences of his own sexism. On Saturday, in that middle of the night Facebook post, he supposedly apologized for saying that, as a "star," he could "grab" women "by the p**y." By Sunday, however, that apology had been turned into a farce, reducing his comments first to mere locker room banter and then to claims that they were somehow less offensive given another female victim's sometimes false defenses of her husband's bad conduct.
Meanwhile, Trump himself has been accused of raping a thirteen year old and sexually assaulting Jill Harth, a one-time girl-friend, both would be victims who Broaddrick, Willey and Jones presumably believe if they are sincere in asserting that their own claims must be taken as true. The difference, of course, is that Harth and the thirteen year old are making rape and sexual assault claims against someone who actually is running for President. Broaddrick, Willey and Jones are not.
The essence of Trump is that his failures are always someone else's fault. Calling women fat slobs or pigs is Rosie O'Donnell's fault. Being called out on this conduct at the first GOP primary debate is Megyn Kelly's fault. And now, even the conduct he described to Billy Bush in the Access Hollywood tapes is someone else's fault.
Look closely at what he said. The run up is as important as the jarring use of the p-word: "You know, I’m automatically attracted to beautiful — I just start kissing them. It’s like a magnet. Just kiss. I don’t even wait. And when you’re a star,they let you do it.You can do anything."
"They let you do it."
The trope is as old as time. It's her fault.
Ten years ago, it was the fault of the women at the pageants or on the set. They let him do it.
Last night, in the twisted world Trump inhabits, his perversion was turned into the fault of . . .
The woman running against him for President.
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