Why, hello there, dear reader! Fancy seeing you here after all this time. I had all the best intentions of maintaining this or some other blog when I got home from France, but I’m no good at keeping promises to myself (and we all know what they say about good intentions…)
Today, though, I was inspired to dig this dear diary out of its place in the cyber attic and blow the dust off its html-bound cover to revisit one of my favorite news topics (and least favorite people) of the past year: Dominique Strauss-Kahn.
As my most faithful readers may remember from this ancient post, I was impassioned by the case against DSK and dismayed by my impression of the general French public’s response. To jump to his defense, I still believe, is to permit rape culture.
Those original charges of rape were dropped because the plaintiff lacked credibility. Shortly thereafter, a completely different set of rape charges against DSK (this time in France) were also dropped. Today DSK found himself and his questionable character in the limelight yet again. This time, he’s being questioned regarding his connection to a prostitution ring as police investigate orgies with escorts who may have been paid with embezzled funds.
Now I don’t know about you, but if I were going to arrange an orgy, I would pay the escorts with my own damn money.
Whether or not DSK is guilty of any of the charges against him–a person is, for better or worse, innocent until proven guilty!–can we all just agree that the guy’s a D-bag?
But as it turns out, even DSK isn’t the biggest DSK-bag in his life. No, this year’s DSK-bag award goes to his lawyer, Henri Leclerc., who said the following on record:
“He could easily not have known, because as you can imagine, at these kinds of parties you’re not always dressed, and I challenge you to distinguish a naked prostitute from any other naked woman.”
Oh right, you can always tell a clothed prostitute from any other clothed woman.
This quotation is offensive on at least 423 levels, so I’ll just skip the soap box and get right to the moral of the story: The next time you find yourself at a lavish orgy, pause to clarify that the naked women aren’t escorts–but if they are, at least be sure that your host didn’t embezzle the money to pay them.