In the wake of the Access Hollywood "bomb", this election story - GOP Voters Want The Party To Stand By The Donald - confused me.
Until I performed a little self-research.
And repulsion followed.
I love Charlie Chaplin movies. For all kinds of reasons.
It might be in large part due to the fact that in my younger/more hopeful days, I regularly passed the old Chaplin Studios location on La Brea in Los Angeles.
Beyond that, the dude was a genius performer and genius filmmaker. As far as I can tell, Chaplin and Kubrick are at the tippy top of my own personal best-of-the-auteur heap.
Where it counts, when it comes to personal actions, moral decisions, what to do with your junk and who to include in those junk-decisions, Chaplin stunk up the joint. He sucked. He was akin to that old Hustler stalwart Chester the Molester.
There is little point in recounting what The Donald said. But what confounded me were his supporters standing by him, even after the release of the damning 2005 comments.
Until I realized even though I know Chaplin was a child rapist, I still hold his creative output in the highest esteem. And I shouldn't. But I do. But I shouldn't. But I do.
Chaplin is a product. The Donald is a product. Same way sausage is a product. And for years and years, I ate sausage. I didn't care what went into it. It was delicious. And then I began to actually value the lives of pigs. And so it changed. And now the only sausage I'll eat is plant-based. The same change should apply knowing what I know about Chaplin.
It could be that since Chaplin is dead, and the girls and young women he inflicted himself upon are dead, I don't feel a moral responsibility to cleave him from my realm of high achievers. His is a sausage fixed forever in space and time.
Which is bullshit. It only proves I am weak. It only proves that I am as loathe as all potential voters out there to admit my product has issues, is woeful/prosecutable in the way it exploits women, but I already fell in love with it. I willingly blind myself to the monster and slouch beneath the comforting weight of his mighty tentacles.