The Eternal

I know my own liabilities, and still sometimes they come springing back into consciousness with a jolt.

I am a coward. I cringe at pain, mine and others. I feel weak at the sight of blood, and fear makes me helpless at times. I know guilt when I am unable to provide assistance.

Yet I love mysteries and who dun its, and I am addicted to crime stories. An enigma I admit.

So last evening I had no hesitation watching the highly touted interview with the esteemed Judge accused of ugly behavior.

Midway I knew I shouldn’t have turned this interview on at all

I saw a man who was shattered, and I could not give comfort. I literally felt his pain.

He shared a sexual history that belongs only to him and his wife. I was embarrassed that he was forced into sharing such intimacy.

As I sat in front of my TV, I did not see an esteemed juror and his complacent spouse. I saw a disaster with two pilgrims bleeding on the side of the road without any good samaritans nearby.

I watched two people open a sexual window of their lives to all of America. The privacy that was invaded will never be regained, and jokes will emerge about his professed virginity for decades.

His admission provided material to late night hosts for several seasons. As a matter of fact, one mentioned part of the defendant’ s anatomy last evening on a highly rated program . I remembered the gladiators of yore and the crowds cheering when I read about it this morning. Even my comforting cup of black coffee tasted sour.

The issue that seemed to be paramount yesterday no longer has pariority for me..

Rather I wonder instead how much damage not only to reputation but psyche is our national right to inflict. In this instance I believe that both the press and the nation’s intrusion into two people’s intimate lives has caused harm that will ever linger.

While the camera did not record blood as he sat there with the woman who has shared his life for 17 years, there was no doubt of their pain and suffering. They will never look out at the world again with the confidence and comfort that was theirs only six weeks ago.

Rather the viewers watched two people with young children who are emotionally wounded. It was not pleasant and I regret watching a disaster where I was unable to provide assistance. Then I wondered isn’t there a better way? When accusations are made, do we have to make them public before confirmation of validity.

Is it necessary to make a national Mea culpa before the accuser is seen in public? Is this a form of national voyourism?

I don’t know if the gentleman is guilty or not. I do know that I saw a human being, or rather two, last evening who are scarred for life.

Their world has been destroyed, and like the fabled Humpty Dumpty’s wall, it will never again be intact.

And again, the question remains does the end ever justify the means?