Friday, September 28, 2018


Despite the angry denials, the tears of apparent frustration, pain, embarrassment, the accusations of a witch hunt, Brett Kavanaugh failed to answer the single most critical question raised: why had she chosen him?

Had Dr. Ford demonstrated any history of aberrant behavior, of psychosis, of obsession? Did her background provide even a hint of any animus toward her alleged perpetrator, any rationale for her present actions, any predicate at all for what we were witnessing? 

If there was any basis to suspect that Dr. Ford had motive or incentive to take herself on this journey into Hell or that she suffered from bizarre delusions, I did not learn of it yesterday. What I heard, what we all heard, was a woman 100 per cent certain of the attack and the attacker. 

And no matter the outrage of Mr. Graham, no matter the loud protest of Mr. Kavanaugh directed at the Clintons, at the Democrats seeking revenge for their stunning 2016 election debacle, at the unstated elephant in the room, the loss of the seat rightfully belonging to Merrick Garland, none of this could adequately explain why this trembling woman had come forward. 

Did Mr. Kavanaugh plant the seeds of reasonable doubt with his notes from 1982 (although that July 1 entry did raise interesting possibilities), with his spit out the words statements that his admitted love of beer to the point of puking could never lead to a moment such as the one detailed, with his adamant denunciation of others who had recently come forward with their own wild tales of his wrongdoing? For the 51 Republicans looking for a reason to approve the nominee, the answer is undoubtedly yes.

And thus, by implication, we as a nation will be told that Dr. Ford was not credible, or at least not credible enough. 

It has been a sad moment in the history of our democracy as we stagger under the weight of the presidency of Mr. Trump. And yesterday it just got a little sadder. 

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