The past 12 months has been a golden period for sex scandals, especially political sex scandals. As I write this, the state of New York is recovering from having former Gov. Eliot Spitzer join the long list of contemporary politicians who have had their careers flushed away by charges of sexual misconduct and the prurient media feeding frenzy that automatically ensues. In addition, New York had to cope with a second round of revelations that Spitzer's replacement, Lt. Gov. David Paterson, admitted up front that both he and his wife had engaged in extramarital affairs.
My first response to the Spitzer scandal was amazement that anyone was surprised. We all know by now that politicians (especially the defenders of supposed decency) frequently are dogs, hookers are rented, spouses are betrayed, and blowjobs are accepted from interns across the political spectrum. The recent roster of dallying lawmakers is so extensive - David Vitter, Randall Tobias, Mark Fowley and Don Sherwood, to name just a few in addition to Spitzer - that no one should be surprised.
If we look at history, both ancient and modern, the trail of indiscretion leads back through Newt Gingrich, Bill Clinton and John F. Kennedy, as well as Warren G. Harding and Thomas Jefferson, if we want to go that far. That the New York Post should react to Spitzer's disgrace by devoting its entire front page to a coyly topless photo of Ashley Dupré, the hooker Spitzer paid $4,300 for services rendered, hardly is a shocked reaction. The Post's luridly righteous indignation is, in fact, nothing more than sensational hypocrisy.
My second response to a sex scandal like the one that brought down Spitzer is smug superiority. I have been writing for AVN Online for years now, keeping up a nonjudgmental commentary on the wicked ways of the Internet porn industry. Acquaintance with adult entertainment makes one very aware that all levels of society are busily engaged in all manner of erotic shenanigans, and those who aren't actually doing anything are at least watching it on a DVD or computer. I don't care. More power to them. The more unashamed sexuality is brought out into the light of day, the less easy it becomes to accept the moral outrage and sanctimonious viciousness that hang over our culture like a toxic cloud.
I have come to believe that the less one is able to share the popular media mix of imposed guilt and morbid preoccupation, the better one feels. Break free of the pop hypocrisy, and one can even listen to the stories about George W. Bush and how our supposedly born-again president's past is not without whiffs of scandal - like the criminal rape complaint by Margie Schoedinger and the allegations of an affair with former stripper Tammy Phillips - without being consumed by shock and awe. However, I will admit that it's harder to deal with the ends of these tales, in which Schoedinger kills herself and Phillips simply disappears.
Don't get me wrong: I had no sympathy for Eliot Spitzer as he stood in front of the TV cameras, flanked by his grim wife, admitting his transgressions and tendering his resignation. His expensive, tawdry sex life was none of my business. I have no sympathy for Spitzer because he walked one way and talked another. He publicly claimed to be fighting the good fight for moral values, but he privately forked over thick wedges of cash to hire young women to do heaven only knows what to him. In theory, he wanted to arrest and imprison the same girls with whom he was having so much big-ticket fun. It's so damned twisted that it's where my disgust kicks in.
Mick Farren blogs at Doc40.Blogspot.com.
This article originally appeared in the June 2008 edition of AVN Online. To subscribe, visit AVNMediaNetwork.com/subscriptions.
