All too frequently, I wonder whether I’ve somehow taken up residence in the Twilight Zone, or in one of Salvador Dalí’s paintings.
Today, for example, I came under attack elsewhere for my supposed criticism of Elizabeth Smart on Friday. I was, it seems, very harsh toward an innocent victim, and, in my post, as I typically do, I behaved like a “jerk.” (I’m not reproducing the more unsavory descriptors that were actually applied to me.) It’s my cruel, vicious writing, I was told, as exemplified in that blog post, that has led discerning people around the world to hate me.
(I had thought that I was — gently, obliquely, and without even naming them — criticizing people who, seemingly for their own agendas, had distorted what Ms. Smart, now actually Ms. Gilmour, had said. That seems to me a form of abuse. But no, I was attacking the victim. And, then, by replying that I had been grotesquely misrepresented, I was compounding my crime by illegitimately trying to claim her genuine status as a victim for myself.)
Moreover, also today, elsewhere on this blog, I’ve come under criticism for my silly supposition that Cuba is an oppressive, totalitarian regime whereas the United States isn’t.
I have a Cuban daughter-in-law, born in Havana, and I was deeply involved in the Elizabeth Smart case (for both Brian David Mitchell’s competency hearing and his kidnapping trial) and I think very highly of my daughter-in-law, her extended family, Elizabeth Smart, and her family. But no matter, I’m a bad guy, and, even when I don’t actually say bad things, they can still be recognized between the lines in the penumbra of the implication of things that I haven’t really said. And no denial on my part can erase those invisible, inaudible thought crimes.