Thursday, November 10, 2011

Joe Phwwwwww

As most anyone who has had it can attest, sex can be a wonderful, thrilling experience.  It can be procreational or recreational, either way. Or both. 

But it should only be between two people who are there in the room or car or phone booth, whatever, because they want to be, because they are of age to make the decision to bop, and because there is no one else in some other room somewhere who would justly be hurt by all the hobblin' going on here. 

Which means that if you're some big business big shot and a woman comes up to you asking for help in finding work, you really need to keep your mitts off her lingerie, and that's all I am going to say about that for now.

Because I am all steamed about this Penn State football situation.  OK, straight up: I am not a fan of Penn State football, if only because their longtime coach Joe Paterno won't allow any sort of logo, decoration, name or embellishment of any sort whatsoever on their helmets, jerseys, pants and socks.  He is absolutely dead-set against any form of caparison, any trim or doo-dad of any sort.  Just a lot of blue, and white, oh and the Nike® logo, of course.  Got to pay homage to the people who supply the jerseys, pants, shoes and socks. 

That's the sort of thing I really don't like: the saying of one thing and the doing of another.  But that's a trivial matter, and it's his football team; he can dress them as he sees fit.

But when one of his assistant coaches likes having sex with little boys, and then sets up a charity group which in effect serves to supply a veritable cornucopia of young males, and then is seen having some sickening action with an underaged victim in the shower room of the state-owned football building on campus, and someone sees this and tells the beloved old coach...he ought to be able to say more than, "Well, I told my boss about it..."  Again, sex.  Had this been some linebacker and his of-age girlfriend doing it in the shower room, hey, go get a room, but no foul.  That's their business.  The defensive coordinator doing unspeakable things with boys, you hear about that, you scream long and loud until he's put away where he belongs.

It's interesting to read the opinions expressed in the Harrisburg newspaper because the sides are split cleanly.  Lots of people say that Paterno, lovingly called "JoePa" up there in Happy Valley, PA, did all that he had to by telling his boss.  Surely, there was no need to do more.  Why, calling the police would have just resulted in a lot of bad publicity, and then that would have hurt the reputation of the football team and its coach...

Just as it's doing now, only with twelve added years of shame.

If you're a regular reader and/or a friend of mine, you know how I feel about law and order, and how people ought to pay for their misdeeds.  No young boy from reduced circumstances ought to have to live in a world in which some old pervert can set up the Second Mile Foundation so that he can indulge his sickening predilection with them. 

And no true leader knows about that sort of thing going on right in his own football building and sweeps it under the rug by telling some "boss," when the truth is, JoePa himself is the boss on that campus.  He should have said something.  He chose not to, and he hung around and set records for most games coached, and most games won, and I don't know what-all else. That seemed to matter more to him than how those young little boys were feeling, being molested by this monster Sandusky.  

So many people saw this man as a great coach, leader, molder of men.  Now they find out that he placed winning the Capital One Bowl above reporting the satanic activities of his trusted assistant.   

Paterno was one phone call away from being a good man. One call from doing the right thing.  Now he says he will pray for those young men.  

Oh. NOW he's going to help.  Sorry for waiting twelve years, fellas; I had to get ready for the Outback Bowl.

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