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Friday, October 31, 2014
Does Pat Robertson Wear A Hockey Mask And Kill Teen Campers?
It would be irresponsible of me to definitively answer the question I posed in the title. I just don't know. It's hard to say whether Pat Robertson, living as he does in southern Virginia, even owns a hockey mask. I don't have evidence that proves - conclusively proves - Mr. Robertson spends his warm summer evenings crouching in the bushes outside rustic cabins fondling a machete as he listens to the furtive sounds of young people exploring each other's bodies so that he can butcher them afterwards.
I won't claim to know any of this.
Is Pat Robertson obsessed with transgressive sexuality? Yes. Is he a kind of Lars Von Trier figure, telling lurid stories to scared old white people so they can be filled with disapproval and secret arousal? Of course he is. Does he keep a girl in a makeshift dungeon somewhere in North Carolina? We just don't have all the facts.
Does it seem like Marion Gordon Robertson talks more about steamy, sinful man-on-man action than you'd expect a completely straight person to do? Possibly. And does this seem like a common feature of older social conservatives? Who could judge? But that does not mean Pat Robertson has a bright red PVC suit that he wears as he's waylaying young men in the forests around the Regent University complex, tying them up for a series of hideous games that explore the outer boundaries of pain and pleasure. Not necessarily.
Just because a development prompts questions - a whole hell of a lot of questions - doesn't mean you should reach for the first answer you can find. To take a (completely) random example... even if the origin of the universe is shrouded in mystery that wouldn't mean you should believe the explanation found in just any collection of creepy desert scrolls. No. The unknown should prompt debate and rational investigation. It's not there to be filled with wild speculative claims.
We know this much: Pat Robertson takes an obvious pleasure from reciting the violent and disturbing details from an old book of horror stories he clearly cherishes. There is something wrong with him, yes. And with whoever wrote that thing.
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