RE: Slanderous Article
When Senator Joseph McCarthy recklessly attacked American citizens who were found guilty in the end only of defying his committee, he started each assault by declaring someone a communist. People who believe him expected that the next utterance would bring forth corroboration, substantiation, maybe even actual solid proof. What they saw instead was a sometimes literally drooling nervous man waving what he declared were lists of traitors and their affiliations. He never showed those lists, only the papers he claimed they were written on. When he spoke, he connected no dots. He spewed vague suggestions. He muttered near-quotes. He would often ramble on about the general world of espionage, dark forces, meetings, people acquainted with certain people (with a watery wink), implying we-knew-what. Recently, an amateur article appeared in a gossip publication about my private life.
The headline on the front page was McCarthyesque. It made a declaration. Anyone with an ounce of sense (and obviously some prurient interest), would read on expecting to find corroboration, substantiation, proof. But like McCarthy’s lists, the details inside made no sense. There were some opinions expressed by neighbors (the so-called reporter says) about my civic manners. All seemed to be complimentary. There was a semi-quote from someone I barely know about the origins of one of my closest friendships. Then there were lists, every one, fabricated. The most illogical one of all was that I had been a fixture on a certain social scene in Hollywood. It’s the sort of world many readers long to hear about. I lived in Los Angeles for twenty-nine years. One would expect that in all that time of operating in a social scene of such a titillating or sensational sort, I or anyone in whom the public might have a particular interest would have been identified as a participant long before now, most especially by a publication of this ilk. In fact, it is inconceivable that such long term activity could have gone unnoticed. There was nothing to notice, of course.
In this McCarthy report, even the least significant detail is false. My house is not worth multi-millions of dollars, unless the pronouncer of that naïve fabrication will pay me that much. Oh, and not that there is anything wrong with it, but I have yet to appear in a dinner theater production. I have never attended a costume party in Los Angeles or anywhere else, at least not since I was a pre-teenager. But I should like to meet Dolly Parton someday. A formal sit-down party given by an ex-William Morris agent? I don’t think so. Nope, no such thing (can’t these McCarthyites dream up better stuff than this?!).
These lame lies are not important in themselves, especially because they’re so puny. But it is a good idea to pause a moment, should one be tempted to regard these unconnected dots as having led somewhere. Look again. McCarthy dots. No connections, no substantiation. No sense. There was not even an attempt to collect these pronouncements and tie them together with the conclusion that therefore he must be, you know…wink wink. Like the besotted Senators, this would-be reporter’s tool was limp. He threw out some poorly phrased foolish fantasies and ducked back into his lonely hole, er, room.
These publications rely on boobie brains, though I have enough faith in the general intelligence to trust that most readers’ common sense will tell them they have been had. There were plenty of boobs who wanted to believe McCarthy, though, and they helped destroy innocent people. Even the suggestion of certain things is enough for some unevolved humans to hate or fear and wish to punish or destroy.
What this public action declares so recklessly on its front page is nothing anyone should feel bad about, or that ought to be denied. Never would I even discuss such personal matters with anyone who does not know that such a private issue is never anyone else’s business. Only rude, insensitive and offensive, and mean-spirited sorts deal in these intrusions. If someone has the temerity to ask you, you can tell him directly where to jump. When a trivial pursuer publishes, you ignore him. Or write a letter.
Alan Dershowitz’s new book is entitled Sexual McCarthyism. In this atmosphere of prying illegally and irresponsibly into the President’s secret personal world, it is not surprising that innuendoes are published about even the least of us. What is suggested about me is not distressing. What is sad and frightening is that anyone would want to publish such things.
But what is worse, and could be outrageous and heinous, is that there is no “there” there. In this country, we allow publication of strings of unrelated and unproved assertions. We allow direct statements to be printed by strangers who know nothing about us, and who are not obligated to substantiate allegations, suggestions or implications. Once they’re published, though…
So why not sue? For what? My point is this: If they can say something like this about me or anyone else, they can go further and cause some real damage, and you will be stuck with the libel bill. Don’t take that lightly. It—and much worse—can happen to you. Ask McCarthy’s victims.