It’s the end of the year again, and what more appropriate time for leisurely reflection over the past twelve months and a look forward to the future?
Well, sorry, but sod that. Heretic TOC has been up to his ears in something far more exciting, and is bursting to tell you about it. Not since Oscar Wilde was accused of “posing as a sodomite” (speaking of sodding it!) over a century ago has anyone been more improbably insulted than I was yesterday. We paedophiles are well used to insults on a daily basis, of course, but not like this one!
The thing about old Oscar is that far from “posing” as a sodomite he actually was one. To the modern ear, at least, the Marquess of Queensberry’s accusation sounds much queerer than its intended target: why accuse someone of “posing”, or pretending, to be a homosexual, when Wilde really was one, and would have been mad in those days to “come out”? The solution to that riddle, as we know, is that Queensbury was accusing Wilde of being an active gay, not of being some sort of impostor.
Bizarrely, though, I was accused yesterday precisely of being an impostor: that very word was used. So why on earth would anyone accuse an out paedophile like myself of such a thing? Who in their right mind would pretend to be a paedophile, thereby guaranteeing themselves pariah status?
Again there’s a riddle: I was accused not of “posing” as a paedophile, nor even of being one, but of an altogether more serious offence in the eyes of a leading figure on the amazing and wonderful Sexnet forum. I was accused – and you must imagine me now uttering this in hushed tones, portending the most shocking and shameful revelation – I was accused of, of…
It’s no good. I can’t even bring myself to say it. It’s not the guilt and shame that’s holding me back, though. It’s more that I cannot quite get my head around what the offence was. Let’s skip that for a moment, then, and turn our attention to the accuser.
This was none other than my old adversary James Cantor, he of the theory that white matter deficiency is implicated in the allegedly “crossed wired” brains of paedophiles (see The dubious analogy of the ‘extra arm’, 14 December).
James, aka Jimmy “the screamer” Cantori, notorious hit person of the Toronto mob, has been squealing like a stuck pig again, this time denouncing me as an “impostor” unless I can “produce an alternative explanation for the handedness findings”.
Uh? See what I mean?
“Impostor” suggests to me the sort of guy who would con his way into practising as a gynaecologist with no more than a plumber’s qualifications – or perhaps some bogus researcher who might fancy a go at putting on a lab coat and conducting experiments at the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health (CAMH), Toronto, where quite a few Sexnetters (the Toronto mob!) are ensconced. But I was hardly being accused of that kind of thing.
Beyond the bafflement, though, a man knows when, if not why, he is being insulted. Yes, sir, oh yes! Impostor indeed! This clearly called for pistols at dawn. I would have considered handbags instead but that might have given James an undue advantage.
Diabolically, though, just when I was about to shoot off an email throwing down the gauntlet, in steps the moderator. Hold your fire, gentlemen, he insists! No duelling hereabouts, pray!
What set all this hullabaloo in train, you might ask? What spark reignited the dry tinder of our passions? The telling, in truth would be tedious: he said this, I said that, he came back with…
What I tried to do today, though, was something a little more substantial: a lengthy Sexnet missive addressing the handedness issue, and others. If James makes the effort to answer it with more than just defensive shrieking and wild accusations, I’ll let you know. This tittle tattle is fun, but a real advance in the debate would be much more significant, and of far more lasting interest.