Who’s the bigger prostitute? Sex kitten “Belle Knox,” alias Miriam Weeks, a promising porn star who is studying at Duke University, or her father, Dr. Kevin Weeks, an Army doctor who recently returned from a tour of duty in Afghanistan?
“I would support porn over the adventures for the Empire, anytime” is the verdict of libertarian Robert Wenzel, editor at Economic Policy Journal.
Indeed, daddy’s girl is an open book. We know what the 18-year-old does and that she does it for the love of it.
But what does Papa Weeks do? Here’s an attempt to sum up his vocation in this season of rhyming against the regime:
Humpty Dumpty was sent to war
where Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
All the king’s horses and all King Hussein’s men
Asked Dr. Weeks to put Humpty Dumpty together again.
And again. And again.
Papa Weeks is in the business of patching up the peons, so as to send them back to the killing fields where they fight for nothing.
At times, the “talents” of GI Joe and GI Ho come together in the theater of war – the Abu Ghraib porn theater starred some sadistic and slutty servicemen and women. However, the pornography of Miriam Weeks is soft core compared to the X-rated pornography of war, in which Dr. Weeks partakes. Furthermore, selling sex for money, in private or to audiences, is voluntary, consensual and violates no rights.
As corrupt as Miriam’s morals are, better to have been a ho for sale than a mercenary for Uncle Sam.
From interviews “Belle Knox” has given, one gathers that she owes her blankness and banality to a privileged upbringing: a “religious” home life and private schooling, secondary and tertiary.
In a chat on a porn-promoting site, Ms. Weeks pairs the sanctity of her sexuality (namely her promiscuity) with women’s rights. You can’t go wrong with that bit of cant, also an article of faith among America’s parents and pedagogues.
Face it, North-American parents treat their teenage girls as though they were celestial beings around which the world orbits. Verbalizing inappropriately and misguidedly, in my judgment, about sexuality as a facet of female self-actualization and self-determination is part of this parental profile. Devout or not, any parent who has such a demigod under construction is guilty of playing a preponderant role in the development of deviance.
Next, Ms. Weeks informed CastingCouch-X.com that she’d “like to use [her] experience as a porn star to advocate for women’s rights.” She also noodled on about “using [her] education” – she wants to be a human rights lawyer [what else?] – to promote women’s right.
Another sister, also from a top school, famously conflated her right to screw herself silly (or sillier) with the obligation of other Americans (insurers included) to supply her with Trojans and Trivora. She is Sandra Fluke. In the addled minds of these women, language reserved for acting-out sexually lends itself quite “logically” to the language of rights.
I’d venture further that this vulgarity is not incongruous with a Christian upbringing. No longer doctrinaire or demanding, the mishmash of pop-religion practiced in churches and transmitted in American homes is an extension of the therapeutic culture: It emphasizes feelings, fun and personal fulfillment. Our society, in fact, revolves around the pleasure principle. Unless something is pleasurable, it excites suspicion and is deemed unworthy of pursuit.
Seconds Ms. Weeks: “I love what I’m doing. I’m safe and empowered.” The porn performer is certainly safely ensconced at Duke. She has not been expelled from the Ivy League institution whose motto is “Knowledge and Faith” and whose religious affiliation is with the United Methodist Church.
Perhaps the performance of pornography qualifies, at Duke University, as an extra-curricular credit?
Remarkably familiar, too, in its vacuity was the clichéd, regurgitated screed this genius unleashed in yet another interview. It, no doubt, comes straight out of the “women’s studies” curriculum in which Miriam is “majoring.”
My entire life, I have, along with millions of other girls, been told that sex is a degrading and shameful act. When I was 5 years old and beginning to discover the wonders of my body, my mother, completely horrified, told me that if I masturbated, my vagina would fall off.
The most striking view I was indoctrinated with was that sex is something women “have,” but that they shouldn’t “give it away” too soon – as though there’s only so much sex in any one woman, and sex is something she does for a man that necessarily requires losing something of herself, and so she should be really careful who she “gives” it to.
Thankfully, this writer’s adult daughter has never delivered so imbecilic a soliloquy and has taken care to be discreet about her private life. Maybe it is because when my girl discovered what the frightful Ms. Weeks discovered at age 5, her mother (me) said this:
“That’s private. Only for you to see and touch. To do that, you have to go to your room and close the door.”
As with all the asexual, apolitical, neutral, age-appropriate messages moms and dads were once perfectly capable of conveying, it worked. The little girl nodded and chose instead to cuddle with mom in front of the wonderfully innocent “Adventures Of The Gummy Bears.” (Cute, innocent Disney is long dead, but boy, was it magic!)
To avoid raising a genius of genitalia is not that hard. But how do we stop dads from choosing the gore of war?
Media wishing to interview Ilana Mercer, please contact [email protected].