Christie Blatchford blames Rehtaeh Parsons (updated twice)
Christie Blatchford is a columnist for Postmedia. Postmedia promotes Blatchford all over the place, putting her face on billboards (when they shouldn’t), and letting her write whatever the Hell she wants (when they shouldn’t).
On the rare occasions when I am tricked into reading one of Blatchford’s cop-loving, native-hating screeds, I am reminded of Ezra Pound. Yes, Blatchford reminds me of Ezra Pound.
Pound, as you will recall, was an acclaimed poet and writer. Some of his works, like The Garden, I committed to memory in my youth. But even in a work as great as that one, there were subtle and disturbing hints about what his politics would become – particularly, for me, the line about “the filthy, sturdy, unkillable infants of the very poor.”
Pound would go on to become a fascist, and an unabashed fan of Hitler and Mussolini and Mosley. He wrote pieces calling Jews “the disease incarnate.” By war’s end, he was placed in a cage by the Allies, and had a mental breakdown. He died in disgrace, and deservedly so.
I am not saying, of course, that Christie Blatchford is a fascist. She is, however, a great stylist, who uses her undeniable writing skills to defend the Right, and attack the weak – such as when she likened natives she dislikes to “terrorists,” for example. I don’t despise her for her views, even though they are often despicable. I despise her willingness – like Pound – to cheapen the gift that God gave her by writing hateful garbage.
Her column today on Rehtaeh Parsons, today, is hateful garbage. I won’t link to it, because it really, truly is that foul. But, essentially, Blatchford writes an entire column – without one named source, without any sources at all, in fact – to seemingly promote the notion that Rehtaeh Parsons wanted to get raped, and that the police were right not to do anything about it. You can find it yourself, if you have the stomach for it. It made me want to throw up, personally. Is she at all aware that an inebriated 15-year-old can’t consent, under Canadian law? And that’s not all: why are the police in Nova Scotia showing evidence to Blatchford, when they’ve announced they’re reopening a criminal probe? That merits a judicial inquiry all on its own.
Anyway. I, we, get Christie Blatchford. She plays a part, like columnists often do. She plays a role. She’s the pro-police, leftie-and-native-hater at Postmedia. If you want to read someone who will always defend the indefensible, but with a clever turn of phrase, Blatchford’s your gal.
There are plenty of writers who will defend the indefensible, unfortunately. But what makes Christie Blatchford a special case – what makes me despise her writing – is that she uses her talents so recklessly.
Hey, Christie Blatchford: Rehtaeh Parsons was the victim. She was gang-raped, and hounded, and harassed, and driven off this Earth by hate. Her death diminished us all, every single one of us.
And you? You don’t give a shit about that.
UPDATE: Rehtaeh’s Dad doesn’t like what she’s written either. Here.
UPDATED AGAIN: And Rehtaeh’s mom hits Blatchford hard, here. (See below.) Blatchford is indeed twisted, and she indeed degrades what happened to Rehtaeh, as her Mom says. No one would disagree.
