Michigan SuperMom Given Nine Years for Sex with 14-Year-old Biological Son – And Begins Human Extinction Process
Original story on msnbc.com |
id•i•ot – id-ee-uht – noun
1. an utterly foolish or senseless person.
Synonyms: half-wit, imbecile, moron
It’s difficult not to write this woman off an idiot, so if I refer to her as an idiot many, many times, A) it’s my opinion, and, B) generally speaking, idiots do declare/write things like this.
For those who haven’t heard the story, Aimee L. Sword gave up her son when he was an infant, receiving birthday photos over the years from the boy’s adoptive family. When he was old enough to start a Facebook account she allegedly contacted him, cursing her posts with anonymity, treachery and sickness. Eventually, Sword initiated a sexual relationship with her biological son, for which she pled guilty and was sentenced to 9-30 years.
Theories as to what motivated Sword are stacked up like inbound flights at LAX, and her attorney says his client has decided to “seek counseling.“ Ha! Whether or not she’s curious about why she viewed her own child as a sexual object, or even which Simpson’s character will best represent her in court, she’s going to have both court-appointed and private psychiatrists muttering “idiot” under their breaths for the rest of her life –and on every reality show she’s ever “invited” to participate in.
But back to the theories…
There’s one that says that since Sword wasn’t around to raise her son, she wasn’t “inoculated” against a romantic fixation. A more household theory relates to Sword’s claim that she was abused as a child and that the “pattern” could be a partial cause. But the prizewinner making the rounds is GSA, or “Genetic Sexual Attraction” (are you listening Pfizer? GlaxoSmithKline?). Presumably, sufferers of GSA syndrome are ruled by incestuous romance and sexual fantasy.
GSA’s origins began with “The Forbidden Love” and continues with “I’m His Mother, But He’s Not My Son,” by Barbara Gonyo, a woman who –while making no excuses for her own “atrocious” behavior– does paint creepy pictures of clowns, children and a nature scene that, given the context, looks to me like a writhing orgy. But that might’ve been the power of suggestion, as her website, which supports others dealing with GSA, makes it soul-scorchingly clear that it isn’t a porn site or “a place to fantasize.” Neither is it, oddly, “for incest victims of childhood abuse or their abusers,” which sorta makes the whole bunch seem a bit all over the map. I’d think Gonyo would want to encourage incest victims to seek potentially pertinent information…
Okay-okay, despite the heavy “they just don’t understand us” vibe that permeates the GSA site –and I’m not denigrating Gonyo’s effort to educate the public– as far as I can tell, no one is claiming what GSA may sound like: that it’s in your DNA, and that the day your threw your tattle-tale sister into a ditch, genetics were routing you toward something rated XXX and so forth.
But others might make GSA an excuse, and that’s my beef! With all of this enlightening chatter about GSA, how long will it be until we hear someone tease a co-worker with, “Ooh, I think I have a little GSA for the new girl!” And how long after this cutesiness will we see full-blown GSA segments on the afternoon news or Dr. Phil? And never-mind Aimee L. Sword, who –GSA-or-no-GSA– should have stepped the hell off and not pursued something she knew damn good ‘n well was Caligula-Level Wrong: when does all this become “treatable?” Because where ever there’s a cure, or more accurately, a diagnosis, you’ll find an excuse.
As a general rule, I (very clearly) say, “excuse you.” The same goes for when I’m blatantly cut off or elbowed. And especially at holiday time, my amusement grows in direct proportion to the indignation of the offender.
