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Following recent high level nuclear weapons tests by both India and Pakistan, intensified fighting has broken out in Kashmir and troops are being amassed in preparation for war … but never mind that! A man looking for turtles, and his dog, stumbled across Chandra Levy’s remains Wednesday morning in the District’s 1,700 acre Rock Creek Park, and that’s all we have to talk about. At least, that’s all you’d think we have to talk about … despite the upcoming war between India and Pakistan, and another serious suicide bombing in Israel, American news outlets lead their broadcasts, unbelievably, with the Levy story, retelling in only general detail those things any observant person knew last year, unable to tell us anything else. (Shepard Smith on Fox News: “Chandra Levy (semi-dramatic cause) is dead.” We knew that Shep, dammit; we’ve known it all along.)
Lost in all the hubbub is this datum: About 100 people go missing in the District each year, scarcely none of them warrant the type of press conferences held by District police chief (and Chief Wiggum look alike) Charles Ramsey, or the victim’s family, or various attorneys, et cetera. This is because, well, it’s not every day a Congressman impregnates and kills one of his interns … or his wife kills the intern … or, you know, someone either or both of them hired to kill the intern. Allegedly.
I kid; but the longer one investigates the particulars of this case, the deeper and darker everything becomes, therefore one’s natural curiosity tends to dominate his thoughts. Such levels of individual curiosity are only inflamed by men like Jim Robinson, attorney for former air waitress and Condit mistress Anna Marie Smith. On Wednesday’s Hannity and Colmes, Robinson dropped more bombs than the British saw during the Blitzkrieg. Among Robinson’s contentions: The former air waitress was once invited to Condit’s apartment, by Condit himself, to have sex with Condit and as many as three other men (and refused); besides this, semen from several different men was found in Condit’s District apartment, according to a source of Robinson’s inside the District police department.
Now let’s slow down a minute. A few points should be made: Gary Condit certainly wouldn’t be the first elected official to adopt group sex as a means of passing free time; in and of itself unusual and disgraceful, but on the whole not something for which he should be crucified. If true, this goes to show Condit was rather liberal in regards to how and whom he spread his seed, which doesn’t bode well for the Congressman if you believe the pregnancy angle. (Believe it? I advanced it!) He wouldn’t have been the first married man to knock up a female half his age (allegedly), he wouldn’t have been the first married man to be pressured by his mistress to leave his wife, or the first man to do anything he did with Chandra Levy. While we are focusing on the why, we are forgetting the facts we know for certain: Condit and Levy are both pigs, in that they took a sacrament so lightly.
However, Condit has hidden, refused to divulge and attempted to destroy evidence, he did wait nine and a half weeks to answer questions, he did lie to the police, he did take a staged-by-the- defense polygraph while refusing to take a legitimate test, he has refused to speak to Billy Martin (the Levy family attorney), he did have a free afternoon following his lunch with Vice President Cheney and hasn’t answered for his whereabouts; 70 percent of murdered women are killed by someone they know, 33 percent of that 70 by a present of past husband, boyfriend or lover. If Gary Condit didn’t have anything to do with Chandra Levy’s death, he’s either the world’s unluckiest son-of-a-bitch or the worst at looking innocent this country’s criminal justice system has ever seen.
Or he’s guilty.
One is remiss in considering the circumstances under which Levy met her demise, so we focus on the more interesting and salacious details of the affair itself. Not uncommon; murder should make any decent person uncomfortable. However I should like to take these last few paragraphs to bemoan the relative decay of the marriage vow, because if nothing else the Levy controversy began as a nod and a wink exchanged across a room. Now, those most familiar with this column are fully aware of my dislike of marriage on its face, but if you’re going to walk down an aisle (or even drive down to the justice of the peace), exchange rings and state before a roomful of witnesses your love and eternal faithfulness to the person standing opposite you, your primary reason for living from that moment forward becomes the dogged dedication to that principle.
A man knows in his heart, when he bends down to his knee and proposes, whether or not he’s going to commit adultery in his marriage, should he be afforded the opportunity; this is not a spur of the moment choice. And as marriage represents a commitment that roots itself deeply in several lives (your spouse, your individual families, your children if you have them, and most do), whatever moves made to impact the sanctity and seriousness with which the marriage is taken cannot be chanced. And that’s that, predicated on the fact one must take the commitments he makes seriously. You must choose between “settling down” and sleeping with odd women here and there. When you get married, your choice is made. And so in regards to the mistress, the same thing applies, though in reverse (one must respect the vow and cannot put her own desires before his previous important commitments). The fact no one, besides probably Mrs. Condit, respected the vow is telling, and in its way sad.
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