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Logic vs Emotion

jane fucking fonda

Well, mark your calendars, today I was wrong.  I’d mark mine but it’s already all scratched up with yesterday’s mistakes and the screw-ups of the week before and, well, you get the idea. 

I do my best to use the rational part of my brain rather than run a muck on emotion.  Usually I’m fairly successful with this endeavor, but not today.  This morning I clicked onto Facebook to browse around, see what my friends were up to on this fine Sunday.  An iconic image of a young Jane Fucking Fonda grabbed my attention. And by grabbed my attention I do NOT mean I rationally thought to myself, Hmm I wonder what political agenda has prompted someone to post this old picture of an long ago event?

No, no.  My initial reaction was the equivalent of a screaming rant consisting of many words my grandmother cautioned me never to utter in public.  (Grandma was a swell curser, but always within the confines of home.  Generally after the third drink.)  The funny thing is, just a few months ago, I was sharing this same Hanoi Jane story with a friend who’s just enough younger than me to not remember the accusations. 

“Lots of Vietnam vets think she betrayed the POW’s at the Hanoi Hilton,” I said in my calmest voice.  “I’ve heard vets say prisoners slipped her pieces of paper to tell their families they were captured and she turned those slips of paper over to the VC resulting in beatings and torture.  I don’t know if it’s true or not.”

Seriously, that’s how I ended that conversation.  I don’t know if it’s true or not.  Those very words. 

Well, so, today I click with my little mouse and up pops this story that seems to substantiate the old rumors.  Now, the story also claims that President Obama is planning to honor Jane F Fonda for her service.

Wouldn’t you think I’d have heard little alarm bells ringing? 

Well, I might have heard those bells if I’d taken the time think things through.  But, just the one picture of the bitch increased my heart rate and reduced my speech to sputtering and spitting.  Seriously, even my old dog raised his head and eyed me like he wondered if he ought to figure out how to dial 911.

To make a long and embarrassing story short: the article is fake.  No one has proposed giving Jane Fonda an award of any kind and many men who were, in fact, right there in the Hanoi Hilton when the bitch brought in her cameras, say no one slipped her any slivers of paper and no one was beaten and tortured any more than usual because of her presence.

And, in the rational part of my brain, I think I knew all this.  Yet I re-posted the article.

So I have to ask myself why.

And, here’s what I’ve come up with.  Everyone is entitled to their own opinion.  Hell, I wasn’t a lover of that war either.  But, Fonda supported the enemy while American service men and women were fighting and dying and sustaining wounds they have carried with them for their entire lives.  Men like my husband.

So, with no logic at all, no rational platform on which to stand, I say to you:

I apologize for sharing a post on Facebook without properly researching its source and, if I ever see Jane Fucking Fonda, I fully intend to pop the bitch in the nose.

6 thoughts on “Logic vs Emotion

  1. You get her,, Pam. You knock her down, and I’ll stomp on her.
    My ex and I were talking today about Vietnam and Korea. How we could’ve never won those wars because they were never offically declared as war. Bullshit. I didn’t support that “action” but I did and do support all the soldiers that died, were wounded, and captured, many of whom I went to school with, sat beside in english class, cheated off of in math, and laughed with in homeroom. IF Jane Fonda did what they say, then she needs to be stomped on.

  2. Give her one for me, too. I can’t even watch a movie with her in it. I was old enough to see the entire story unfold and understand what was happening. Not understand in the terms of knowing why, but knowing what, where when and how.

  3. I was so little during those war years that I didn’t hear about that Fonda thing till I was in my teens. I didn’t understand it at all either, but from what I gleaned of what grown ups told me or talked about, I thought it was really a bad thing she did. But it used to make me a little vexed w/ my dad who lumped her in with all left of center hippie types, like me, and would call her ‘your friend there, Jane Fonda’.

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