I kind of wanted to, but I doubt I’ll get around to putting together a few thousand word on this. I’m too angry to think straight. But, honestly, if you’ve ever figured that frat rape dances, lacrosse hooker scandals, college qb rape accusations, or any others of a myriad of sexual assault stories over the years were just, you know, not worth attnetion, then I feel like you have nothing to be outraged about with Sandusky, Paterno, et alia. When institutions close rank to cover up sex crimes of any nature (looking at you, all you people tickled to death over R Kelly’s autobiography), this is the sort of culture you get. The one, as they say, you deserve. I’m absolutely devastated for the children who were harmed, but I’m maybe even more beside myself as the story develops into your run of the mill radio call in show fodder. Fuck the commentators who only care (barely) when the people sports fucks over are the vey most defenseless ones possible. The ones there’s not a preexisting cultural drive to marginalize and silence. I hate Sandusky, but I think I hate even more the atavistic — and frankly — terrified predatory world that created him.