One of the recurring points made by Joe Paterno’s detractors is the one repeated by Rhea Hughes, Angelo Cataldi’s female sidekick, who sits idly by when the busty bimbos traipse through the studio but draws the line when Michael Vick mistreats dogs or when Joe Pa fails to do more than pick up the phone. Rhea has noted often the past few days how someone’s perspective on Paterno and the scandal at Penn State might change if he imagined that the children allegedly abused were his own grandchildren. That kind of personal connection supposedly tips the balance, clarifies the situation, and reveals the guilt of the PSU officials — including Joe Pa.
But once you start the engine of your imagination, it actually creates more dilemmas than it resolves. For instance, Rhea, imagine the following:
That Joe Paterno is your grandfather.
That you are Joe Pa’s priest and he has confessed his sin and you want to tell the police.
That you are a reporter and have evidence that would convict Sandusky but without revealing your source it is only hearsay.
That you are Paterno’s attorney and know the truth but need to represent your client.
That you are Sandusky’s friend.
That you are a smoker.
That the fundamentalists really did win.
That John Lennon wrote a song called “Imagine.”
Oh, that’s right, Lennon did and it was as ethereal as the moral certainty is absolute that afflicts scandalmongering.