Untitled (34 page)

"
Crisis in Feminist Values: The Smart Twat,
" excerpts from a paper presented by Lilith Miller-James, Ph.D., M.S.W., Department of Women's Studies, California State University, Fullerton:

  There has been a vociferous outcry from the feminist press concerning issues of choice and how the ST encourages the perception that women are helpless and unable to choose appropriate courses of action. I would argue that the ST be seen as it was intended: as a stopgap measure to be used until another device is invented, approved, and distributed to assist abusers in changing behaviors and responding to the challenges of contemporary relationships.

  It is naive to ignore the reality of women's lives. Statistics show that one out of four women experiences some form of sexual abuse. Inaction is not an option. To paraphrase Hippocrates: Extreme Diseases require Extreme Remedies.

Hal slumped down in the passenger seat, waiting. His camera was fitted with a high-quality telephoto lens and loaded with a fast film. Fast times required fast film, as he liked to say. School had let out twenty minutes ago, and the kid should be here any second.

  They were doing a special issue of the
Enquirer
on teenage pregnancy, and Hal's job was to spy on that Smart Twat kid, the one with the famous scientist mother, and to catch the girl in unflattering poses that would suggest tawdry caption ideas for the copywriter. He had wanted to cover the original court case, when the father failed to win custody before the device was implanted, but that was a big story, pitting parental rights against the rights of the individual, and his boss had given the assignment to someone with a little more experience. It took five years for the brouhaha to die down, and now here he was, covering yesterday's news. Sometimes he hated this job.

  He noticed a teenager approaching the house.

  He looked at the old press release and compared the picture to the girl now jogging down the walkway. It had to be her.

  Jeez, he thought, she's just a kid. She was tall, wearing too much makeup. Her face was still chubby, her cheeks naturally pink, her legs spindly, like she hadn't quite grown into them. She reminded him of his youngest granddaughter.

  He patted his equipment. No way, he said. She's just a kid. Let somebody else do the dirty work. He picked up his cell phone and was about to dial in, say he was sorry that he hadn't been able to arrange the shoot, when he noticed movement in the car parked in front of him. Morgan from
The Star.

  "Fuck it," Hal said. He popped the lens cap and focused. With his foot he honked the horn. The Smart Twat kid turned his way, exhibiting a look of surprise and maybe fear. He clicked the shutter, again and again, using up half a roll before she made eye contact with him and he felt too guilty about the whole thing to continue.

Transcript from the October 6 Episode of MTV's
The More Real World:

  (Camera pans the living room where twenty-somethings Jill, Mandy, and Tim sit on a futon couch.)

  Jill (sipping a Diet Coke): Seretta said the Prozac made her gain weight, so she switched to an herbal antidepressant, but that didn't seem to help either. She said that it felt like a dark cape had been thrown over her, like the world was closing in, crushing her at its center.

  Mandy: Yeah. We felt really bad for her. Her clothes didn't fit, and she thought she looked frumpy and a lot older than forty. (Giggling.) We tried to tell her she wasn't old, but of course she was; so she knew we were lying.

  Tim: I don't think she cared much about her personal appearance, except that she was supposed to set an example for other women.

  Mandy: It's so sad. That family is, like, so fucked up.

  Jill: Oh, and, like, we're not?

  Tim: Zing! I guess we all have to share a bite of that weenie.

  (Jump-cut to kitchen, where Seretta sits at the breakfast table holding the sides of her mug.)

  (Ginny enters. She is dressed in black and has a new piercing through her lip.)

  Ginny: Mother.

  Seretta: When you call me "Mother" instead of "Seretta," it usually means you want something

  Ginny: I have to go to school, but I wanted to tell you something, so just listen, okay?

  Seretta: Okay.

  Ginny: I'm thinking that I'd like to go live with Dad.

  Seretta: That ass!

  Ginny: He's not an ass, Mother. He's my dad. Anyway, you said you would just listen.

  Seretta: You can't mean this! We moved into this TV house because you said it would be good for us. You can't just abandon me to these morons.

  Ginny: Guess I was wrong. I'm late. (She grabs a handful of Fruit Loops and hustles out the door.)

  (Jump-cut to living room)

  Mandy: Officially, it's called the Sensory Motivational Assessment and Response Test, though everyone in the world – except Ginny's mother, who invented the fucker – calls it the Smart Twat. Sometimes, I can't believe she did this – made Ginny go guinea pig. I can't believe it, but it's true.

  (Jump-cut to kitchen, where Jill and Seretta sip herbal tea.)

  Seretta: (wiping eyes with tissue) Nothing prepares you for parenting. Sometimes you don't know what to do.

  Jill: I never really thought about what it was like for my mom. Not that she thinks about what it's like for me.

  Seretta: I tell myself I've got to snap out of this, but it's not that easy. (Swallowing herbal uppers and chasing them with half a box of fat-free chocolate bars.) I haven't felt especially suicidal, but one thing still terrifies me. Too often, it feels as if it would be just as easy to be there instead of here.

Richard's attorney said, "Of course the decisions in cases like these usually go with the mother, but since the child wishes you to have custody, we can hope."

  So much drama and publicity surrounded the entire court case. The phone rang constantly, even in the middle of the night. Reporters waited at Richard's door like hungry dogs wanting to be let in. Thankfully, all his legal expenses were being paid by Male Rights (MR), an organization founded by men who had been denied custody of their children.

  "The one thing that could hurt us," the attorney said, "is if she brings up that accusation of date rape. I know it isn't true; I'm just worried about how it will sound in court."

  The way Richard remembered events, Seretta had been as willing as he had. But she had since tried to poison his relationship with their daughter with some crap about him forcing himself upon her. He remembered that first night in detail, the way Seretta had dressed (a black lace shirt, tight jeans, heels), the delicate scent of spice at the base of her neck, how she had used her tongue in ways his wife had long since forgotten.

  There was no force involved. He had gone over it enough times in his mind to be sure. It was only after – when her period was late, when Seretta realized, finally, that he was not going to leave his wife for her – that she began to accuse him of taking advantage of her. Not that he had ever promised anything. She knew he was married from the start, but never thought twice about the immorality until later.

  They were close in age, and he was no worldlier than she was. Why did she blame him because she had gotten pregnant? He'd naturally assumed that she had taken precautions – if
he
had been the one at risk for an unwanted child he certainly would have. So maybe he had pressed a bit too hard for the abortion, but it had seemed like the best course at the time. When Seretta changed her mind, she accused him of wanting to murder their baby.

  Should he have tried harder to be sensitive to Seretta's needs? Probably. He could see that now, just not then. She blamed him for everything that had gone wrong. So did his ex-wife, who had legitimate cause. Thank god Ginny didn't hate him. His marriage had dissolved years ago, and he was racked with guilt for causing everyone so much pain. His daughter meant the world to him.

Transcript excerpts from the
Jerry Springer Show:

  Jerry: Richard Derringer's very public relationship with Seretta Vuoto has left him vulnerable to the label of "woman hater," but Richard says this isn't true. It's only Seretta that he hates.

  Richard: Mr. Springer . . .

  Jerry: Call me Jer.

  Richard: Mr. Springer. . . .

  Jerry: Okay, call me Jerry. You look nervous. What's the matter? You never watch the show?

  Richard: Once or twice. I saw the one with the Siamese twins.

  Jerry: My finest hour. So tell me about your ex-wife.

  Richard: She's not my ex-wife. We weren't married.

  Jerry: Whatever. I bet she was hot. Or was your wife the cold fish?

  Richard: Look, I'm not going to answer that.

  Jerry: She's some sort of scientist, right?

  Richard: Her degree is in psychology. It's a soft science. Not hard like physics, but she sure acts like she knows everything.

  Jerry: I like this hard and soft stuff. Can we talk a little more about that?

  Richard: I worry that my daughter might be watching.

  Jerry: (laughing) You let your daughter watch a show like this?

  Richard: It's not up to me. She lives with her mother.

  Jerry: But not for long, eh?

  Richard: I think it's better not to talk about this on camera. Did you hear talk of a planned school shooting in Minneapolis?

  Jerry: Got my guys on it already.

A letter to
JAMA:

  Recently, the adult guardians of a teenage patient demanded I prescribe a Smart Twat on the child's behalf. This raised several issues of consent, as well as a general question of accountability on the part of the OB-GYN toward the psychosexual health of her/his patients.

1) If I fail to follow the guardian's directive, and my patient suffers from abusive relationships as a result – perhaps contracts diseases ranging from genital warts to HIV – will I be liable for monetary damages?

2) If I prescribe the device, and the child is prevented from consummating relationships that prove harmful and, as a result of this, experiences diminished creative capacity due to "lack of suffering," will I be liable for interfering with her right to autonomy?

3) And finally, does prescribing the Smart Twat indicate that I have abandoned my religious belief that sex is a sacred act, which should not be consummated before marriage? Or does it enforce that belief through a scientific interventionist approach?

  While on the surface these questions may seem frivolous, I believe these to be complex issues that must be addressed. The conscientious physician will consult not only his attorney but also a competent ethicist. L. Smith, M.D. New York, NY 10029

An excerpt from
Get S.M.A.R.T.
by Seretta Vuoto:

It's not the fun I want to take away. You have to believe that.

  I want to spare you from an unwanted pregnancy and the emotional pain and the risk of contracting an incurable illness, all of which are potential consequences to every sexual union. Just hoping it won't happen to you can't protect you. Look around. None of
those
girls thought it would happen to them, either.

  What S.M.A.R.T. will do: Sense when a potential partner is lying to you. Measure his (or, in the case of a lesbian partner, her) degree of affection and loyalty.

  What S.M.A.R.T. won't do: Find your perfect mate. Protect you from the emotional hurt of loving someone who refuses to return your love.

From the Introduction to
It's All My Fault: My Love Affair with Seretta
Vuoto
by Richard Derringer:

  I'm not telling the most intimate details of my life for the money, but to set the record straight.

  I thought I loved Seretta. It was only when I learned what kind of person she truly was that I learned to despise her.

An excerpt from Seretta Vuoto's letter to the
New York Review of Books
(
NYRB
):

  So, why didn't Richard Derringer (
It's All My Fault
Review,
NYRB,
April 23) wait to pork me till he learned what kind of person I "truly" was?

  Ginny had left a note on the kitchen table: "Gone to Daddy's for the weekend." She had also left out a half-gallon of milk, now spoiled, and a sink full of dirty dishes. Seretta began to tidy up, a habit.

  The phone rang – that cute sociologist she had met at her last lecture.

  "I was wondering," he said, "if you'd have time for coffee?"

  She had liked him; he had asked intelligent questions and seemed thoughtful, the kind of man who might be considerate.

  "I don't drink coffee," Seretta said.

  "Well, how about tea?"

  Her heart was racing, she broke out in a sweat. Either her S.M.A.R.T. chip was psychic, and he was a jerk, or she was having an old-fashioned anxiety attack.

  "Maybe a drink?" he prompted.

  Be brave, she told herself. You have protection.

  "Okay," she said. "When?"

  "Would tonight be convenient?"

  "Can I meet you somewhere?" she asked.

  "How about the Tea Bar at the Hilton?" he suggested.

  She hung up the phone.

  Even if her S.M.A.R.T. gave her the green light, she doubted she could sleep with him. She didn't deserve a good relationship. It had been difficult, really difficult, being alone all these years, trying to raise a daughter by herself. Seretta loved Ginny more than she could say. How could she forgive herself for wondering, still, what her life would have been like had she gone through with the abortion?