The Bambi Principle
I’m a bit fired up this morning on two unrelated topics:
1. Don’t mess with my friends, especially girls I love like family. You’ll regret it, and because I’ll lose sleep thinking of ways to make you regret it. (Most of which I’ll be too chicken to actually do, granted. All of which make me a much more interesting novelist. Revenge: making novels and suburban life more interesting since forever.)
2. Crazy lunatics are blaming Lara Logan for being sexually assaulted while working as a CBS reporter in Egypt. Seriously.
I am unsure why CBS reported she’d been assaulted. This alone goes against all journalism ethics of protecting the victim. And the idea that Logan should have known better makes me so furious I could spit nails. She was doing her job. A job that requires more courage than 99% of humanity has ever had to summon. Yes, she did so with blond hair and a pretty smile and intelligence and bravado. We — as a news hungry society — asked her to be there. To suggest anything otherwise is simply wrong and shameful.
My mom — like I’m guessing countless other American mothers — told us as kids “Remember in Bambi? Remember? What did they teach us?” To which we’d chime, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” This should be adapted for current day to read, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it. Unless it is giving you an ulcer. Then say it to friends at happy hour and laugh it out and feel better. And also, don’t steal. Lip gloss, boyfriends, content. Do not steal. Ever.”
This is the new Bambi Principle. NPR gets it. Don’t be a jerk. Don’t steal.