For that matter, I very definitely do look down on strippers, hookers, pimps, pornographers and the like. If that makes me an "elitist," then I'll proudly plead guilty as charged. (In case you hadn't noticed, a substantial streak of elitism pervades this whole forum. How many normal men are going to pay $1,000 or more for a pair of shoes if it doesn't make them feel, well, "elite"?)

In an ideal world, blood and race shouldn't count, but they do! I would certainly do my best to intervene if white men were trying to commit an outrage against a black woman, but if I witnessed the reverse and it were black men assaulting a white woman, my visceral horror and outrage would be even greater, I must confess. If this makes me a wicked racist, so be it, but I think it is human nature to identify more with your own kind, especially in matters like this.

, I think the operative words are "who strip for a living." Frankly, I do think any woman who chooses to "strip for a living" is automatically someone of questionable character to take up an inherently sordid occupation. Virtuous women generally find other means to make their way through the world. I am sure that there are some decent women who are strippers. Many, I know from experience, can be pleasant, engaging, fun women. Most are not prostitutes, but they are part of the demi-monde and only a notch or two up from prostitutes.

Moreover--and I am going to be very politically incorrect here--I will say that if a woman does choose to enter among a crowd of drunken young males, removes all (or nearly all) her clothes and dances about suggestively, she is willingly and knowingly assuming a very considerable risk that she may encounter some sort of indignities. Does this justify her being raped? Of course not! But it does to my mind mitigate the horror of it considerably in comparison to an assault on some woman innocently going about her business. I will say that at nearly all the strip clubs I visited in my younger days--and I must confess I did enjoy them in my wayward youth--order was normally kept by some seven-foot-tall black guy who looked as if he could crush rocks in his bare hands, and I don't recall ever having seen any untoward behavior of any sort. The girlie bars always seemed like very peaceful places--everybody was too busy watching the girls to make trouble.