Roy Moore is not a child molester.
The Ministry of Propaganda made that up.
The Ministry of Propaganda made that up.
I initially resisted considering the possibility that that yearbook (admittedly forged, at least in the sense that it was modified after allegedly signed by Moore) was actually signed Ray rather Roy. But TigerClaws pointed out what was obvious when I first saw the inscription: that it is clunkily worded. TC pointed out that if you read the signature as Ray rather than Roy, the inscription forms a rhyme and makes perfect sense viewed as such. Not saying that this guy Ray is the second coming of Walt Whitman, but . . .Recognize that, and I admit that if soy made more sense than say at the end of the first line, one would probably read it in the former sense without thinking, just as easily as you make the signature of the inscription Roy if you think that is what it should be.
IOW, that womans proof looks like a $3 bill.
And a child molester is despised in part because no one has any confidence in the likelihood of change. And yet the claim seems to have been that Moore was creepy in his choice of romantic interest allegedly in post-pubescent girls. An interest which stopped on a dime when he got married (yes, to a much younger woman, but a woman nonetheless).
The fact that my mothers mother married at 16 - to a widower who had lost his wife and two of his three children to disease, hence must have been quite a bit older - colors my reaction to the idea that a 30 yo might marry a teen. If Grandmother married at 16, was she courted at age 15? My understanding is that women marry men who can support a family, and men marry pretty women who can handle domestic responsibilities. And I was a nodding acquaintance with one girl, call her that, who at age 14 would on appearance grounds not have been at all out of place in a beauty contest (but who was not nearly the same looker only a couple of years later).
I also can relate in the sense that I didnt marry until I was just short of 30 - and I was thrilled to find my bride, who at my age was much too attractive and nice to still have been available.