The XXX Files

We will see how long it is possible to go without making a pun while speaking of the trials and tribulations of one Mark Suben, the recently re-elected district attorney for Cortland County. After his convincing triumph at the polls last month, Suben was forced, by incontrovertible video evidence, to acknowledge that which he had heretofore steadfastly denied—that he was, prior to his law school days, an actor (to use the term loosely) in some grainy 1970s porno films.

This prompted our local still-daily paper, which had tracked down the story throughout the waning days of the campaign only to be thwarted by Suben’s stonewalled denials, to call for the DA’s resignation. The Post-Standard, in an editorial on Nov. 26, faulted Suben not for his youthful indiscretions, which included starring in the all-too-familiar Lecher, Doctor’s Teenage Dilemma and Deep Throat Part II—all of which were somehow overlooked by the Academy Awards in favor of The Godfather and The Sting back in the early 1970s (now that’s a travesty of justice)—but for lying.

The editorial board at the Post took the high ground, insisting that they were not challenging Suben for the ways he chose to earn his beer money as a young man, but rather for his mendacity, asserting that by lying to the Fourth Estate, Suben had “tarnished the reputation of his office.”

Obviously peeved that a public official had uttered a bald-faced lie to their reporter’s face, the Post pronounced the porn star turned prosecutor unfit to serve because, “by lying, Suben deprived voters of the information necessary to make that judgment for themselves.”

Really? Does the cinematic past of a candidate really fall into the category of “information necessary” for the public to decide upon the fitness of a person to hold an elected office? Seems like his record as a lawyer and prosecutor, not his cheap thrills movie past, should be the information that voters need to focus on. 

Not much of substance can be found in the scant coverage of his campaign. We need to get over our obsession with the salacious, and editorials exaggerating the importance of sex, lies and videotape don’t help matters. I think you can make the case that the American voter has already gotten over it.

After all, Ronald Reagan was elected president by a nation fully aware that he had appeared in films with such dubious titles as The Amazing Dr. Clitterhouse, Naughty but Nice and, of course, Bedtime for Bonzo, with its none-too-subtle hints of bestiality.

If the question had anything to do with the individual’s capability to perform his or her duties, or even about the current state of his or her character, that would be a different matter. For example, had the question been something like this: “Mr. Suben, is it true that you once accepted a plea bargain allowing your former co-star Linda Lovelace to plead guilty to first-degree murder and let her off on a suspended sentence?” well, that might be different.

But Suben lied about something that happened nearly 40 years ago. He lied about something having to do with sex, the great American obsession. He lied about participating in an activity that, while distasteful, was perfectly legal. He was embarrassed, as he should be (wouldn’t you be?). But it doesn’t disqualify him from prosecuting criminals. You might suggest that it makes him a dishonest man, but to make that judgment based on this one incident against someone with a professional record that goes back 30 years does not seem reasonable.

If anyone is to blame for this, I say we hang it on Bill Clinton. Some of you may not know this, but before he became a vegan and the husband of the secretary of state, Bill Clinton was once known as the 42nd president of the United States. (You could look it up). During his tenure in that office, he was asked at a press conference if he had ever had sexual relations with an intern. Her name slipped his mind at the time, so he made the blanket statement that he had never had sexual relations with “that woman.” 

Over the next several years the nation suffered through an orgy of investigations determined to get to the bottom of the matter—and as a result more people know the color of Monica Lewinksy’s dress than understand the Clinton policy on Rwanda or Bosnia. All because Clinton didn’t say these five simple words: “None of your damned business.” And Suben’s film career, like Clinton’s horndog adventures, are just that—none of our damned business. Case dismissed. 

Read Ed Griffin-Nolan’s award-winning commentary in the Syracuse New Times. You can reach him at edgriffin@twcny.rr.com.