A Perfectly Normal Story About The Time Robert Kennedy Jr. Cut Off A Raccoon's Penis
Everything's normal.
Consider the raccoon penis.
We’ve had the dead bear he drove around in his van before dumping it in Central Park like he was Gentle Ben if Gentle Ben had been a serial killer. We’ve learned about how he chainsawed the head off a dead whale that had washed up on a beach, strapped it to the roof of his family’s minivan, and drove hundreds of miles home while his children in the back seat were being sprayed with whale juice. We heard about the whitewater rafting trip in Peru in the early 1980s, where he reportedly was served boiled rat by a peasant and made a show of plucking one of the dead rat’s eyeballs out of its head and swallowing it.
To all these tales of Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s creepy interactions with animals, we must now add this from The New York Post:
In his diary, he writes about cutting off the penis of a road-killed raccoon in 2001, while his “kids waited patiently in the car,” so that he could examine it later.
We’re all aware by this point that RFK Jr. is one of the weirdest dudes to ever get pushed out of a Kennedy’s vagina. Which is saying something, because a lot of people have been pushed out of Kennedy vaginas.
But this one really got us. He castrated a dead raccoon so he could examine its penis. For what? Venereal diseases? Did he suspect the raccoon had a dose of the clap? Did he want to compare its size to other raccoon penises he had picked up in his travels? Was he writing a dissertation on what environmental factors might account for any variance in the size of raccoon penises across a broad spectrum of subspecies and habitats?
Then we found ourselves wondering what he did with the raccoon penis when he finished examining it for ... whatever. Did he feed it to one of his hawks? Mount it over his fireplace? Does Cheryl Hines think she’s shooting a new episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm every time she walks into her living room and sees the raccoon’s dong on a plaque over the mantelpiece like an unholy mashup of a Billy Bass and a German Expressionist film? Because Larry and Cheryl David being invited to some rando’s home for dinner and finding out his hobby is taxidermy and he’s got a raccoon penis hanging in a place of pride in his house very much sounds like a Curb plot.
This fascinating account of RFK Jr.’s encounter with Procyonidae genitalia is in an excerpt of an upcoming biography titled RFK Jr: The Fall and Rise, by Isabel Vincent. In 2013, Vincent was for some reason given access to diaries RFK Jr. had been keeping for a couple of decades. She has now dug through over 1,200 pages of America’s looniest Health and Human Services Secretary detailing his rebellious childhood and his battles with addiction to both drugs and banging women who were not his wife.
It is a pathetic and rough story that in no way mitigates even an ounce of the harm Kennedy has spent the last year inflicting on America’s health.
This excerpt focuses on three men who were sort of father figures to Kennedy after his own father was assassinated in 1968. One, Lem Billings, was a lifelong friend of John F. Kennedy. He took the young RFK Jr. on trips, stepped in as a parent when Ethel Kennedy was so appalled by her son that she could barely be around him, and later shot heroin with him in Billings’ apartment, which in the 1970s was a sort of “flophouse” for Kennedy scions.
The second father figure was Skip Lazell, a biology teacher at the Palfrey School when RFK Jr. attended. Lazell was a right-winger and a member of the John Birch Society:
In the 1950s and 1960s, the group also believed that the fluoridation of drinking water was a Communist plot and had no trust in vaccines. They promoted “health freedom” and opposed mandatory vaccinations.
Bobby, a future critic of vaccines who believes that some are linked to high rates of autism, has called fluoride “a dangerous neurotoxin” and claimed that it has been linked to a host of maladies, including thyroid disease, arthritis, and bone breaks.
Imagine if Palfrey, an “experimental” school in the 1960s for misfits and underachievers, had hired a biology teacher who wasn’t a fluoride-phobic wingnut who saw Communists around every corner. If it had, maybe America in 2026 wouldn’t be enjoying declining vaccine rates and widespread resurgences of the measles and whooping cough. What a world.
The third father figure was a man named Robert Trivers. He was a professor at Harvard, a school RFK Jr. got into only because he’s a Kennedy. Trivers was an evolutionary biologist and a member of the Black Panther Party despite the minor detail that he was white. And oh yeah, he was later buddies with Jeffrey Epstein, who fronted him $40,000 for his research.
It’s cool, Trivers knew how to reciprocate this kindness:
Trivers also defended Epstein over charges that he paid for sex with underage girls (Epstein pleaded guilty in 2008 to prostitution-related charges), saying, “By the time they’re 14 or 15, they’re like grown women were 60 years ago, so I don’t see these acts as so heinous,” he said to Reuters.
If anyone needs us, we’ll be in the decontamination chamber until 2050 or so.
[NY Post]
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Back in the eighties there were a number of news stories about cattle mutilation, often blamed on aliens in flying saucers. I'm now pretty convinced that it was more probably RFK jr. in a mini-van.
They lobotomized the wrong one.