Jurassic Prick's Child-Rape Fantasies Revealed

Kids love Michael Crichton's popular dinosaur stories, but they probably don't know he's a demented right-wing crank who stuffs his wooden-plotted thrillers with puerile attacks on his many, many enemies -- mostly journalists who call him on his endless sociopathic bullshit.

The latest victim of Crichton's typing-with-boxing-gloves characterization skill is New Republic writer Michael Crowley, who magically becomes a child rapist in the wonderful imagination of Michael Crichton. Details after the jump.

(Note: While we watched one of the dinosaur movies in the 1980s and have often seen Crichton paperbacks at the airport, we've got no idea what's in the actual books. If they really are nothing but angry attacks on his hundreds of enemies in the press, we might have to pick one up from the library sale or something.)

Crowley wrote a loooong article about Crichton's quackery for TNR, and the dinosaur writer's response was to create this charming character in a new book:

Alex Burnet was in the middle of the most difficult trial of her career, a rape case involving the sexual assault of a two-year-old boy in Malibu. The defendant, thirty-year-old Mick Crowley, was a Washington-based political columnist who was visiting his sister-in-law when he experienced an overwhelming urge to have anal sex with her young son, still in diapers. Crowley was a wealthy, spoiled Yale graduate and heir to a pharmaceutical fortune. ...

It turned out Crowley's taste in love objects was well known in Washington, but [his lawyer]--as was his custom--tried the case vigorously in the press months before the trial, repeatedly

characterizing Alex and the child's mother as "fantasizing feminist fundamentalists" who had made up the whole thing from "their sick, twisted imaginations." This, despite a well-documented hospital examination of the child. (Crowley's penis was small, but he had still caused significant tears to the toddler's rectum.)

This, as the actual journalist Michael Crowley explains, is known as the "small penis rule." If an author defames you in a book, you're unlikely to sue if you need to claim you're the character with the small penis. This is why Ann Coulter never sues anybody.

According to people who have read Crichton's paperbacks, most of his stories are about journalists (or Martin Sheen) being horribly killed by whatever Monster Rabbits, or global-warming scientists actually being serial killers or Space Robots or something.

We're hoping the increasingly unstable pulp writer will put a Wonkette in his next book. Would he be so crude as to have a Washington gossip blogger named, say, "Anne Mary Cocks" giving blowjobs for quarters outside Union Station while simultaneously aborting some of Rick Santorum's unborn children? Is he a big enough asshole to do that? Let's wait and see ....

 Michael Crichton, Jurassic Prick [TNR]