Tonight, We Feast On Human Flesh

For infidelity, Tiger Woods receives censure and the upturned noses of the entire world. ATP's Player of The Decade is criticized by television reporters and journalists from around the world, his every single following day tracked and pored over. Will he do something again? Will he talk to someone about it? What will he say? How dare he??

Random talk-shows on random networks discuss perversity, unfaithfulness and Tiger Woods all in the same breath. Celebrities offer condolences or issue carefully worded neutral statements, a barely concealed schadenfreude dripping like drool from their mouths.

I don't support what Tiger Woods did. But we still don't know if he had any reasons to push him into such affairs, seemingly in all corners of the popular world. So I also don't support our collective hypocrisy.

Why is that the women he slept with get called on talk shows? Why is it that one after another, as more and more women come forward to claim relationships with the drowning ship that is Mr. Woods, they only gain more fame and more sympathy?

Each and every one of them knew of his marital status. They knew he had children too. What made them get into a relationship with a married man? What kind of mind do they have to be involved in such an affair with such a public person? Surely they didn't think it would always remain a secret? Of course. If you live in America, it is simple to see. It is, both financially and socially, a golden opportunity to have an affair with a married man. Get whisked away to hotelrooms all over the world, be showered with gifts and apartments and cars. Rat on him whenever you choose to, say when his money for you runs out, and society will come forward to offer you a shoulder to cry on for your sorrows and a prime time slot on David Letterman or Oprah Winfrey to give out the spicy gossip.

Again, I do not condone Tiger Woods' actions. I only condone the people who do not dole out the same social exile and criticism to the women who were involved with him.

There are 14 of them, apparently. What are they thinking of now? When some others had come forward to dent and then destroy the sportstar's life, what made them also come forward and throw a few bricks of their own? Where did that sudden conscience come from?

What were they thinking of while they indulged him all those years? Why were they not tormented then by guilt?

One woman came out with the truth, looking to cash in on this shot to instant fame. The others wanted a share of the spotlight too, and came scampering out before the spotlight died out and the story got old. They must be running right now too. It will be a tough few months for them. Doing their best and worst to get on the top talk shows, to have only their voice heard and cheered and applauded by a teleprompted studio audience. Making their story appear most unique - how they hated him all the while, how he was lousy in the act, how sweet he was to them, how swept off their feet they felt, how kinky he was - anything to grab hold of the camera and keep it on them while they still could.

They will be running very, very hard. There is so much to do. In a few weeks, the first books will come out - "My Life With Tiger" or "Behind the Greens" or something else. The first book will sell the most copies. So they will have to run very hard now. Magazine interviews must be sought, with Playboy, Time, People or Good Housekeeping. Secrets must be blurted, by accidents feigned and anger precisely churned, and tantalising details must be released to the press at specific intervals.

I feel sorry for Tiger Woods. Not only is he getting divorced and losing half his fortunes, he is also going to be the most emptied out man in the country. He betrayed a wife for love or lust or fun. Who knows? And now he is being betrayed by every single women he trusted instead, for money and fame leeched out of his own body.

We are a society of cannibals, with no civilization and a God to whom we sacrifice everything truly precious. Occasionally, when the food runs out on us, and it does so every now and then, we pull down one of our own. The bigger he is, the better. We raise up that God, enshrining him and worshipping him. We lift him up over our heads and sing songs in his honour. Then we feast on his flesh, mocking him for thinking he could be great.

We will run out of food one day and wonder what went wrong where.