You can read the trial transcript, better yet here's your Cliff Notes version of the facts in this case: In 1977, 13-year-old Samantha Geimer was hired to model for Polanski, who subsequently took her to Jack Nicholson's house and proceeded to give her champagne and Quaaludes before having oral, vaginal, and anal sex with her. Polanski pled guilty to unlawful sex with a minor, and then fled the country out of fear of extended jail time (it seems the plea was, he hoped, a way to get out of actual imprisonment beyond the 42 days he initially served). Whether or not the sex took place is not in contention here; both the victim and the perpetrator agree that it happened.

No, the matter seemingly up for debate is whether it is 1) lawful and 2) ethical and/or necessary for Polanski to be imprisoned now for a crime committed so long ago. (The answer to 1 is "hell, yes," by the way. I don't understand why there's any argument on 2, but apparently there is.)

Color me naive, but I wasn't aware that there's some sort of statute of limitation on heinous transgressions against a child. The fact that there's an entire contingent of people claiming that "Polanski has suffered enough" has blown my mind. Polanski had a rough life, you see. He's been living in exile! He's suffered enough! Why drag up old memories? Even his victim has gone on record stating that she doesn't think he deserves further jail time. And the more I read about the petition calling for Polanski's release (and the big-name stars signing it), the more I wonder if the entire world has lost its collective mind. (If you really want to get depressed, check out Liza at culturekitchen's running tally of "rape apologists" via the petition.)

Bitch Magazine's Kelsey Wallace cheers on Kate Harding's comments at Salon, in a piece titled, "Roman Polanski, Arrested for Raping a Child. Because He Did:"

Harding kicks it off on the right foot by pointing out the sheer ridiculousness of feeling sorry for a man who RAPED A 13-YEAR OLD, admitted it, and then fled to France to live a fabulous life of Oscar wins and villas and probably lots of European glamour and delicious cheeses. Why on earth would we shed a tear for that ass hat?

And if you don't find yourself cheering along at this clip of Chris Rock on Jay Leno, well, the fine ladies at Jezebel are only too happy to elucidate:

What's so disturbing [...] isn't that people are claiming our legal system is flawed. It's that people - be they in Hollywood or your average citizen - are grasping for all kinds of ways to twist this back on the victim and to exonerate Polanski by denying this crime ever happened. So you want him to walk on a technicality? Fine. Admit that! But why are we denying that the rape ever happened?

It did happen.

Polanski admitted as such. So are people so invested in the idea that if we pretend it isn't "rape-rape" then the matter will be resolved?

As Rock says at the end of the clip: "The United States, we want to capture Osama Bin Laden, and murder him. We don't want to rape him - that would be barbaric!"

And if you haven't heard this "rape-rape" bit, yet, you can direct your thanks to Whoopi Goldberg for that, where her comments on The View seem to indicate that if you say it twice, it becomes something more permissible; again, commentary from Jezebel:

What is worrisome about Whoopi's argument is that she refuses to call a 43 year old man having sex with an unconscious 13 year old girl "rape". She may have personal, possibly guilty-parent reasons for not accepting this, but as tangled up as this case is, the fact that it was rape is one of the least controversial things about it. Roman Polanski admitted to drugging and having sex with a child, and in the country in which he did it, that is rape. (Though nice try Whoopi with the "Europeans have sex with children all the time!" argument, or whatever that was.)

Amelia McDonell-Parry at The Frisky is enraged by the commentary on The View, as well, and darkly concludes:

And shame on Whoopi. Let’s hope her granddaughter never has to weigh the differences between rape, “rape-rape,” or the way Europeans like to do it.

Amber at MamaPop is able to muster some sympathy for Polanski's tortured past, but clarifies that it's not an excuse:

A lot of apologetic rhetoric was bandied about by Goldberg, Behar and Gilbert during this segment. Yes, Roman Polanski had a rough life. A survivor of the Holocaust, Polanski also lost his wife Sharon Tate in the brutal Manson slayings in 1969. Those are horrors I would not see visited upon anyone, even a rapist. But that doesn't make it okay to rape 13-year-old girls. There was some discussion about his films, though at least they agreed (however much of it was lip-service), that making great art doesn't excuse one from heinous crimes.

But let's just be fucking real for a minute. It obviously does, because the French government has been willing to dismiss the crimes of its adopted son Polanski for years, simply because he makes great films. People don't want to believe that famous people are capable of infamous crimes, because we hold them up as something more than us, as something better. Famous people who commit crimes aren't criminals! They're eccentric! tortured artists! I can't believe for a second that someone with different credentials from Polanski's, even with the same traumatic past, would be given us pass like Whoopi seems to want to give Polanski.

Here on BlogHer, member alyssaroyse writes with clarity about the need to separate the man from the act:

I agree with others who have said that who Roman Polanski is as a person shouldn't taint the lens through which we look at his art. However, his art cannot taint how we look at him as a person either. He raped a child, he admitted it, and he fled the country - after paying her off - rather than serving his punishment.

Justice here may be delayed, but it should not be denied.

Liz B at A Chair, A Fireplace & A Tea Cozy offers a bit of perspective on the issue of time served:

Polanski served 42 days. Robert Downey, Jr, spent more time in prison for drug charges -- where no one but Downey was hurt -- than Polanski did for his actions. Polanski has two consequences he has to face in the courtroom: first, the sentence for his guilty plea. Second, his sentence for fleeing the country. It's not just the plea he has to face. Paris Hilton got 23 days for her victimless crimes; shouldn't Polanski serve at least that for fleeing? Especially since if Polanski hadn't run away, his victim would not now be held up to abuse and slut-shaming by Hollywood. The consequences of his flight include the increased, continuing trauma and attacks against her.

The best (I hesitate to use that word, here, but it fits) perspective I've been able to find on why, perhaps, Polanski should not be prosecuted, comes from Mary Elizabeth Williams at Salon. Rather than calling for Polanski to be exonerated because "it was a long time ago" and "he's so brilliant," she at least has the victim's interests in mind:

[S]exual abuse changes a person, forever. It doesn’t make her eternally a victim; it doesn’t taint her or ruin her. It does, however, create a before and after. It’s what happens in the after that matters.

[...]

I want to leave Roman Polanski’s victim alone. I don’t want to make her the official spokesperson for sexual victimhood, or relive a life-changing horror. I don't want to presume what's best, when I don't have to live with her nightmares. For Polanski to live out his days scot-free in European ease feels wrong and unfair. It makes a whole lot of us uncomfortable. But I’d rather live with my own revulsion at his actions than carry out some rote exercise in feel-good amends if it means any measure of ease and peace for his victim. I believe her when she says, “It was the media that ruined my life.” And I don’t want to be in the same boat with the man who raped her.

I appreciate the sentiment, here, even though I disagree with the reasoning. Polanski's victim has already been victimized by the media. Twice. Releasing Polanski at this point would only victimize her a third time, in my opinion. As awful as it is that victims of sexual crimes are often the ones ripped apart in the media in the wake of these events, that ship has already sailed.

And what message does it send the would-be rapists, or the "well I thought she was older" or the "she said she wanted it" shrugging, unapologetic child molesters of the world if he's allowed to go free, again?

So where do you stand? Do the crime, do the time? Or thirty years passed and a victim's willingness to let it drop should make it all go away?

Whatever the eventual outcome, I just want to say this: Samantha Geimer, I'm sorry this happened to you. You didn't deserve to be raped and you certainly don't deserve the media rodeo show that's going on now.

BlogHer Contributing Editor Mir also blogs about issues parental and otherwise at Woulda Coulda Shoulda, and about the joys of mindful retail therapy at Want Not.

I still think there are folks who jump into this melee in a manner that's more alarmist than thoughtful, but -- not surprisingly -- there's always a cautionary tale to be found.

Meet Julie Myerson. Myerson is a British author known for various writings, perhaps most notably a long-running newspaper column she wrote about her kids. And now she has an extremely controversial book out, "The Lost Child," detailing her son's supposed addiction to marijuana. Myerson's son is only 20 at this point, and he's speaking out against his mother's version of events, and indeed her long-standing history of using her children for writing fodder in ways which were painful to them.

Salon's Amy Benfer asks, Is it ever okay to tar your kid in print? She shares this when detailing the subterfuge that surrounded Myerson's newspaper column:

According to Jake, he first asked his mother if she was the author around Episode 6. She said, "No, of course not." He asked again a year later, after he'd been kicked out of the house. "She promised she would never do that to us," he says. After that, again, according to him, she actually concocted a story about "some underhanded journalist" who must be secretly writing the column while using details of her own family and even "made a few calls" claiming to "investigate" this mysterious person.

If true, this is fucking bonkers, right? It's one thing to write about your children upfront, yet another to write about your kids under the cloak of anonymity, and something else entirely to write about your kids in a way they most certainly recognize, then claim they are the crazy ones and invent some weird cloak and dagger shit to explain it all. Myerson finally gave up the column, explaining that it "began to feel less like some kind of benign, semi-comic revenge and more like a betrayal." Anyone else wondering where to draw the line between using your position as a writer to exact "semi-comic revenge" on your children for committing the sin of being surly teenagers and "betraying" them?

Much of the back-and-forth I'm reading online centers on the issue of whether a marijuana addiction is physiologically possible, and I'm here to tell you that I don't know and I don't care. That's not the issue. That's so not the issue. To my mind, the issue began with the newspaper column. It began with the lying. The fact that this woman then went ahead and wrote a book that essentially ruined her (young) son's reputation is the final, ballsy, icing on the crap cake. But the book, even, is not the issue.

The issue is what responsibility we bear to our children when we share our families with the world.

Myerson is not unique in writing about her family; far from it. What's distinctive about her writing is the seemingly calculating coldness and undertones of revenge she embraces while doing so. Myerson is unapologetic about what she says, why she said it, and -- I'll admit, this is the kicker, for me -- the dishonesty with her kids while she was doing it.

Jezebel's Anna N. is willing to see both sides of this drama, but still can't condone Myerson's actions:

Jake himself is very young and not exactly restrained — he talks about his siblings, one of whom is still a minor, and says his parents should have gotten a divorce — and it's hard to believe his side of the story is the unalloyed truth. The image he paints (with eager assists by the Daily Mail) of Julie Myerson as unrepentant fame-whore is probably oversimplified. That said, Myerson does sound like a piece of work.[...]

[D]oes "the importance of publicizing the nightmare of teenage drug use" — the justification Myerson and her husband use for publishing The Lost Child — really outweigh a young man's desire to keep his painful adolescence private? In the Times, Susan Cheever basically says: totally! Author of two addiction memoirs, one of which describes her assignations with two men while her daughter was sick, she explains, "I strongly believe everybody has the right to their own story." But everyone's story includes other people's, and artistic autonomy becomes a lot less admirable when those people are your children.

The New York Times Room for Debate Blog asked four writers to weigh in on this issue, and Melanie Gideon's boundaries are very clear:

I made a conscious decision when writing my book that it would not be a tell-all memoir. I wasn’t interested in airing my family’s dirty laundry because I was interested in still having a family when the book was published.

My young son appears regularly in my memoir. Some might say he plays a major role. He is wise and kind and in many ways carries the soul of the book. He never whines or spends hours in front of the computer — at least not on the page. That is the beauty of the tell-some memoir.

Personally, I find Gideon's reasoning a bit too simplistic, though I admire and applaud the sentiment behind it. For me, as a reader, I'm not all that interested in the kid who never whines. He's 1-dimensional. While I agree to the premise of the tell-some memoir, I can also think of half a dozen instances where "tell-some" equated to "tell so little I lost interest." (Please note, I haven't read Gideon's memoir. Just pointing out that sometimes sanitization of a story can render it a bit flat.)

A similar approach, though somewhat more complex and reasoned, comes from Kate Hopper at Mother Words, retelling some bits from a recent interview she gave:

There’s an ethical dilemma in being a parent and a writer of realistic fiction (or nonfiction), that is, a person whose real life and relationships can be a starting point for creative work. When your children are very young, you’re free to comment on their behavior—as well as your own parenting skills—in their presence; as they get older, they don’t want to be the subjects even of positive conversation (“Look how she’s grown!”).

She goes on to say:

I think my kids understand what are for me the two enormous truths of this parenting/writing experience: 1) I love my children wildly, unreservedly, and 2) I can’t live my life without writing things down.

It is this last bit that changes things for me. Look; I come at this topic from a position of extreme bias -- I write about my kids all the time. Obviously I believe it can be done thoughtfully, responsibly, and in a way that's not unhealthy. In my opinion, Hopper has explained the most important ingredient for a writer's ability to write about her children without doing damage: Unconditional, wild, obvious-to-everyone love and adoration.

This should be self-evident, no?

I happen to think it's okay to say less-than-glowing things about your children, sometimes, provided that 1) it's the exception rather than the rule, and 2) it would be impossible to read your words without it being overwhelmingly obvious that you are wildly in love with your subject.

The argument can be made that children play a part in our personal stories, and we can share them in that context and occasionally find them challenging or irritating and say so and it won't damage them that we shared that. It can be done. I know it can because hundreds (thousands?) of writers have successfully walked this line ahead of me and Myerson and everyone else. Can it be tricky? Absolutely. But can it be done? Yes, I believe it can.

When the love is uncertain -- or when trust is absent, as I think the story of Myerson lying to her children about her column demonstrates -- this balancing act falls down. Venting about a child in that circumstance offers only embarrassment and hurt, without the cushion of adoration to balance out the less savory bits.

Katy Murr writes that Myerson should've said no:

Whether she should have said No to him, and kicked him out, I don’t know. I do, however, stamp my heel in the mud firmly in saying that she should have said no to the book. Write it, if you want, if it makes you feel better. But don’t publish it yet, when someone else is trying to live his life, and will have this following him around for a significant amount of time.

What does she hope to achieve? To alienate her son further? To earn more money? To hope that people will read, and think, ‘how brave, how wonderful that she’s told intimate, personal stories about her son’?

I still believe that writers can share about their children in thoughtful, enlightening, and non-hurtful ways, without stripping out all the reality and leaving just a veneer of harmony and perfection. But Julie Myerson's story appears to be a pretty illustrative cautionary tale of how not to do it.

BlogHer Contributing Editor Mir also blogs about issues parental and otherwise at Woulda Coulda Shoulda, and about the joys of mindful retail therapy at Want Not.

What's more, plenty of women love the show just as much or more than their male counterparts, for both the content and the cast.

Today Liz at The Park Bench declared the Mythbusters the "Nerd Men of the Month":

[T]he thing that makes this show so much fun to watch are the MythBusters themselves. Hyneman and Savage are perfect foils for each other with Hyneman as the taciturn, methodic one (or "the James May" in "Top Gear" terms) and Savage as the exuberant, intuitive-leap guy. And then there's the trio of Belleci, Imahara and Byron who are just flat-out fun to watch. Seeing the three of them do wonderfully crazy things like waterskiing behind a cruise ship or dropping cars from an airplane is a vicarious thrill. Each and every cast member on this show makes learning look fun -- and let's face it, there's not nearly enough of that on TV these days.

Interestingly enough, the Mythbusters maintain that an educational slant was never their intention. Take a look:

Lindsay of Life Stuffing names Mythbusters as one of her entertainment picks, while NerdMom of Nerd Family shares that Grant is her favorite Mythbuster.

My family is comprised of rabid Mythbusters fans, from the oldest right down to the youngest. In fact, I once shamelessly begged a fellow blogger to procure cast signatures for my kids, and then my husband complained because he didn't get one. Ha!

Maggie Furlong of AOL's Inside TV blog did 5 Questions with the hosts a while back. In response to a question about whether it's "as fun as it looks," Jamie Hyneman said:

It's been one hell of an education for us. There is no other line of work that I can think of that would compare to this. We're just out there exploring the world at large, anything that strikes our curiosity. And yes, we have to get it on film, we have to show up on time and work hard, but it just is absolutely wonderful. We're tickled pink.

Meanwhile, did you know that Mac|Life editor-in-chief Leslie Ayers is a Mythbusters fan? It's true! She even shares 10 Coolest Things We Saw at the Mythbusters Studio after a visit, positively reveling in the geekishness of it all:

9. Buster the crash-test dummy leaning against an enormous fake butt encased in denim.

Seeing Buster in person was awesome by itself, but when we ran into him on the shop floor reclining casually against an enormous faux backside, we were struck by the pure nerd-lishousness of it all.

If you're not already watching Mythbusters, and if you're not watching it because you think it's "stuff guys like," think again. I mean, it helps if you like it when they blow stuff up, but it's hardly a requirement.

My name is Mir, and I pink puffy heart the Mythbusters.

BlogHer Contributing Editor Mir also blogs about issues parental and otherwise at Woulda Coulda Shoulda, and about the joys of mindful retail therapy at Want Not.

Once school starts, it's game on. And this year is proving our most challenging yet. In this corner, we have Talky McTalkerson -- able to ignore an entire lunchbox in favor of kibbitzing with his pals for the entire lunch period. In the other corner, we have my newly-minted middle schooler, who leaves for school at 8:00 and has lunch at... 10:30. Really. (Don't get me started on that.)

This means that on the one hand, I need to give my son a filling enough breakfast to last him pretty much the entire day, if need be. But on the other hand, I need to give my daughter a good start to the day with a breakfast that packs a nutritional punch without leaving her feeling full, otherwise she won't eat lunch (and she doesn't get home until close to dinnertime, so that would be a problem).

What's a mom to do?

Well, they get completely different breakfasts. And now that they go to different schools which start at different times, that seems to be working out okay.

My son loves yogurt, so about half the time he eats a big bowl of yogurt and fruit for breakfast. I spike it with wheat germ, flax, and/or salba to make it a little bit heartier. On mornings when he wants cereal, instead, we stick to a variety of low-sugar, whole-grain, organic options (it's amazing what manufacturers are allowed to label as cereal these days, otherwise...), and I try to get him to eat a piece of fruit, as well. This seems to hold him pretty well.

For my daughter, I am now all about the smoothie. I can pack a ton of nutrition into the blender, and as long as it's a breakfast she takes through a straw, she doesn't complain that she's still full at lunch time. My general smoothie recipe is "plain yogurt, orange juice, and other stuff." We make new creations every day, throwing in browning bananas and other fresh fruits we have on hand, or breaking into my stash of frozen fruits (which are already bagged up and designated for smoothies) to come up with the best recipes. So far my favorite is the orange-mango-lime-almond one we did, but my daughter votes for orange-peach-raspberry. I throw handfuls of spinach or kale in, too, for extra nutrition -- they blend up and leave no discernible taste. And if I'm using a berry that has a little "grit" to it (like the tiny seeds on strawberries and raspberries), I can toss in a tablespoon of salba without her being any the wiser.

Are you looking around for healthy breakfast ideas? Here are some of my favorites:

Kathy at Happy. Healthy. Life. has rounded up her back-to-school breakfast series, and if you don't find something in there that appeals, well, it may be time to branch out. I mean, I understand that not everyone is going to go for the tofu-pasta scramble, but those tiki squares look like cake for breakfast, to me! (And she's got about a zillion smoothie recipes, too.)

Over at Amy's Table you'll find a great recipe for homemade energy bars, which is a particularly appealing option for older kids.

Yvelette Stines is over at SheKnows, sharing the breakfast love for whole grains. I've been preaching the gospel of steel cut oats for years, but she's got me beat with recipes for quinoa and millet, I think.

And at I'm an Organizing Junkie, organizing breakfast is on everybody's mind. A lot of the commenters are discussing assigning different foods to different days, which sounds like a great solution for both organizing and expanding the palates of picky eaters.

How're those school-day breakfasts shaping up at your house? How are you keeping it quick and healthy this year? I'd love to get some new ideas, so please share!

BlogHer Contributing Editor Mir also blogs about issues parental and otherwise at Woulda Coulda Shoulda, and about the joys of mindful retail therapy at Want Not.