The Love Song of J. Edgar Hoover

I thought I should share this with you, kindly published in «The Australian» newspaper:

John Tranter

    The Love Song of J. Edgar Hoover

Punish me with jugs of honey
Tie me down with bramble twine,
Stuff my mouth with wads of money –
    Please be mine.
Kick me with your winklepickers,
Gag me with your wrinkled knickers,
Make me lick your brutal shoe:
    Love me do.

Garnish me with couch and fescue,
Telegram your roughest blessing,
Dress me in an acid dressing,
Be my howling search and rescue –
When I’m lost and all alone,
    Bring me home.

The supposition that Hoover was secretly a cross-dresser, or was gay, or into S and M, has a weird aptness, but it should be treated with great caution. Tom Leonard, in the UK «Daily Mail» (not a paper to be trusted) wrote on 19 November 2011:

The cross-dressing claims first surfaced in «Official And Confidential», a 1994 Hoover biography by former BBC journalist Anthony Summers.

Not only did he publish the extraordinary story [about a gay orgy including cross-dressing] that the late New York socialite Susan Rosenstiel told him, but he argued that it helped to clear up one of the great mysteries about the FBI director — why for so many years he resisted investigating the Mafia, arguing, against all the evidence, that the Mob was not a serious threat.

Summers believes the Mafia was able to blackmail Hoover with evidence that he was not only a closet homosexual but also a transvestite.

‘Without this, the Mafia as we know it, might never have gained its hold on America,’ claimed Summers.

He has had to defend his startling claims after attacks from rival biographers who say Mrs Rosenstiel was an unreliable source because she believed Hoover had helped her husband, Lewis, during their acrimonious divorce battle.

They also note that she was jailed in 1971 for perjury in a civil case against her husband. It was unrelated to her Hoover claims but, insists her detractors, shows she cannot be trusted.

You may be inclined not to like or trust Mr Hoover, but would you trust a “New York socialite”? I wouldn’t.