In the land of no consequences, it’s finally payback time

Despite what Woody Allen and half of Hollywood’s directors are telling us to think, it is absolutely A-OK that Roman Polanski was finally caught.

I don’t care how many Oscars or stepdaughter-marrying friends you have. Or how brilliant, creative and accomplished you might be. Or what a sweetheart your village bread maker thinks you are. If one drugs and rapes a 13-year-old, then one’s subsequent life should not involve fancy chalets or crusty baguettes — that is, unless one’s prison bunkmate has just suggested some light role-playing from “The Sound of Music.”

And yet there are people who think Polanski’s arrest is nothing short of an injustice — based on some notion that the score was settled in 1978 despite the fact that the cowardly lion skipped out on his sentencing because he feared it might be too fair.

The actress Whoopi Goldberg explained it this way: “I know it wasn’t rape-rape. I think it was something else, but I don’t believe it was rape-rape. He pled guilty to having sex with a minor and he went to jail, and when they let him out he said, ‘You know what, this guy’s going to give me 100 years in jail. I’m not staying.’ And that’s why he left.”

Unshackle this man at once!

You see, Whoopi says it wasn’t rape-rape. And as we all know, when it comes to sexual predation, it’s only “rape-rape” if you don’t like him like him. It was just, you know, chilling in a hot tub with a kid who happened to be drunk and high from the champagne and Qualuudes he gave her and naked because he made her take her clothes off. And, well, stuff happens. C’est la vie. Shrug-shrug to rape-rape.

The thing that gets me the most is how some people are always so shocked and seemingly caught off-guard when the results of their actions are exactly what they were rumored to be in the first place. Have we learned nothing about consequences in our lifetime?

In the past few weeks alone, we have seen that doing drugs with your dad can lead to even more depraved acts — the likes of which led to many moments of seismic retching on my part (thank you for that, Mackenzie Phillips). We also learned that if you make a few unsavory deposits where you eat, your name can easily be deleted from all existence (Jon Gosselin, meet “Kate Plus Eight” and a little something called “this gravy train has ended, son”). And, guess what, Gov. Mark Sanford, if you abandon your values and responsibilities for some Argentinian lovin’ and old-fashioned hypocrisy, people are probably not going to trust you to do your job right. Sorry for the spoiler alert.

As for Polanski, I suggest he learn a little something about cats because when a mouse is finally caught, sharp teeth and claws will always follow.

Vive l’extradition!

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