The Great Rape Debate (and other fun things to fight about on Facebook)

I just found out that Wolf peeks at my Facebook page. The one that corresponds to this website.

MMMMmmmkay…Few thoughts…first one being

Fuck

Deadpan, like Witcher says it.

Second? “That is way too much crazy for me to tuck back in.”

Said he thinks about me all the time and likes to look for messages from his True North. That’s what he calls me, Stella Polaris, Princess Panda Eyes, and most deliciously, simply mine.
I loved being loved like this.
He has spent actual man hours trying to learn about me in every way he can.
Which is amazing to me.

But but but back up… Instagram, cool, the good pics go there, and now messages for him. This blog, a bit of a minefield, but he is incredibly intelligent, he knows what he doesn’t want to read and doesn’t read it
But that there? …that is a scary place.

I started that thing over 6 years ago. It is Skynet, it is self-aware and I have no control over it anymore.
I started it because I lived in a cabin in the woods by myself and I was posting way too many memes on my normal Facebook.

It eventually became a place to post blog posts, support my friends and fellow writers, I met real life friends there too. Liza took me into her house. Sara and I have been to Casadega together. Good Karen scoped out my Airbnb in Texas to make sure I was close to what I needed.
I have Owen and Jean-Yves, Doyle and Dave. Legions of amazing warrior women.
They fight the good fight.
My real-life friends are there too.
I have also been recognized in public. It kept me company and scared the shit out of me and has become increasingly more violent since 45 took office. Incels, and homophobes and nazis, oh my.

And just like this blog, I left it to rot while I lived on the island of perdition and fuck boys.

I’m back bitches.

The new lil book will be available next week on Amazon and I am not sad about my 1.7 million post reach right now.

I wrote the Kobe Bryant article last week and just so happened Wolf was home sick from work.
He was being playful, but I had 3 days of internet battles about when a good time to talk about these things is, apparently never, the answer is never. I told him what I was doing and said I couldn’t stop him from reading it, but all things considered, if he wanted a peaceful day, maybe don’t open the article.

The first (and last) time the subject of my rape came up he almost snapped a chair in half 2.5 time zones away.

I hit publish.

I immediately wrote another article that he could read because I wanted to talk about both things equally, because they are both about consent. He read that one too and knew exactly what I was doing.
Told you he’s smart.

I didn’t know what to expect. I can write the fucking Iliad and 5 people read it, but I post something that says fuck or porn and 400 people go peek.

I don’t write poignant or political articles very often.  Last week I did.

As of now, 3000 people have read it, including Wolf.

The journalist who originally re tweeted the Daily Beast article and was suspended is now reinstated and currently residing in a hotel due to death and rape threats…for reposting something she didn’t write in the first place. The Washington Post has done nothing to protect her even though she informed them right away and deleted the tweets when asked. Nor have they apologized.

She is also a sexual assault survivor. Which I eluded to being a statistically high probability in the article.

So um, ya.

What the fuck is wrong with people?

Free speech as long as you agree with my speech?

Sorry, that is not how this works.

I read a study wherein the chemical response to someone being told they are wrong about something they believe in triggers an actual fight or flight response.

That’s fucking astute.

Except for the flight part. No one leaves quietly anymore. Just fight fight fight.

The thing I believe is the thing to be believed.

Nuh uh

Greta Thunberg ring a bell? 10 000 men attacking a 14-year-old girl because she wants billion-dollar companies to stop killing the planet?
And those are just the ones I noticed.
If you aren’t a billionaire you don’t have a dog in this fight.
Sit down and stop threatening a little girl.

White women voting for Roy Moore, a predator who wasn’t allowed to go to certain malls because he harassed teenage girls. But they didn’t like it when I called them out on it.

The Cheeto flavored POTUS? I don’t have the time or the energy to list his faults, lies, issues, charges. I will say, if you googled ‘untreated syphilis’ yesterday a picture of him came up. And that’s all I have to say about that.

What about the other? This new thing. Kobe Bryant.

Well, last I checked it was about a 50-50 split on “How dare you” and “Thank you”.

I dare.

I said yesterday that I can understand murder, I can. It can be justified in some cases.

Rape? Never. Literally no reason other than violence against women fueled by power tripping male entitlement and the fucking patriarchy.

If one rape victim feels like she might be heard because his death was met with the reminder of the vile things he did in life? Good.

If one kid sees his idol getting dragged through the mud for this and rethinks what he is about to do to the drunk girl at the frat party. Amen.

The status quo is you say something while the guy is alive, you might ruin his life.

If you say something after, it’s disrespectful.

What about the women?

The last time I got assaulted was on a Tinder date, my best friend and I were fighting. I couldn’t drive home because I was afraid he would follow me and I was afraid to go back in the house because she was mad at me and I didn’t have any fight left in me. The minute I finally stepped through the door and I told her what happened our fight was forgotten, and she put the kettle on and held me until I could calm down.

That is how it should be, and it isn’t.

 I have women on my page saying, ‘well I was raped, and I didn’t do what she did.’

First of all, I am so sorry you had to go through that, secondly…what?

When #metoo gained traction, it broke my heart. I’ve held literally ALL of my friends. And they have held me. And we’ve talked through what we did wrong and how to stop it in the future.  After bad dates, or strip club assaults, or even just when something triggers their PTSD from something that happened before we met. Like this for example.

What shocked me and made me feel like I had to start saying something is when a little girl I used to babysit, now 14 years old reposted #metoo. And another friend’s daughter and another and another and so on. And then my mother. I cannot begin to explain the crushing weight on my chest when I scrolled through the minefield Facebook was at the time and saw those 6 characters on my mother’s timeline.

I stopped shutting up about this.

Wolf read the article. Said he was proud of me and asked me if I would consider using my following and traction to set up a war fund to go after those who post online rape and death threats for women and children who don’t have the means to do it themselves.

I am considering it. I don’t know where to start, but I will try.

A year after I started my page, I got graphic pictures of decapitated women and rape threats from a dude in a trailer park 800 miles away. I’m grown. I have a very resourceful internet family that had his IP address tracked in under 5 minutes. I still checked all the locks on the doors for weeks after and every time one of the dogs barked in the night, I reached for the baseball bat beside my bed.

What about the others?

My girl at Nephilim Rising had a similar experience a few days ago because she dared mock 45’s spiritual advisor calling for the abortion and miscarriage of all satanic children. From the same governing body that brought you Space Force.

But I post something about abortion and rape being the same basic control over women’s bodies and I have to wade through 350 comments about how disgusting I am.

I am not disgusting. Body autonomy is a basic human right.

We need some new rules.

Your ex-girlfriend’s friend who used to be friends with a girl who knew her is not a reliable source of information. Not back in high school and definitely not now.

We are literally plagued with bots on social media. Check your sources, I know its hard, you gotta click the little *i* on the article and make sure they aren’t posting other articles about mutant robot spiders taking over Australia (I actually read this) before you share it.

That one guy on Youtube reposting his own disguised voice over a video from Anonymous doesn’t know what is happening in China just because 40 000 other people fell for it and watched it.
I was one of 40 000 until I saw the number of followers and got some sense.

Don’t say anything to anyone on the internet you wouldn’t say out loud, sitting across from me over a cup of coffee or in front of your mother.

Women are not things. We don’t exist for male pleasure or power trips or as incubators.

Until science starts putting something in the water to raise intelligence and lower rage, if a girl says a man hurt her, the statistics say he did. If a man says a woman assaulted him, believe him too.

Women, be better to the good men, stop making excuses for the bad ones and start being kinder to other women. Everyone has their own past and struggle you know nothing about.

Myself included.

I would love to go back to posting things about love. I am in it and it is glorious. But, in case you hadn’t noticed, shit is on fire, yo.