If it wasn’t for Black Friday, there’d be a whole lot of poor people without computers, a whole lot of kids without Christmas presents, a whole lot of class shame in general because in order to keep up with the middle class, the lower class & the junkie class has to save all year to buy the nice shit, the big TV, the video game system, the cellphone, the sofa bed, the shoes without the holes. Just to pass. It grosses me out when it’s like, shitty manarchists who talk the most shit on Black Friday because now that they aren’t living at home where that shit was all taken for granted they can act all high-and-mighty and over it, and type shit like “I don’t even own a TV” from their $1500 Macbook. Let the poor people get their $200 PCs however they can. Let em use them at school, let em use them at home on Facebook the same way you do. Let people watch a fucking TV if they want to. Do you even have any idea WHO you are criticizing?
Shut the fuck up about Black Friday and let broke people have some of what you have.
edit: Wow, I sure do curse a lot.
nikki knows whats up.
this is primarily a personal post. it is not entirely about the appropriateness of rape jokes themselves, but rather how they impact people, myself included. it is an attempt to provide insight into a subject that is joked about on twitter (and elsewhere) regularly.
many of us follow the same people. i can’t tell you how many stories of rape, sexual assault, street harassment, and even incest, that many of these people have shared with me. these are people who interact with you regularly, and might star and retweet you, which is a huge favor and provides personal validation (let’s not pretend it isn’t awesome).
these are also the people who read your victim-blaming, trauma-minimizing rape jokes. i am not talking satire, i am talking about the jokes that are tastelessly and intentionally made to appeal to the lowest common denominator in order to achieve the type of attention and validation i previously mentioned.
(tmi warning) next week i have to go in for what is supposed to be a yearly women’s health check-up. yeah, the whole stirrups and digging around in your vag check-up. i have managed to put it off for an extra six months, but now i am at the point where i have to go or my doctor will not continue to treat me. (yes, this is legal.) i have made and canceled numerous appointments because the thought of going in gives me panic attacks and makes me cry.
these appointments are awkward and uncomfortable for most women, but unless you have been physically violated, you can’t imagine the horror and fear and traumatic reminders of that event caused by these medically necessary and potentially life-saving check-ups.
basically i am saying is that i would rather risk cancer than have a doctor put anything inside me.
knowing that people think rape can be funny outside of smart, humorous social commentary that makes you think - even if delivered offensively - really hurts. people don’t seem to realize how many areas of your life sexual assault can impact.
risking cancer is just one of the ways it has affected my life. i have nightmares, fear leaving my house, and assume all men are out to hurt me. i have lost friends and ruined great relationships. i have paid thousands of dollars for therapy and medications to stop flashbacks, nightmares, and physically paralyzing anxiety. (remember “the client” with brad renfro, and how his little brother didn’t talk or move? yeah, like that.)
my sex life has always been pretty great, but not always. i have dissociated during sex, meaning it feels like i am not there, that it isn’t really happening. it is as if your body and heart want to be there, but your brain wants to run and hide. it makes sex feel lonely and solitary, dirty and wrong. i have been promiscuous because i feel like it doesn’t matter and i would rather give men what they want then have them take it from me. i have been in loving relationships where i have interrupted an awesome, safe fuckfest with terrified screaming, crying, and punching because my i felt like i was being sucked through a dark tunnel back into what happened to me.
jokes about rape can be funny. using the word casually is not. joking about it casually is not. i can’t control what people say, but i can ask that people be more thoughtful in their use of the word and subject in comedy - and really, that’s all i am asking. think of me, think of your friends who might not have shared their experiences with you because of your words. it does impact us. it makes me feel ashamed and like my experiences are meaningless. it is humiliating and painful. worst of all, it makes me feel like people don’t care - and this is why people don’t come forward, why sexual assault is under-reported. if it doesn’t emotionally crush you to think a friend might not come to you for help because of your actions, then you should rethink what you say and whether it is more important to be friend or receive validation from strangers.
is your joke worth risking causing these feelings in another human? who is the punchline? who benefits from it, and what are the actual benefits? does it help change the perception of who is at fault for sexual assault and how it is or should be handled by society and law enforcement, or does it minimize the seriousness of sexual assault and, in turn, reinforce a destructive culture that blames and slowly destroys the victims?
i see the latter on twitter more than i have ever experienced it anywhere else. should i just not sign in to avoid it? is it my fault that i don’t find these cheap jokes funny? should it really be my responsibility to avoid jokes where my trauma the punchline, or should it be your responsibility to be more insightful, informed, and creative? should we tell survivors AND encourage society to be less sensitive, or should you just step it up with your material or keep the pandering bullshit to yourself?
congratulations if you have read this far along. i think it is important to reiterate that i am not trying to dictate what you can or cannot say, but that it would benefit you, your audience, and society as a whole if we, one by one, treated the subject the way it should be treated - with respect to the damage it causes to the quality of life for survivors, their family, and their friends.
THANKS DUDES AND DUDETTES.
Photothèque imaginaire de Shuji Terayama, les gens de la famille Chien Dieu.
“What is important is to spread confusion, not eliminate it.”
― Salvador Dalí
Amanda Nørgaard by Sofia Sanchez and Mauro Mongiello
Karen Elson photographed by Amanda de Cadenet