I'm Just Really Sick of This

I live a very privileged and protected life. By global standards--even 1st world standards--I'm healthy, wealthy, educated, employed, safe in my majority culture, with strong family and social networks. I am lucky. The worst I have to deal with is my own anxiety/avoidance and tendency to procrastinate.

But the rape culture still sucks. I'm so tired of it. I try to forget about it--I want to forget about it--but sooner or later it's right up there in my face again in the lives of my patients or my family and friends.

How many women do I know who haven't been sexually assaulted--their boundaries smashed flat, their autonomy disrespected, their bodily integrity trampled upon and their sense of safety violated? Right now, of the women I've spoken to this week, in and out of psychotherapy--about one in four. One in four not sexually assaulted at one time or another in their lives. They tell me this randomly. Couples therapy, ten sessions into it--oh yeah, by the way, my first sexual experience was a rape. Anxiety disorder--I was molested when I was little, but that couldn't have anything to do with it, could it? Depression--I wonder if the fact that my ex-boyfriend date-raped me last year might be affecting my mood now?

And there's no recourse. I told but nobody believed me. My mom said to shut up about it. The prosecutor said it was "He said/she said" and there wasn't evidence for a case. It was just fondling not penetration. She was too young to really remember so it doesn't matter. She wanted it even if she did change her mind at the last minute. She shouldn't have led him on. She shouldn't have been: drunk; dressed like that; out that late; such a slut; so sexy-looking; so stupid; so unprotected; so available.

Rape is inevitable as long as we keep thinking this way--as long as we focus all our prevention efforts on the victims of sexual assault and not on the perpetrators.

Some days I am just full of rage. Sometimes I think I can afford to be angry because I am not one of the wounded. But even I hesitate to address the ones who actually do the raping. OMG I'll hurt their feelings. They'll be offended that I think they could be capable of behavior like that. They'll get mad at me.

Today I'm just too angry to care.

No rape jokes, rape as a compliment, rape as a metaphor for anything else.
No rape as entertainment, rape to sell stuff, rape as titillation.
Teach your sons not to be rapists.
And DON'T RAPE.

More R&R*

Chris and crew did the battle of the bands again at Timpview. They did Led Zeppelin Good Times Bad Times and a medley of two of their own songs. It was fun to watch/hear them for myself. A very low-key crowd though.

After seeing their show at Muse Music last week, Brett took one of Chris' guitars and rebuilt it for him. What a sweetie. We went north to pick up the guitar last night, and C is very excited about it.

I said to Chris how lucky he is to be able to hear and see all the old rocking greats on YouTube and iTunes rather than having to buy music one scratchy vinyl album at a time, and of course he said he'd rather do it the old way. "It was more real then," he said. He's always been nostalgic.

*Rock & roll Red & the Rovers rest & relaxation

Fashion?

So I have never grokked fashion, but have come to a sort of peace with it by only shopping once every two years and only buying things that are comfortable. But I ran across this blog the other day which is by a certified 13-year-old blue-haired fashion genius, and I begin to get a glimmer of understanding. I also like this blog of fashionable old people, and this one for us fatties. Don't worry, I'm not going to change my behavior or my (lack of) style, but I can acknowledge a legitimate art form, even if I don't have the ability to participate.

And always a treat, here is David Bowie.

Ethan and the Purple Crayon

...And Of Course Ethan Max Wild Thing

Photo from Halloween, by Betsy.

Red and the Rovers at Muse Music tonight

They had a good crowd:
Niels:
I think this photo is cool (by Betsy):

I tended Ethan while B&B went with John. Betsy took the pix and video. It's impossible to get the sound, of course. Betsy said she thought they did a great job, and she kept having weird nostalgic flashbacks to when Chris was a little boy.

Oooh, Pretty!

Our house, the Slagowski's tree, our street, the garden. Happy late January!