The Catholic Church. Total denial, closing the ranks, protecting the predators, trying quietly way after the fact to buy off the survivors as best they can. No birth control for you, and see how much we can control the political process.
Fuck (in honor of SJF) Joe Paterno. Enabler, protector, denier of what Jerry Sandusky did. (Oh, and fuck Jerry Sandusky, too)
SallyCat’s story of trying to speak for the children and getting resistance for speaking out, and risking her standing in her community in face of the same old, same old “it was just one time” excuse. Predator as victim, as one who needs to be protected. Bah.
I’m beginning to think we’re collateral damage in some war that we cannot see, nor can we understand the rules of engagement, and we’ve all got a very fine case of PTSD.
The press had a lot of fun out of the story of the “War Between the Sexes” back in the day. I don’t think it’s a war between sexes. I think it’s a war between the owners and the owned. Perhaps more accurately, a war between the owners and those they’d like to own. Why can’t property understand its proper place, after all?
Property’s proper place is to be owned. Not only your body to be owned, but taking up real estate in your mind and emotions. So that YOU feel guilty for what your abuser has done to you. So that YOU feel dirty for what your abuser has done to you. So that YOU feel guilty for telling, or maybe for not telling, or maybe just for living even. Not feeling whole, not feeling worth loving. Sometimes even not feeling, because it hurts too damned much.
We keep traveling this road. We made progress way back when, and then we had a backlash. It will happen this time, too. We’re trying to challenge power, and power gets pissed when challenged. People with privilege want to keep that privilege. It’s the perks of being powerful and privileged. They get to go on expensive vacations, paid for by the company, and experience whatever sexual fantasy they want. Money talks and child sexual slavery sells. Your garden variety predator wants to emulate that sexual fantasy. Mine did. He couldn't go to Thailand, say, and buy a child, but he could live out his pornographic fantasy on my body.
I think I'm lucky. I found a framework in which to live my life, and I've had successes enough so that I learned to believe in myself in most arenas. But all of us aren't that lucky....