So help me Yahweh, the next time I hear some feminist dimwit like Zerlina Maxwell crowing about how we “must believe the victim,” I am going to hack off one of my toes just to get my mind off the pain in my head from having to listen to this bullshit.
First of all, unless something has been proven in a court of law, the word “victim” should remain forever in scare quotes. You know why? Because we have something, however dwindling, called a criminal justice system. That carries with it certain principles, like the presumption of innocence.
Let me explain a little about what that means. I will try to break it down real simple-like, so that even rape journalists like Maxwell can comprehend it—when she isn’t glassy-eyed with zealous misandry.
Presumed innocence means those exact words. Literally. It means that if you are sitting on a jury, or just sitting at your laptop or TV, you must assume that whoever is getting the finger pointed at them at the moment didn’t do a damn thing. You must assume that they were just living their life, minding their own business, but for some reason that you know absolutely nothing about, they were scooped up by police and charged with a crime for which the prosecutor believed there was enough provable evidence to convict them beyond a reasonable doubt.
Until that conviction comes, they are legally and morally innocent.
Consequently, for the sake of justice, you must assume that the prosecutor is full of crap and is prosecuting someone for no apparent reason until he or she can provide you evidence so compelling and convincing that there is no reasonable doubt in your mind that the accused is actually guilty.
You must assume that whoever accusing them is doing so falsely, until you are convinced by the same solid, completely credible evidence that they are not lying. Until then, you must assume their accusation means nothing. That is what presumed innocent until proven guilty means. It means that you don’t have a single iota of belief in the so-called “victim’s” story until evidence forces you to believe otherwise.
That includes rape.
To be even clearer, there are no rape victims until it has been proven in a court of law. There are only “victims.”
Even then, it can be quite questionable. Rape shield laws, rules on allowing convictions without forensic evidence, corrupt cops, corrupt prosecutors, and the built-in bias of jurors to protect alleged (female) “victims” already cast a shadow on the criminal justice system wide enough to cover a small country.
But that is just digressing for the moment because the court of public opinion is the topic at hand. We are now deluged with scores of two-bit rape journalism and ideological witch hunts in our university system. We have abandoned any sense of due process in the cultural narrative and yielded like zombies to insultingly stupid public outcries to believe anyone with a hangover and a fuzzy rape story, even if that story changes every five minutes.
Believe the “victim”? My ass. I don’t believe in anything I have to put in scare quotes. And that is the way it is supposed to be in a society guided by laws and legal canons that are supposedly inviolable.
Instead of that society, we now believe “victims” until it is proven that they lied (and they lie for an encyclopedia full of reasons). Even then we hear feminists uttering nonsense like “even if they lied they were a hero for starting the conversation.”
I actually saw that on Twitter recently regarding Rolling Stone’s decline into the rape journalism cesspool. Fortunately, I don’t remember the silly twit who tweeted it, but I am betting that a screenshot of it turns up in the comments to this article.
It is time we faced up to some facts, and I am growing ever more grateful that AVfM remains here as a place where things like facts can still be discussed.
Fact: Our culture has gone rape-crazy. Not with rapes but with the insistence that the crime happens about 500 times more than it actually does. Per rape academicians like Mary Koss, we are identifying rape “victims” even when they were reporting on surveys that they were not raped, even when they continued dating their “rapists” after the “rape.” And we are publicly crushing the reputations of anyone who has the audacity to insist on that pesky thing we call proof before picking up a torch and pitchfork with everyone else.
We have a world full of Horace Gilmers while a smattering of Atticus Finches are reduced to writing blog posts that scores of people hold their nose while reading. It’s as though their fake nobility raises them above the principles of law and common sense—because vagina.
Let me put it this way. I have an abundance of sympathy for rape victims, of either sex. Rape “victims”? Meh. Truth be told, I am pretty much sick and tired of hearing about them. And I am sick and tired of hearing them be called “survivors.”
You have to be a victim to be a survivor. If you are a “victim,” you are just someone with an unproven story, pointing a finger at someone who has not been proven to have done anything wrong.
Sorry, but that is the only way a system of justice can work unless you count gangs wearing sheets and carrying lots of rope as “justice.”
Oh, and if you were “raped” but you reported it to your college administration and not to the police, then as far as I am concerned, you are doing a shit-poor job of even being a “victim.” Your story could and should be used as fertilizer.
Reporting any violent crime, from muggings to assaults of varying degrees, can be an emotionally stressful, often embarrassing experience. It does not have to be a rape to be a hard process. I know that from personal experience. That is life for any real crime victim. Deal with it and start taking your life back. Sucking sustenance off the reflexive, gushing sympathies of others is a scam—no more, no less.
Having just enough courage to tell your college administration that you were raped, when you know that they will not give the accused a chance to even question you about your allegations, but too little courage to tell the police is a chicken-shit move that helps cast doubt on all alleged victims of this crime.
Give real victims a break. Tell the cops or shut the hell up.
If you won’t even tell the police, don’t expect people to pay for your “survivor” T-shirt or to give a rat’s ass about why you are wearing it.
But hold out your tin can anyway. P.T. Barnum assures us that someone is born every minute who will toss in a dime.
Feature photo Wiki Commons, credit to Glacial123
