I’m catching up on the Steubenville (Ohio) rape-and-Twitter-and-football case. It’s not unfamiliar. Years ago I read a shocking but not surprising book about a New Jersey rape case that also involved high school jocks seen as heroes and the girl they raped seen as oh who cares. Our Guys, by Bernard Lefkowitz.

Lefkowitz’s sweeping narrative, informed by more than 200 interviews and six years of research, recreates a murky adolescent world that parents didn’t–or wouldn’t–see: a high school dominated by a band of predatory athletes; a teenage culture where girls were frequently abused and humiliated at sybaritic and destructive parties, and a town that continued to embrace its celebrity athletes–despite the havoc they created–as “our guys.” But that was not only true of Glen Ridge; Lefkowitz found that the unqualified adulation the athletes received in their town was echoed in communities throughout the nation. Glen Ridge was not an aberration. The clash of cultures and values that divided Glen Ridge, Lefkowitz writes, still divides the country.

Steubenville sounds as if it fits the pattern quite neatly. The Steubenville High School football coach didn’t bench the players involved. The Times tried to ask him about that.

Approached in November to be interviewed about the case, Saccoccia said he did not “do the Internet,” so he had not seen the comments and photographs posted online from that night. When asked again about the players involved and why he chose not to discipline them, he became agitated.

“You made me mad now,” he said, throwing in several expletives as he walked from the high school to his car.

Nearly nose to nose with a reporter, he growled: “You’re going to get yours. And if you don’t get yours, somebody close to you will.”

Because football.

(This is a syndicated post. Read the original at FreeThoughtBlogs.)

India has other horrible rapes. (As does the US. I’m not claiming any national superiority here.)

On most days, Indian newspapers report shocking new atrocities – a 10-month-old raped by a neighbour in Delhi; an 18-month-old raped and abandoned on the
streets in Calcutta; a 14-year-old raped and murdered in a police station in
Uttar Pradesh; a husband facilitating his own wife’s gang rape in Howrah…

One of the most painful and lingering cases is that of the Mumbai nurse Aruna Shanbaug.

Sodomised by a cleaner in the hospital where she worked, the 25-year-old was strangled with metal chains and left to die by her attacker, Sohanlal Bharta Walmiki, on 27 November 1973.

She was saved and survives, but barely so. For the past 39 years she has been lying in a hospital bed in a vegetative state, brain dead, unable to recognise anyone, unable to speak, unable to perform even the most basic of tasks.

…

Violence against women is deeply entrenched in the feudal, patriarchal Indian society, where for the rapist, every woman is fair game.

Ah ah ah – you’re not allowed to use the word “patriarchal.” There is no such thing. There are only women who fail to take proper precautions.

(This is a syndicated post. Read the original at FreeThoughtBlogs.)

Cooper and I walked (part of) the Pebble Beach course today. We walked a bigger part of it on Tuesday. It wasn’t as gorgeous today because it’s a little hazy, so the hills just southeast of Carmel were a bit blurry and flat as opposed to sharp and full of depth and detail as they were on Tuesday. But it was fun anyway. It’s on bluffs overlooking the ocean and Carmel Bay, so it’s a pretty dazzling place for a stroll, even with all the pesky people messing around with sticks and balls and buzzy little carts.

Actually the people are rather nice though. I always expect them to be parody millionaires, sniffing out my alien nature and ordering me to leave, but instead they get all googly over Cooper.

Cooper’s a fortunate dog, safe at home dropping sand on the carpet. Other dogs are not so lucky. As we were driving the bit of 17 Mile Drive between the lodge and the visitors’ entrance (where the trick is to turn left into an obscure parking lot next to the tennis courts, impossible to find unless you know about it, which places you at the most scenic part of the course) – the car ahead stopped for no apparent reason, then I saw that a car in front of that was stopped and the driver was getting out, then I saw a little red-brown terrier racing up the road as that driver tried to catch it. The driver in front of me jumped out and tried but the terrier raced away, I was too slow to jump out and instead tried to get Cooper to quit barking, the driver behind me jumped out and tried, and the terrier raced away and off the road in the direction of the course. Oh dear. Nothing to be done, so we all resumed driving, and Cooper and I did our walk and on the return leg as we were approaching the clubhouse next to the beach there was a woman far across the lawn calling, “Gracie! Gracie!” and whistling. Uh oh, I thought, I wonder if Gracie is a little red-brown terrier. Oh dear. I kept my eye on the woman so that I could ask her, and tell her what I knew, and as we converged she called, “Have you seen a little Yorkie?” making a Yorkie-size with her hands.

Gracie’s human left the car window open a little – so that Gracie wouldn’t overheat, for crying out loud – and foolish Gracie jumped out. Oh dear. The clubhouse is quite far from the place on the road where I’d seen Gracie, and it was about 45 minutes later. The woman works there. I’ll never know if Gracie got found.

(This is a syndicated post. Read the original at FreeThoughtBlogs.)

Michael DeDora reports one bit of good news.

In a landmark move welcomed by the Center for Inquiry (CFI), the United Nations General Assembly has adopted for the first time a resolution calling for a global end to female genital mutilation.

The measure, A/67/450 A/C.3/67/L.21, calls female genital mutilation, or FGM, “an irreparable, irreversible abuse that impacts negatively on the human rights of women and girls” and “a harmful practice that constitutes a serious threat to the health of women and girls.”

Oyyyy. Couldn’t they have just said “damages”? What is this “impacts negatively” crap? I assume people made “impact” into a verb to save time/words in the first place, but now we’re always getting “will negatively impact” when we could just have “will damage,” so clearly the laudable stab at efficiency has backfired, and clarity has been negatively impacted at the same time.

But that wasn’t the point. The point was the the UN has called for an end to FGM, and that’s good.

The measure’s approval certainly sends a strong political message to governments, as well as one of hope to millions of women and girls. However, as noted by UN Women Assistant-Secretary General and Deputy Executive Director John Hendra, it is now extremely important that the UN and its member states work to implement and support the ideas outlined in the resolution.

“This is a very important step to bringing about cultural and attitudinal change,” said Hendra. “Just as important though, is working on the ground with governments, communities and other partners to end FGM. … while efforts to criminalize FGM are vital, they need to be backed up with services for victims, engaging key influencers and supporting community-based activities to change social norms, as well as practical actions to bring perpetrators to justice.”

No faffing around with re-naming it “cutting” or “surgery,” I’m pleased to see.

(This is a syndicated post. Read the original at FreeThoughtBlogs.)

I took Cooper to Carmel beach this afternoon. When we got there I realized we had the Chuckit but no ball, because I took him to a crappy place for Chuckit yesterday and the ball went missing on the first chuck. Oh well, it’s a very doggy beach, I’ll probably find one, I told him, so we went down the stairs with the empty Chuckit.

As soon as we got to the water a guy in a family group said, “Lost the ball?” and I allowed as how we had, and did the rueful laugh thing, while Cooper danced around frantically as he always does. We went ahead north and I heard the guy’s daughter (I assume) telling him “We found a ball…” then a wave crashed as it always does.We strolled along, I looked around for an abandoned tennis ball, Cooper hopped and danced and jumped, the waves crashed, other dogs ran and danced and chased balls, then suddenly the little girl was next to me saying “Here’s a ball” and holding it out to me. Awww. So I said “Fabulous, thank you,” and chucked the ball into the ocean and Cooper raced into his paradise. The family group all laughed. The guy said they don’t know the difference, and I said we’ve donated lots of balls to the beach so it all comes out even.

Then for half an hour or so we did Cooper’s thing. It’s a great place for Chuckit because the water is so turquoise and clear but at the same time the waves are so thunderous. He loves flinging himself into them. He even seems to love having them break over his head and completely disappear him. He looks like a sock in a washing machine sometimes. Every now and then a wave breaks with a boom or even a bang – there was one bang that made me look around for the source for a second. I think those are the tubular ones – if they get rounded enough they hit with enough force to make a boom. The ones on Monterey beach do that every time.

As we were walking back to the car, looking down on the beach and Carmel Bay and Pebble Beach and over at the houses and trees, I remembered as I sometimes do that this is a prized and expensive tourist destination, and I get to come here as part of my job. Fun.

(This is a syndicated post. Read the original at FreeThoughtBlogs.)

And in Pakistan, seven Pakistani teachers and health workers, six of them women, were shot to death in the Swabi district of the northwestern province of Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa.

India needs rape jokes in the form of cocktails, and Pakistan needs fewer teachers and health workers and women. That’s the way to make a better world.

The attack on Tuesday, near the village of Sher Afzal Banda, was conducted by two men on a motorcycle who followed a van taking the workers home and then opened fire on it with assault rifles, the police said. The victims worked for the private Pakistani aid group Support With Working Solution, which works in the health and education sectors.

…

The aid group was founded in 1991 and, in conjunction with other aid groups, has focused on Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa Province and on South Waziristan in the tribal region, both deeply affected by poverty and militancy.

Five of the dead were young women who worked as teachers at a primary-level school the charity ran in the area, Mr. Akhtar said. The other two were health workers.

Teachers and health workers. People who work in a region deeply affected by poverty – killed by people who want more poverty and disease and ignorance and murder.

Perhaps humans were a mistake.

(This is a syndicated post. Read the original at FreeThoughtBlogs.)

Good thinking, Bonobo bar in Bombay: selling a cocktail called “the rapist” is a brilliant idea. It’s so convivial and amusing, so jolly and sociable. Rape is such a funny joke, and it’s so hilarious to encourage people to find rape and rapists a source of humor.

Rape culture? What rape culture? Don’t be silly.

(This is a syndicated post. Read the original at FreeThoughtBlogs.)

Taslima has been writing about the Delhi rape since it happened.

She wrote about the patriarchal mindset.

About India, the land of eroticism, sexism and rapism.

She wrote about saying a woman who was brutally gangraped, tortured, mutilated and killed has “died peacefully.”

And she wrote about the fact that this kind of thing doesn’t just burst out of nowhere.

For the very first time, folks were angry. Or did it wake them up? Does wakefulness appear so easily? It is true that for the first time, thousands of men and women of all ages took to the streets demanding from their government the safety and security for the womenfolk. It has also been demanded that the perpetrators should be hanged by the neck till death. Capital punishment by hanging is not a major issue to this government – it is a rather easy, hassle-free solution. But it is a lot more difficult to take measures so that men cease to see women as sex objects, so that from a tender age, human beings learn to recognize and treat other human beings as human beings.

This is what I was saying yesterday, only to receive a barrage of stupid vicious comments shouting that I was making it all about me despite the fact that I said the precise opposite in the post.

Taslima is making the same basic point. What happened to the Delhi woman was a hate crime. Where do hate crimes come from? A culture that fosters hatred.

Married women bear various marks on their bodies to advertise their marital status. Just as lifeless photo-frames are sometimes marked with a red mark as ‘sold’, the application of the vermilion mark on the forehead and the parting of hair suffices as a veritable purchase notice for married women; for them, from the hair on the scalp to toenails are considered property of their husbands. Married men, however, are never properties of their wives. If protests against the rape of women carry on while leaving such patriarchal traditions intact, would rapes ever stop? On one hand, ninety-nine percent of Bollywood movies portray women as sex-objects, television carries the same message, newspapers splash images of barely-clad women; everywhere the women are merely bodies – smooth, soft skin; only breasts, only genitalia; their brains are not brains – women philosophers are not philosophers, scientists are not scientists, intellectuals are not intellectuals, professionals are not professionals. Once they are within reach, are men going to discuss science and philosophy, or are they going to be more inclined towards rape? I don’t think men don’t know that whatever a woman might wear, be it a short skirt or nothing, no one has the right to rape her. I think men know it well. At the same time, they also know that they are the decision makers! Men have more muscles, more brains, more courage; they can take greater risks, and they are beyond shame and fear; men are brave, fearless, powerful, stronger both physically and mentally – there is nothing they cannot do. This is what they have learnt, this is what they have been taught every moment of every day since their birth. The act of rape, to these men, is an evidence of their virility. The truth is, however patriarchy has raped women’s bodies, it has raped women’s minds even more; it has raped their vitality, their lives and liveliness, their limitless possibilities, dreams and freedoms. A physical injury often heals, an emotional injury doesn’t.

We’re allowed to say this.

(This is a syndicated post. Read the original at FreeThoughtBlogs.)

So Cooper and I went for the walk at Asilomar and  (then around to Pacific Grove, but the PG library is closed on Mondays and then closed tomorrow because New Year, so I went to Carmel and its library. We took 17 Mile Drive instead of 68 and 1, and we stopped at Fan Shell Beach so that Cooper could hurl himself into the surf. The tide was coming in and I managed to get caught by a high wave and got soaked from the knees down – jeans, socks and shoes. Squelch squelch squelch down Dolores Street to Ocean Avenue and Lincoln Stree, squelch squelch squelch up the steps and into the libe. I got four appetizing books though.

It’s 4:30. The sun sets a little after 5. (Which is so late! In Seattle it sets at 4:15.) Nearly time to leave for the sunset walk to the beach.

Yes travelogue. Usually I’ve got nothin! A month of rain and thick dark clouds. When I go somewhere, I talk about it.

(This is a syndicated post. Read the original at FreeThoughtBlogs.)

I forgot to mention that I’m in California. Monterey Peninsula. I got here Saturday.

I thought I was going to take Cooper out for a walk along the coast at Asilomar at about ten this morning, but here I still am. Ok after lunch then.

(This is a syndicated post. Read the original at FreeThoughtBlogs.)

The Delhi rape-victim has been cremated. That’s the end of her.

[Prime Minister Manmohan] Singh said on Saturday that he was aware of the emotions the attack had stirred, adding that it was up to all Indians to ensure that the young woman’s death will not have been in vain.

What emotions would those be?

Let’s look again at what happened to her.

On the night of the attack, the woman and a male friend, who also has not been identified, were on a bus after watching a film when they were attacked by six men who raped her. The men beat the couple and inserted an iron rod into the woman’s body, resulting in severe organ damage. Both were then stripped and thrown off the bus, according to police.

Why? Why would they do that? Why wasn’t it enough to rape her, or to rape and beat her? Why did they also shove an iron bar up her vagina and beyond it with enough force to destroy 95% of her intestines?

The only obvious answer, I think, is hatred. Just hatred.

And that kind of thing scares me. Not personally, really. In spite of all the stupid lies the hate-campaigners keep recycling about me that I’m so stupid and scaredy and radfem that I see innocent emails from supporters as threats for no earthly reason (the prediction that I might be shot is never mentioned), I actually don’t spook easily. I never have. I’ve always wandered around on my own a lot, from childhood on, which wouldn’t be the case if I were personally afraid. It scares me generally. It scares me for women and for the state of the public discourse. It creeps me the fuck out that open boastful misogyny has become so popular and mainstream lately.

I think it’s strange that the vocal boastful misogynists don’t worry about this. I think it’s strange that they convince themselves, or pretend to, that shouting loudly and repeatedly that Woman X is a fucking bitch has nothing whatsoever to do with misogyny itself or with dispersing it ever more widely across the landscape. I think it’s strange that so many people think it’s good to foster a climate of ragey hatred.

(This is a syndicated post. Read the original at FreeThoughtBlogs.)

As the body of the raped and murdered Delhi woman was cremated, normal life continued.

In Kolkata, one of India’s four biggest cities, police said a man reported that his mother had been gang-raped and killed by a group of six men in a small town near the city on Saturday.

She was killed on her way home with her husband, a senior official said, and the attackers had thrown acid at the husband, raped and killed her, and dumped her body in a roadside pond.

Maybe the six men were amateur law enforcement officials, and the woman had done something wrong.

Or maybe it was just run of the mill misogyny, but that doesn’t get discussed much in India, at least not by people who matter.

Issues such as rape, dowry-related deaths and female infanticide rarely enter mainstream political discourse.

Because…well, you know. Wrong sex.

Newspapers raised doubts about the commitment of both male politicians and the police to protecting women.

“Would the Indian political system and class have been so indifferent to the problem of sexual violence if half or even one-third of all legislators were women?” the Hindu newspaper asked.

The Indian Express said it was more complicated than realizing that the police force was understaffed and underpaid.

“It is geared towards dominating citizens rather than working for them, not to mention being open to influential interests,” the newspaper said. “It reflects the misogyny around us, rather than actively fighting for the rights of citizens who happen to be female.”

There is no misogyny! That word doesn’t mean what you think it does! You’re making up a new definition for it! Feminism! sproinnnnnnnnnnnnng

(This is a syndicated post. Read the original at FreeThoughtBlogs.)