In which I rant, again

I know, this is getting boring. But the weather's stuffy and damp and giving me a headache, I still have a virus of DOOM on my PC, and I've had the day off and achieved almost nothing.

So I'm pleased to present some links to Very Worthy Rants, making Very Good Points about rape and sexual assault.

First is cereta's post, which started things off. There are some wonderful comments and some appalling ones. Personally, I think they're all worth reading because some people really do think like that.

rachelmanija refers to that post, and adds some more Very Good Points. I'll add one that she didn't include (and I'll go & comment there in a minute): I genuinely used to believe, at a gut level (i.e. if you'd challenged me, I'd have realised I was wrong - but would have noticed my change in opinion and been horrified by it) that to say "No" you actually had to say "no".

khalinche explains what it's like to be female. Yes, it is that bad. Manchester was worse. I got so damned good at convincing people that I just wasn't there (whether on a bus, walking across Piccadilly Gardens during the daytime, shopping on a Saturday) just to minimise the level of abuse I'd get, that I'm finding it very, very difficult to break that habit now I'm living somewhere less awful.

coffeeandink refers back to the dreadful Let's Grope Women At Conventions project and comments on how easy it is not to believe people.

And nestra points out that you do know someone who's been raped. They just don't trust you well enough to have told you. Why would they, when your reaction - even for an instant - is to wonder what you'd been doing at the time, to have drawn a rapist's attention?


This is why I don't want people to stop making cracks in front of me about getting girls drunk so they'll get a shag. Yes, really. Because if you go away thinking "Jenny doesn't like jokes like that", you'll keep saying them in front of other people, and keep thinking they're funny. Because nobody the hell else will call you on them. Tell them in front of me, and I'll remind you that it's rape. And after a few times, it might sink in.


And, you know what else? I have THE RAGE that I feel lucky that I'm not a rape victim. It shouldn't be luck. It should be normal.

(Don't piss me off in the comments. I can go into details of just what I *have* put up with, and I really don't want to. And now it's thundering outside.)