by Jeph Johnson 

 

Rape jokes are wrong because they not only are insensitive, they trivialize rape.

 

You know what else trivializes rape and is insensitive?

 

False accusations.

by Jeph Johnson 

 

Humor itself is as multifaceted and diverse as each individual human is and every topic is subject to be influenced by humor. Likewise, it is my belief that humor should be allowed to influence every topic.

 

Sometimes a joke that utilizes rape (or race, or any number of other taboo subjects), is not perpetuating rape culture so as much as it is recognizing rape culture and utilizing it for humor's sake.

 

Q: What do 9 out of 10 people enjoy?
A: Gang rape

 

The "9 out of 10" joke is NOT making fun of rape, it is making a valid point about those involved in mob rule, UTILIZING "rape" as a powerful subject/tool to drive the humor and point across.

 

It is not that dissimilar than the Larry Flynt quote:

"You can't have five wolves and one sheep voting on what to have for supper."

 

This does NOT mean that the "9 out of 10" joke may not offend someone, it likely will. BUT a overwhelming majority of jokes intent IS to offend. Sheep just don't have online blogs to protest, so the Larry Flynt "joke" becomes more acceptable.

 

This is why we use the term "butt" of a joke. There always is (and hate to use this word) a "victim" in a joke. Many who already have been victimized do not want to be reminded. But many people (even rape survivors) also recognize the POWER the very word RAPE carries and understand by someone choosing to utilize rape as their pinnacle example in a joke or point they are making, they are giving rape and other heinous crimes the seriousness that they are due. It only perpetuates rape culture to those who cannot get past the subtleties of humor.

 

Or if seen as a half-empty/half-full: Do jokes trivialize rape (and other serious issues) or do serious issues such as rape make jokes more powerful?

 

The answer: Both.

 

How one looks at it is different for each person depending upon their circumstances. The comedian must be cognizant of the sensibilities of those their joke offends, while the one who finds it offensive must be aware of the intended usage of the joke teller.

by DaddyO

 

Consent violations, predatory behavior, abuse and rape are all very serious matters.

 

Allegations of consent violations, predatory behavior, abuse and rape are also serious matters.

 

When someone accuses another of any of these heinous things, some very important actions are required by us, as a community of concerned players to happen.

 

The community must be extremely thorough in how we conduct our investigations. Being thorough is important to not only avoid falsely accusing someone without due process but also to avoid shaming the victim unjustly.

 

To neglect either would be tantamount to a new consent violation all its own.

 

It is my hope that by offering clearer definitions of what constitutes predatory behavior, rape, abuse, and consent violations, that this will prevent anyone who feels victimized from being misunderstood and so, when allegations are made, they are accurate. In turn this should help us pinpoint false allegations so no one falls victim to unjust hearsay.

 

Haphazardly revealing the names of suspected consent violators likely will halt the actions of some true offenders, but we as a community of players who pride ourselves on honesty and truth need to be as thorough as possible when doing so. This needs to be done to prevent as few false accusations from being levied as possible.

 

One way to go about this is if someone lodges an accusation, and the accused person is willing to cooperate, they should be allowed to share their side of the story before their name is revealed. Of course, if the accused is uncooperative or unrepentant, then we as a community have an obligation to reveal the person's name.

 

Everyone exploring kink in the shadows and outside the protective influence of the community's watchful eyes are put in danger. But our watchful eyes need to be watching the right things.

 

Simply naming names without additionally educating the community is also dangerous for it keeps the uneducated underground where accepted methods of properly engaging in kink openly and consensually are remiss.

 

"But isn't that the way BDSM is supposed to be?"

 

The above quote is paraphrasing a recent post a newbie made regarding an encounter she had with someone she just met. According to her story, this "Dom" sent her a well-crafted "I'm the Dom, so you do what I say" message that included the manipulative warning "if you safeword, you will not be allowed to play with me again."

Consequently, she said that he beat her well beyond what many felt a newbie's limits would have been. Many in the local community felt she was lucky to escape alive.

 

Promoting a more sex positive and BDSM aware culture to everyone is imperative to educate newcomers to what it is that we do (WIITWD) as well as to prevent predators from exploiting a newbie's ignorance.

 

Therefore I feel the BDSM community needs to continue to be proactive in promoting the rights and responsibilities of play negotiations.

 

This includes understanding you and your partner's intentions. This means, among other things, asking what is desired out of the scene and/or partnership.

 

There is also a need to confirm you and your partner's consent. This means clearly describing what is to be done, both of your expectations, as well as confirming that the partner has as little apprehension as possible.

 

It is also extremely important to be respectful of your partner's boundaries. Just as important is to state clearly your own boundaries.

 

Players need to communicate the importance of aftercare, as well as the likely need for moral and physical support afterwards. This applies to both top and bottom.

 

Stressing the importance of safewords and in-scene communication both for you and your partner is also tremendously important, as reflected in the following quote by Janet Hardy, author of The New Bottoming Book:

 

"It is tremendously important that we as a community build a safeword culture. Bottoms have to hold up their share of that responsibility; a bottom who refuses to safeword when he or she has actually withdrawn consent has just turned me into a rapist or assailant without my consent, and that is not OK."

 

In doing these things, it is essential that we empower newcomers to BDSM with the knowledge that all players have the right to withdraw consent any time for any reason during a scene. They need to be informed that this is not only a right but it is also a responsibility for them to do so if there is any chance the continuation of the scene will cause physical, emotional or mental injury or discomfort afterwards.

 

This is where it gets very tedious. How does a person know if they are going to suffer after the fact?

 

Frankly, we don't. This is why communicating and being on the same page with your play partner is so important.

 

Top drop, sub drop, wrist pain, back pain, soreness, infection, scarring, STDs....there are many potential unforeseen "after the fact" consequences of WIITWD discomfort which we accept as just par for the course. 

 

The after-effect of regret is not often addressed but it is just as prevalent and just as much a concern. When regret is felt by one partner, it is extremely important that the other partner is there for support and comfort. It is also very important for the partner feeling regret to not place blame onto the partner.

 

Once again, communication is essential. Sometimes the partner feeling regret also feels shame and due to that, there can be additional complications with the flow of communication.

 

If after a hard scene the bottom feels like she has been raped or abused, it doesn't necessarily mean that is what has occurred. It is imperative that the situation is analyzed to see if consent was given or a crossing of agreed to boundaries were crossed.

 

As crass as it may sound, the best edgeplayers would pride themselves on the fact that their consensual-nonconsent, degradation and/or humiliation scenes were "feelings-wise" tantamount to being raped or abused. And the bottom's that crave that sort of feeling would want nothing less.

 

Keep in mind when I use the term "acceptable behavior" I use it loosely. It is only acceptable in our own little BDSM world, it is not acceptable to society at large...for in most places, WIITWD is illegal.

 

Like the term "safe sex", there is no truly safe way to practice BDSM. Only safer, more accepted ways. This doesn't mean that if you choose the more accepted way, you will never be falsely accused, but it does help assure the practitioner of these activities will have a clearer conscious and a more defensible argument if any questionable encounters or incidents occur.

 

Every BDSM activity is unacceptable if negotiation and consent are not included.

 

Yes, humiliation play becomes bullying, S&M becomes assault and battery and sex becomes rape.

 

Accurately articulated consent and a healthy respect for boundaries are the basic precepts of WIITWD. Therefore, these powerful actions that elicit such emotion should not be relabeled with such vehemently accusatory definitions (rape, abuse, predatory behavior) unless a violation of declared consent or a crossing of a stated boundary occurs. It just isn't fair to the one getting blamed.

 

If we allow false allegations to be levied based simply on a person's regret, everyone who has ever regretted having sex or has ever regretted participating in an impact play scene has a valid argument that they have been raped or abused.

 

I believe this to be insulting to all BDSM players, but especially to anyone who has truly suffered and survived the atrocities of rape and abuse.

 

Rape destroys the body,

The mind and soul,

The rapist is not a being,

But an insane out of control.

 

The rapist rapes not a person,

But humanity generally,

The earth doesn’t want to accept,

The corpse of the rapist eventually!

 

The rapist is like an insect,

 

Who never deserves any respect.

WARNING: This is a heavy piece of writing that deals with the topic of sexual assault through relaying a survivors experience of date rape. If you are offended or sensitive to this subject matter, then please refrain from reading this particular piece. 

 

To everyone else: I wanted this piece of writing to channel the various feelings, thoughts, and overall experience of what it's like to go through such a horrific experience. It's choppy, it's scattered, and it's devoid of warmth. It's as though you're watching these events occur, but you aren't really experiencing them. You're disconnected; dissociated. To the survivors of sexual assault, my heart goes out to you and I know your many pains. For me, writing about my experiences has provided more healing than any shrink or pills ever could. 

I'm always here to talk if anyone ever needs a listening ear, or sounding board. 

You're not alone.

 

-G.B

 

 

19 and naïve

Lonely

Desperate

 

She rides the 5E down the line

It's 11 PM

Past her bedtime

Work in the morning, she'll sleep in

 

One shot,

One night,

One boy who never paid her mind

 

Cold, it's the Dead of winter. She takes off a glove and fixes her hair

 

He's finally noticed her

She's coming at his midnight beckon

 

Houses with closed blinds fly past the window

Ever closer to her destination

 

her heart beats in rhythm to the bumping of tires over potholes

 

A man boards the bus,

waves a glove in her face

Crazy wide eyes and alcohol on his breath,

insanity pours out of a poisoned mouth

 

She sidles past and steps outside,

Cold air punches her lungs and leaves her gasping

 

She's walking

Walking

Walking

 

Towards the house in the middle of the street

 

The house he's waiting for her in

Waiting

Waiting

Waiting for his chance

 

Stopping at the porch, he welcomes her with open arms,

Tall and strong, enveloping her in a disconcerting embrace

 

They enter,

A staircase leads up

 

to a room

 

The room

 

The room with posters

And a laptop

And an inflatable mattress

 

'We're going to watch a movie'

 

It's not a question

 

We are

I am

 

I sit, but he wants to lay

His voice slithers wet and heavy in my ear

 

'You want it, but I'm not giving it to you'

 

My brain starts to ache

Confusion

Throat becomes sandpaper

I've forgotten how to breathe

 

I don't want it

 

Hands now roaming my body without permission 

Shallow compliments fall on me and explode in a queasy stomach

 

I'm going numb

His mouth on mine

This isn't how I imagined it

 

Fighting back against bile rising in my throat

 

When did I become naked

 

He tells me I want it

 

I still don't

 

What happened to the movie

I just wanted a movie

 

He's inside me

Everything hurts

His face is ugly

And I think I hate him

 

He tells me to shut up

 

I can't

 

A hand strikes me

 

Shocking

Stinging

 

'I told you to be quiet'

 

Strong hands now hug my throat

A violent embrace

I want to cough

I can't

 

Squeezing

Gripping

 

Spots dance before my eyes

 

Tears threaten to fall

Please don't betray me

Trying to maintain

 

I can't

 

 

He grabs my face

 

'Are you crying?'

 

There's amusement in his voice

It's a game to him

 

He soothes me

Wipes my tears

Before resuming

 

Mouth to my ear again

Hissing

Growling

 

'I love raping you

 

I love raping you

 

God it's good

 

Dirty whore

 

I know you love it'

 

I'm there for years

I think I flew away  for a few of them

 

Up

Up

Out of the room with the inflatable mattress

Out of my body

 

The body that rejected me

Made this happen

Nightmare

 

It's finally over

A lifetime has passed

I never knew a body could feel like this from the inside

 

I am dirty

Defiled

Hurting

Alone

Angry and

 

Betrayed

 

Now downstairs,  he pulls me on his lap

Another man is there and they casually chat

They're laughing

 

I'm sick

 

And I think he is too

 

Going home now

I'm back

I'm alive

(I think)

 

It's so cold

 

I work tomorrow

 

I'm going to sleep in

 

 

Sex And Fear

 

            The gate is locked,
            but he tried his luck,
            The key so big,
            The gate so small,
            But by simple law of force,
            The gate gave way,
            With its pillars ,
            And all that held it firm.

 

The pain was excruciating,
My strength depreciating,
While my “grandfather” thrusts,
Laughing as I cried,
Panting as I gasped.
And when he was done he left.
Leaving me with tears, sorrow and blood.
Tears in my eyes, tear in my vagina.
And deep in my soul, I die.

I certainly can empathize with the weight of passion expressed in this poem. It is not an easy thing to place your feelings aside when we see horrific crimes such as are acted out daily in our society. I was raped several times as a minor child, and eventually had to come to grips with this truth about our society. I went through the rigorous process of exposure therapy, and found it to be a very lengthy, arduous, but extremely fullfilling path towards getting in touch with the core reasons about why I personally, felt the ways I did about being raped. Our society sees rape as a lesser crime than it does murder. It makes no sense until you realize the many different ways in which one can be 'raped'. Physical rape is one thing, then there is date rape, and then there is coersion, (which becomes debateable as to whether it is actual 'rape' or not), and then there is psychological rape, which is done with or without physical contact. Many of us experience psychological rape on a daily basis without thinking twice about it. It stems from a lack of personal boundaries, and/or enforcing those boundaries in our lives with all we meet. If we are to live in the world peacefully and content, we all need to learn the value of personal boundaries. 

 

Thank you for writing such an exquisite and intricate piece (for lack of a word that would fit better), and allowing an opportunity for 'rape' to be looked at rationally, as we accomplish nothing through hate....but for poetry's sake...awesome awesome. You put things in clear and concise words, and on subjects that carry as much volume as this one, it can be very cathartic for those trying to work things out within themselves, so that they can be in touch with their true essence of love and forgiveness, and not allow hate to consume them...(it was for me...I remember way back when).

 

I wouldn't change a thing about my past....because if I did, I would not have all I have today, and I am sure I would not be the the person I have grown into. I am not saying that it does not deserve to be corrected in whatever way brings the core of the issue to transform into a better world for us all, but I am saying hating doesn't help it, and I do not believe it to be part of a solution.

 

Blessings. 

 

 

http://m.voices.yahoo.com/psychological-rape-6894002.html 

I pull my brown heavy jacket closer as I walk toward the parking lot.  The cold October air is making it feel as if winter has already arrived.  I just finished working a 12-hour serving shift and feel more than ready to go home after locking up the small diner.  Before I left, I had gone into the restroom and upon washing my hands, I had looked into the mirror.  I looked exhausted.  My green eye shadow, black eyeliner, and mascara were smeared and my long brown hair, pulled into a bun, was looking unkempt.  As I approach my car, I go through a mental checklist of what I did, making sure I took care of all of the closing since I hurried out the door, remembering that I needed to get home to feed my cat.  She was probably starving and feeling lonely since I haven’t worked this shift in ages.

            Turning the key into the driver’s door of my black Kia Rio, after taking the ten-minute walk to the vacant parking lot, I hear a noise.  It sounds as if an animal is dragging its tail through the gravel.  Not knowing what was causing the noise, and since it is late at night the noise frightens me, causing me to jump as I turn to see where the noise is coming from.

            “Oh, it’s just you,” I say with relief as I realized it is only Roy, the man I recently had started to see.  We were going on two months this Saturday.  “What are you doing here?  I thought our date wasn’t until tomorrow?”  I take in Roy’s disheveled appearance.  His eyes look glazed over and his short black hair looks greasy and untidy; he is usually a very put together guy.  My guess is that he had been out drinking.

            “Maggie!  I’ve been calling you all day and you haven’t called me back!  Why haven’t you called me back?”  He asks as he lumbers toward me.

            “I told you yesterday on the phone that I had a long shift today, Roy.  I thought our date wasn’t until tomorrow?”  This was a whole other side of him that I had never seen.  We had been on seven dates and had talked each night on the phone and he was so nice, kind, and gentlemanlike.  I don’t know what has gotten into him.

            “Aw, honey, I must have forgotten.  I missed you, that’s all.”  He says as he leans up against my car.

            “I missed you, too, Roy, but, as you can see, I am thoroughly exhausted and need to be heading home now.  My cat needs fed.  You knew that I was a busy woman when we started dating.”  I turn around to open my car door, thinking that was the end of the conversation.  “Do you need me to call someone to take you home?”  I ask as I once again turn my key to unlock the door.

            “No.”  That was all the answer I got as I felt his hot breath on the back of my neck.  “You will take me home.”  He whispers.

            “Roy, I need to get home.  You’re scaring me.”

            Roy towers over me as he grabs my arms tightly, pulling me into a forced embrace.  “I missed you, Maggie.  I want you to be with me.  Be with me, Maggie.  Why won’t you be with me?”

            I am stuck in his forced embrace and no matter what I do, I cannot escape.  He twists me around so that I face him.  My head only reaches to his shoulder and I am overpowered.  He leans toward me and smothers my mouth with his.  I feel the tears starting to form and once he sees them, he slaps me across the face.

            “Don’t you want to be with me?”  He asks again, more forcibly and repeatedly as he moves his ugly lips down my neck.

            I make my attempts to push away the man who is twice my size to no avail.  My feeble attempts only add fuel to his anger and arousal.  As he crushes his mouth against mine, one of his hands finds a way up my shirt, groping me.  His other hand is still holding me captive against my car.  I don’t understand what is happening as my mind spins, trying to make sense of the situation.  Roy takes my keys from me, now only holding me by one arm.  His back is against me as I bite down hard on his hand, making him release me and yell in pain.  I run back toward the diner, not looking back, scared to see if he is following me.  Roy tackles me to the ground.  My escape has failed.

            “Roy, please…”  I beg.

            Once again, he hits me.  This time my eyes go fuzzy as my head bounces against the ground.  The last thing I see is Roy unbuttoning his pants while he sits on top of me.  Total darkness.

            I wake up in gravel, not remembering how I got there or why.  As I try to stand, I feel shaky and my head begins to pound with a killer headache.  I hurt everywhere.  Then I remember.

 

            No, no.  Just get to your car.  I walk toward my car thinking this same thought over and over.  Okay, you need to get home to feed your cat.  You need to feed your cat.  You need to feed your cat.  I get into my car and drive home.  Home to feed my cat.