Ben Boychuk asks, “Why so angry?”
Well, as the saying goes, if you aren’t angry you aren’t paying attention. They’re angry about Michael Brown, Eric Garner, and dozens of other black men who have died at the hands of police. The “consensus” among protesters, according to the San Francisco Chronicle the other day, is that “law enforcement in the U.S. is poisoned by racial bias that wounds or kills people of color and must change.”
Something must change, but maybe it’s the way we think about law enforcement in general. […]
How nice it must be to see the world in such black-and-white terms. Rarely are social and political problems ever so simple. Then again, street protests rarely lend themselves to nuance. It’s tough to reason with a demonstrator playing dead in the middle of a highway, or a brick smashing through a storefront window. Shutting down Interstate 5 in San Diego or I-80 in Oakland is disruptive. But it isn’t terribly persuasive.
If you think the system is inherently racist, you aren’t paying attention. Americans distrust government institutions writ large, and the police are not exempt. […]
What’s missing here is a serious discussion – as opposed to street sloganeering – about the limits of police power. For conservatives, this is a challenge. Law and order are crucial elements of a free society. We are “a government of laws, and not of men,” as John Adams declared.
But in the 21st century, we are a government of too many laws and too many bureaucrats. We have thousands upon thousands of rules and regulations, all backed by the implicit threat of force. Our legislators send around 1,000 bills to Gov. Jerry Brown for his signature every year, many for “our own good.”
True, cops go where the criminals are. They also enforce the laws, not matter how ill-conceived, idiotic or unjust.
Ben is correct, the Three Felonies A Day approach of our Ruling Class to “administer” the hoi polloi should be the focus of our efforts. However, it needs to also be pointed out that the ‘National Day of Anger’ crowd is not interested in a limited government solution, but only after their own despots in power.
When you look at the pictures coming from the #Justice4all hashtag on Twitter, the number of signs from the usual far-left collectivist organizations, e.g. A.N.S.W.E.R., are quite (and unsurprisingly) prevalent.
Saturday’s political street theater amounts to a tragic missed opportunity. This “Day of Anger” is a tantrum, and branding cops as racists is a trivial pursuit. Burn down the system? Fine. And replace it with what?
We don’t need a police state, and we don’t need an administrative state. We need a strictly limited state. That’s a goal that should unite Americans left and right.
The Left isn’t “anti-police” as much as they want their own “police.” Along with the dismantling of everything necessary for a limited, Constitutional government.
This street theater isn’t ‘tragic’ or a ‘missed opportunity'; it’s indicative of moral sickness.
Until you can change the hearts and minds of the “There Outta Be a Law! For our own Good!” crowd, we’re just rearranging the chairs on the Titanic.
Heather MacDonald on the lucrative Rape Culture Truthings.
The campus rape movement highlights the current condition of radical feminism, from its self-indulgent bathos to its embrace of ever more vulnerable female victimhood. But the movement is an even more important barometer of academia itself. In a delicious historical irony, the baby boomers who dismantled the university’s intellectual architecture in favor of unbridled sex and protest have now bureaucratized both. While women’s studies professors bang pots and blow whistles at antirape rallies, in the dorm next door, freshman counselors and deans pass out tips for better orgasms and the use of sex toys. The academic bureaucracy is roomy enough to sponsor both the dour antimale feminism of the college rape movement and the promiscuous hookup culture of student life. The only thing that doesn’t fit into the university’s new commitments is serious scholarly purpose.
The campus rape industry’s central tenet is that one-quarter of all college girls will be raped or be the targets of attempted rape by the end of their college years (completed rapes outnumbering attempted rapes by a ratio of about three to two). The girls’ assailants are not terrifying strangers grabbing them in dark alleys but the guys sitting next to them in class or at the cafeteria. […]
If the one-in-four statistic is correct—it is sometimes modified to “one-in-five to one-in-four”—campus rape represents a crime wave of unprecedented proportions. No crime, much less one as serious as rape, has a victimization rate remotely approaching 20 or 25 percent, even over many years. The 2006 violent crime rate in Detroit, one of the most violent cities in America, was 2,400 murders, rapes, robberies, and aggravated assaults per 100,000 inhabitants—a rate of 2.4 percent. The one-in-four statistic would mean that every year, millions of young women graduate who have suffered the most terrifying assault, short of murder, that a woman can experience. Such a crime wave would require nothing less than a state of emergency—Take Back the Night rallies and 24-hour hotlines would hardly be adequate to counter this tsunami of sexual violence. Admissions policies letting in tens of thousands of vicious criminals would require a complete revision, perhaps banning boys entirely. The nation’s nearly 10 million female undergrads would need to take the most stringent safety precautions. Certainly, they would have to alter their sexual behavior radically to avoid falling prey to the rape epidemic. […]
The baby boomers who demanded the dismantling of all campus rules governing the relations between the sexes now sit in dean’s offices and student-counseling services. They cannot turn around and argue for reregulating sex, even on pragmatic grounds. Instead, they have responded to the fallout of the college sexual revolution with bizarre and anachronistic legalism. Campuses have created a judicial infrastructure for responding to postcoital second thoughts more complex than that required to adjudicate maritime commerce claims in Renaissance Venice. […]
The campus sex-management industry locks in its livelihood by introducing a specious clarity to what is inherently mysterious and an equally specious complexity to what is straightforward. Both the pseudo-clarity and pseudo-complexity work in a woman’s favor, of course. “If one partner puts a condom on the other, does that signify that they are consenting to intercourse?” asks Berkowitz. Short of guiding the thus-sheathed instrumentality to port, it’s hard to imagine a clearer signal of consent. But perhaps a girl who has just so outfitted her partner will decide after the fact that she has been “raped”—so better to declare the action, as Berkowitz does, “inherently ambiguous.” He recommends instead that colleges require “clear verbal consent” for sex, a policy that the recently disbanded Antioch College introduced in the early 1990s to universal derision.
The university is sneaking back in its in loco parentis oversight of student sexual relations, but it has replaced the moral content of that regulation with supposedly neutral legal procedure. The generation that got rid of parietal rules has re-created a form of bedroom oversight as pervasive as Bentham’s Panopticon.
At the same time, Heather points out, campuses indulge in all manner of “sex positive” activities — from orgasm workshops to sex toy management — pushing young adults to abandon any thought of intimate relationships in favor of narcissistic hook-ups.
Modern feminists defined the right to be promiscuous as a cornerstone of female equality. Understandably, they now hesitate to acknowledge that sex is a more complicated force than was foreseen. Rather than recognizing that no-consequences sex may be a contradiction in terms, however, the campus rape industry claims that what it calls campus rape is about not sex but rather politics—the male desire to subordinate women. The University of Virginia Women’s Center intones that “rape or sexual assault is not an act of sex or lust—it’s about aggression, power, and humiliation, using sex as the weapon. The rapist’s goal is domination.”
This characterization may or may not describe the psychopathic violence of stranger rape. But it is an absurd description of the barnyard rutting that undergraduate men, happily released from older constraints, seek. The guys who push themselves on women at keggers are after one thing only, and it’s not a reinstatement of the patriarchy. Each would be perfectly content if his partner for the evening becomes president of the United States one day, so long as she lets him take off her panties tonight.
One group on campus isn’t buying the politics of the campus “rape” movement, however: students. To the despair of rape industrialists everywhere, students have held on to the view that women usually have considerable power to determine whether a campus social event ends with intercourse.
Hence, the shrieking hysteria at the collapse of Rolling Stone’s U-VA “gang rape” article and Lena Dunham’s back-peddling of her “Barry One” tale.
What is being revealed is that the Left-feminists have never really been interested in actual rape victims, but in using “rape” as another tool to dismantle the culture they hate; the culture that expects women to take as much responsibility for their own lives as is expected of men.
WaPo’s update on Rolling Stone’s U-VA “gang-rape” story: Did “Jackie” just make it all up? [Darleen Click]
The three students agreed to be interviewed on the condition that The Post use the same aliases that appeared in Rolling Stone because of the sensitivity of the subject.
They said there are mounting inconsistencies with the original narrative in the magazine. The students also expressed suspicions about Jackie’s allegations from that night. They said the name she provided as that of her date did not match anyone at the university, and U-Va. officials confirmed to The Post that no one by that name has attended the school.
Also, photographs that were texted to one of the friends showing her date that night were actually pictures depicting one of Jackie’s high school classmates in Northern Virginia. That man, now a junior at a university in another state, confirmed that the photographs were of him and said he barely knew Jackie and hasn’t been to Charlottesville for at least six years.
The friends said they were never contacted or interviewed by the pop culture magazine’s reporters or editors. Although vilified in the article as coldly indifferent to Jackie’s ordeal, the students said they cared deeply about their friend’s well-being and safety. Randall said that they made every effort to help Jackie that night. […]
The Rolling Stone article also said that Randall declined to be interviewed, “citing his loyalty to his own frat.” He told The Post that he was never contacted by Rolling Stone and would have agreed to an interview.
The article goes into further detail about Jackie and Randall; but it appears that Jackie’s romantic interest in Randall wasn’t returned and that was when Jackie may have “created” another romantic interest in an attempt to get Randall’s attention.
Intrigued, Jackie’s friends got his phone number from her and began exchanging text messages with the mysterious upperclassman. He then raved to them about “this super smart hot” freshman who shared his love of the band Coheed and Cambria, according to the texts, which were provided to The Post.
“I really like this girl,” the chemistry student wrote in one message. Some of the messages included photographs of a man with a sculpted jaw line and ocean-blue eyes.
In the text messages, the student wrote that he was jealous that another student had apparently won Jackie’s attention.
“Get this she said she likes some other 1st year guy who dosnt like her and turned her down but she wont date me cause she likes him,” the chemistry student wrote. “She cant turn my down fro some nerd 1st yr. she said this kid is smart and funny and worth it.”
Jackie told her three friends that she accepted the upperclassman’s invitation for a dinner date on Friday, Sept. 28, 2012.
Curious about Jackie’s date, the friends said that they tried to find the student on a U-Va. database and social media but failed. Andy, Cindy and Randall all said they never met the student in person. Before Jackie’s date, the friends became suspicious that perhaps they hadn’t really been in contact with the chemistry student at all, they said. […]
Randall provided The Post with pictures that Jackie’s purported date had sent of himself by text message in 2012. The Post identified the person in the pictures and learned that his name does not match the one Jackie gave friends in 2012. In an interview, the man said he was Jackie’s high school classmate but “never really spoke to her.”
The man said he was never a U-Va. student and is not a member of any fraternity. Additionally, he said that he had not visited Charlottesville in at least six years and that he was in another state participating in an athletic event during the weekend of Sept. 28, 2012.
“I have nothing to do with it,” he said. He said it appears that the circulated photos were pulled from social media Web sites.
Outside of Jackie’s own hysterics the night she claimed “something happened” every detail has been proven to be invented, from the fraternity initiation to the man she claimed to have taken her out on the date.
Whether Rolling Stone’s writer, Sabrina Rubin Erdely, was complicit or incredibly gullible is currently unknown. But the elaborate lengths Jackie took in inventing a fake suitor and creating different narratives for different audiences about her alleged assault that took just a bit of diligent digging to uncover demonstrates a breathtaking negligence of responsibility on the part of Rolling Stone‘s editors – even for such a demonstratively biased media outlet.
Get out the popcorn, the third act curtain has yet to rise.
It is who they are, it is what they do.
Madam Feinstein, go to hell.
“I choose to believe Jackie. I lose nothing by doing so, even if I’m later proven wrong.” [Darleen Click]
Jessica Valente (you remember her, the gal who supports Bill Clinton but never had anything to say about believing Juanita Broderick) offers up yet another defense of Narrative Over Facts.
One in five women is sexually assaulted at American universities – so Jackie’s story wasn’t so uncommon.
Jessica trots out a totally bogus statistic and ties it to Jackie, who claims not “sexual assault” (slapped posterior? uninvited kiss? who knows?) but gang-rape on broken glass by seven males as part of a frat initiation.
Really? That’s a common experience for 20% of female college students?
I choose to believe Jackie. I lose nothing by doing so, even if I’m later proven wrong – but at least I will still be able to sleep at night for having stood by a young woman who may have been through an awful trauma.
Just another case of Vagina Warrior narcissism.
This is all about Jessica and how she feels. Her motives are pure, she has the best of intentions. No matter whose lives are affected, as long as Jessica can get a good nights’ sleep, all is right with the world.
Such a special snowflake.
Related: via Sabo
More than a dozen Pearl Harbor survivors, each more than 90 years old, gathered in Hawaii this week to share stories as they marked the 73rd anniversary of the Japanese attack that killed 2,400 sailors, Marines and soldiers.
And puh-leeeese don’t call it “objectification”. This is ART. …
Art Basil, one of the biggest art shows, which happens every year in Miami, attracts flocks of art collectors, celebrities, and the curious.
But this year, taking things to a new level, a woman placed a battery inside her vagina and offered people the chance to charge their electronics for money.
Pop superstar Usher paid $20 in exchange for a 10-minute power up.
According to TMZ, “The woman wanted to show how humans have become dependent on technology and she felt a super-charged vagina would help make her point.”