Movies,sex,and what comes next?
What a way to start a late #day19 #eggybagel #100happydays #sorrynotsorry
Rape has become endemic in South Africa, so a medical technician named Sonette Ehlers developed a product that immediately gathered national attention there. Ehlers had never forgotten a rape victim telling her forlornly, “If only I had teeth down there.”
Some time afterward, a man came into the hospital where Ehlers works in excruciating pain because his penis was stuck in his pants zipper.
Ehlers merged those images and came up with a product she called Rapex. It resembles a tube, with barbs inside. The woman inserts it like a tampon, with an applicator, and any man who tries to rape the woman impales himself on the barbs and must go to an emergency room to have the Rapex removed.
When critics complained that it was a medieval punishment, Ehlers replied tersely, “A medieval device for a medieval deed.”
- Half the Sky, Nicholas Kristof
REBLOGGING THIS. x1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000
A medieval device for a medieval deed - yes.
This is perfect
BLESS THIS PERSON
I BOW TO THIS INTENTION
Can we talk about how beautifully this turns rape culture on its head? Instead of “If they weren’t dressed like that they wouldn’t have been raped” THIS IS LITERALLY “IF THEY HADN’T TRIED TO RAPE SOMEONE THEY WOULDN’T HAVE SPIKES IN THEIR DICK”*
That bold bit~
#day18 with “Conner” at the #imperialpub #angryirishman #100happydays
I am looking for you again. In airports when your last name is called over the intercom, through clouds of smoke, in parked cars I pass. I keep telling myself to forget the smoke-screened version of you I have created, the one who has your hair and ambles from place to place. “Think of HIM,” I say. “Of who he really was.”
Think of the piles of dandruff on his pillow, the sarcastic way he said “I love you,” and the way he said, “This doesn’t mean we’re going to date again” after kissing you. Think of the pictures of his hand on her knee only a week after you stopped talking. Think of every minute you spent waiting for him to pick you up. Think of the way he never loved you.
Do not, I repeat do NOT, think of the way he looked at you mid-conversation, or the hours you spent in his bed giggling and hiding under the covers as his fan blew on your back. Do not think of the way he blurted out that he loved you. It was not “perfect”. Quit telling yourself so. Forget the front seat of his car and the humid air that leaked through the cracked window. Burn the field where it happened for the first time to the ground. Do not look back on every moment and wonder where you went wrong or what you could have done to keep his attention.
Erase every damned song that reminds you of him and only listen to songs that came out in the past year, songs that have not been spoiled by his memory. Think of the way he did not want to join in the trivia game at the restaurant you ate your last meal at because everybody else who was playing was in their forties. Think of him pressed against her, the same way he was against you, in a fucking shed. Think of the way your feelings embarrassed him. Do not think of his record collection, or the books you talked about, or the way he touched you. Do not tell yourself that he has been the only one who’s understood. Do not whisper his name. Do not think of him as the first boy to grab your hand as he drove, do not think of him with a noose around his neck, do not think of his kisses. Do not. Do not. Do not.