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View Article  Some Judges Need to Crawl Back Under Their Rocks

The local NBC station reports that a Georgia woman is requesting that the state court of appeals reconsider her sexual assault case.  The article also indicates her intention to appeal to the state Supreme Court.  It appears she was a student at Mercer University in 2003.  She claims to have been raped there while at a fraternity house.  The original judge in the case:

determined lacerations do not prove rape, and that she had to list her past sexual partners, since only virgins can bring a case for sexual battery in civil court.

I am not aware of any legal virginity requirement* as a prerequisite to pursuing rape charges, particularly when the victim can present corroborating evidence commonly accepted by most courts run by judges of less than 10% Neanderthal heritage - namely, lacerations.

So, it's bad enough this throwback to the 1300s relies on faulty synaptic wiring to reach a conclusion my doormat would know was incorrect, he orders the woman to pay the defendant's legal fees - since, you know, she's not a virgin and therefore cannot be raped.  But the real kicker is this - the defendant in this case is Daniel Day, who happens to be the son of Georgia State Representative Burke Day, whose name you just might recognize from the Days Inn hotel chain.

The defendant's attorney maintains his client's innocence, of course, and suggests the victim was only faking it to extort cash out of the family.  'Cause it's such a fun way to spend your time, taking the stand and testifying in your rape case against the guy who (edited 04/03/08 at 4:30 to add the word allegedly, which I've just realized was forgotten when I first posted) assaulted you, and having to lay out your entire life and sexual history for complete strangers to "ooh," and "aah" and envy you over.  It's like conga-ing barefoot with Pol Pot across a field of broken glass interspersed with rotting meat.  Ooh fun.  Sign me up!

The judge's name is not mentioned in this article, but the victim's is.  Some people just use up entirely too much air for no good purpose.


*  I recognize that civil law differs from criminal, and that for a very long time women, and their virginity, were treated, and considered under law, as men's property.  The civil case, in those days, would have arisen from the father's loss of money (in terms of having to provide a larger dowry to form a less favorable marraige, or in terms of thereby being saddled with the care of his damaged goods for the rest of her life).  I am not, however, aware of any such law currently on Georgia's books.  If I am mistaken in this, please let me know so I can begin writing the appropriate letters.

View Article  An Open Letter to the Left

I do believe I have fallen through the looking glass.  Up is down, down is up, frogs rain down and bark at me with their beady little ears.

 

Funny, I don't recall dropping acid.

 

So many sites I once thought of as bastions of sanity, lost to me; covered in the ash of a needless, senseless, useless implosion.  Stop, people, just stop.

 

A year ago it was only the conservatives who vilified Hillary Clinton as a baby-eating, do-anything-to-win, non-cookie-baking, stand-by-your-man, lying, frigid whore.  Now everyone’s jumped on the blinder bandwagon.

 

Enough. 

 

Enough with the piling on.  Enough with the Clinton Rules.  Enough with the automatic assumption that Hillary is the Bride of Satan and that everyone who doesn’t hate her is a traitor.  We had 8 long, terrible years of that under Bush, and I have had more than my fill – particularly from my own side of the political equation.  Do we really need to stoop so low to prove we are no different from those we once claimed to despise?

 

I know I’m just one tiny, tiny blogger back in the fray after a very long absence; Iam nobody, and I know it’s extremely unlikely anyone’s paying attention – but I hope somewhere, someone hears my plea – because I'm really tired of seeing us eat our own with such utter joy and total, reckless abandon, and I really cannot imagine that I am as alone as I feel.

View Article  In Honor of National Poetry Month

flashing

the rage falls loosely out of place
forgetting to stay where I have pinned it
and elephants tap dance out of sight
glass breaks
winking as it trips merrily to the floor
and I follow it down
as we shatter together again
brittle cousins of discord

pinpoints impatiently protest constraint
pricking at the old flesh
and demanding to be heard
shadows fold
sinking as they consume all thought
and I tag along
as we plunge toward the end
blooded kin without reward

flotsam congregate in the hall
somehow eluding the wire ropes
and cackling at such self indulgence
they gather
blinking as the light intrudes
and I bind them away
as we reach for the surface
twin choirs in drunken chord

View Article  Ghosts of Mississippi
"What is the victory of a cat on a hot tin roof? I wish I knew..." - Maggie

Tennessee Williams - playwright, author, alcoholic - was always something of an envelope pusher, his work constantly nagging at the public to (as the producers from American Beauty might say) "go deeper." Though known for exploring themes of deception and desire on a regular basis, and for writing works of stunning, if occasionally somewhat appalling, characterization, Williams' Cat on a Hot Tin Roof nevertheless took some audiences by surprise when it opened in 1955. The author's candid treatment of homosexuality and the contemporary social issues surrounding it was unequivocally groundbreaking for mainstream theatre, and quite shocking for the repressed society of the time.   

More after the jump... »
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