No Excuses

This morning I read yet another news article that blamed a young lady because she was raped.

Really? No woman asks to be raped. Rape is about power and has nothing to do with circumstances. If a man has no self-control and makes excuses that use words such as, flirting, drinking, clothing, reputation, or being alone, he is profoundly immoral, malevolent, and incapable of the restraint required for living in a civilized society.

In 2012, FBI statistics reported 36,606 completed rapes in the United States (most recent stats). How can a society that aggressively prosecutes hate speech invent excuses for those who rape women and leave them physically and mentally traumatized?

My dad used to say, “Your rights end where my nose begins.” This also applies to any other part of the anatomy.

Another saying my dad used: “That makes me mad enough to eat fried chicken.” There are no words that can adequately relate how much “madder” than that I am about this issue. Regardless of position or family connections, a rapist is a violent criminal and should be prosecuted as such. Period.


  1. This, and also I heard today about the letter to the judge excusing himself for the Stanford rape. "It is the culture of the campus, of alcohol, blah, blah, blah," upchuck. No, it is your fault and you need to be behind bars for the protection of society.

    The world needs more people like you who are willing to speak up and identify truth.

    1. Vanilla, when I wrote this I had just read an article in the Boston Herald online edition about a case there in which a young man is using the young lady's dress and behavior as his defense.

      After writing my blog, I read about the Stanford rape. It's hard to believe what this guy's father wrote about the guilty verdict. "His life will never be the one he dreamed of or worked so hard to achieve. This is a steep price to pay for twenty minutes of action out of his twenty plus years of life."

      Maybe daddy should have thought about doing some parenting and instilling values during those twenty years. Disgusting.

    2. Short addendum: I recall vividly that my rights ended where Dad's nose began. While I respect the thought, I would like to amend that to read, "Your rights end eighteen inches from my corporeal being, explicit permissions excepted." Or something like that. Hate being "crowded."

    3. Vanilla, I agree about space. I start backing up if someone is talking in my face. I once had a colleague question me about doing that. He was offended that I kept moving back as he moved forward. There should be a universal signal for letting people know they need to back off.