A “man” who brought us movie titles like Scandal, The Hour of the Pig and Scream could, of course, only be someone as predatory, foul and latently self-loathing as Harvey Weinstein. Yet it is that latency that makes Weinstein believe he is still somehow deserving of mercy after decades of assault and general perversion carried out at the cost of others’ permanent trauma. There can be no denying this is the reason he was conveniently rushed to Bellevue Hospital (a name still commonly associated with lunacy) after the pronouncement of his verdict in Manhattan on Feb. 24th: one count of criminal sexual assault in the first degree and one count of rape in the third degree. Sadly, he was not condemned on all five counts, one of them being predatory sexual assault, which would have led to a life sentence. But alas, women are supposed to be grateful for any legal comeuppance Weinstein has received. After all, something like two percent of “men” accused of rape are ever actually jailed for it. Weinstein, evidently, only wants to be part of the one percent wealthy instead of the two percent of convicted rapists. Surely that’s why he decided to have “heart palpitations” at the convenient moment of when he was supposed to be transferred to Rikers Island.
Instead, he was taken to the prison wing of Bellevue, where discussions centered around whether or not he’s “fit” to go to prison based on his deteriorating health is such a prudent idea. The answer, to be sure, is yes. Justice is always a prudent idea. The problem is, in our society, we’ve become so hung up on this notion of being able to forgive a monster in order to move on that we seem to all have forgotten how satisfying it is to slay a proverbial dragon. Watching it slump to the floor in a heap of defeat in some tower that seems to be a prison unto itself. A once “great” titan now nothing but the scaly sum of his deflated parts. Indeed, one hopes the part of Weinstein that has been his and countless women’s undoing is now forever deflated. Then again, a disgusting being such as himself could probably still get an erection in a cellblock. That is, unless the ultimate karmic justice is served and Weinstein is raped on the regular as the “freshest” prison bitch to arrive. Only then, perhaps, would he understand the same feeling of powerlessness he inflicted upon others for so long during his Hollywood Reign of Terror. Ah, but who is one kidding? No one wants to tap that. What’s more, it’s entirely likely that he’ll manage to weasel his way out of any real, truly harrowing jail time by playing the health card to its utmost potential. Because a “man” like him would surely go the way of Jeffrey Epstein if his sentence was actually enforced rather than given merely as a verbally symbolic gesture of the courts.
A running theme throughout the grotesque narratives that have come out of the endless barrage of women finally feeling “somewhat” at ease enough to report the abuse both physical and emotional that they have endured at the hands (or rather, pathetic nubs) of “men” is that they are lying. At first, it was all, “Okay women, we’ll let you have your fun with Harvey Weinstein and some other Hollywood types.” But now that the #MeToo “crusade” has hit the political arena, “men” in suits want to put a stop to the Pandora’s box that has been opened, and they will do so by the most classic means necessary: gaslighting, writing women’s recollections off as “crazy” or “overblown.” That they’re caricaturizing the events or, as the U.S.’ own president claims, are just doing it for publicity or money. This, in turn, has brought about the #SheDominatedMeToo/#SheTheShrew movement.
In the aftermath of the Kavanaugh hearing, it is more apparent than ever that “men” are doing their best to repurpose women’s traumas as nothing more than a “witch hunt,” a way to take down “powerful” “men.” Or, worst of all, that she was rejected and therefore wants to get back at her rejector (see: BØRNS). It would be rather interesting, however, if “men’s” perceptions and memories of a situation weren’t so fucking blacked out, presence of alcohol or not. For you see, the “male” amygdala, a key piece of the brain that helps to process memories and the emotions associated with them is almost as small as their penis, with studies on the effects of the female amygdala finding that “women tend to experience greater enhancement of their memory by emotion.” No fucking shit. This is precisely why to deride a woman for having the courage to come out thirty-five years later with her story (which, frankly, still isn’t enough time to have learned to deal with the scar left on your psyche) is quintessentially callous in terms of a “male” reaction. For a “man” can erase with more efficaciousness than a pencil (not to be confused with his pencil dick). Filing away events and feelings as effortlessly as a girl Friday, the “male” mind has no room in its data bank to consider such things as being ruined for life by the careless action of another. No, he has much more important subjects to think about: like who to abuse next.
So when it comes to how baffling it is that “men” have such a predilection toward cold clinicism in their relationships with women, in short, it’s like Cardi B said, “Teach me to be like you so I can not give a fuck.” In truth, “men” only react in an emotional way when something they say has been challenged or the perception of their nonexistent virility is questioned. Which is precisely why they’re all so fucking scandalized by the women emerging in droves to tell it like it is. That it’s not okay. And it’s not a witch hunt, it’s just that the witches themselves have finally caused the bitches to reach their threshold for pain. “Crying rape” is not crying wolf any more than denying what really happened makes what a “man” did go away.
For the most part, “men” don’t really like to like to include themselves in the “vapidity” of female conversation, least of all when it addresses something icky like periods or rape. But now that they’re all under an extreme line of fire after Alyssa Milano’s friend (who, by the way, should have been credited by name for launching tens of thousands of responses–but that’s one for Missing A Clit) suggested, “If all the women who have been sexually harassed or assaulted wrote ‘Me too’ as a status, we might give people a sense of the magnitude of the problem.” Please note the deliberate use of the phrase “all the women.” This isn’t to say that “men” aren’t and can’t be sexually abused (usually by other “men,” priests or otherwise, because, quite simply, women aren’t predatory fuckfaces). But it is to say that the #MeToo movement isn’t about their “experiences.” And yeah, I’m sure there are a lot of “well-meaning” “guys” who just want women to know that they can empathize, or at least are trying to. Sometimes, however, standing in the wings of the stage called collective confession is best.
We are living in a time of extreme dismantlement of the old guard. A time when the “smooth” lothario type à la Don Draper simply won’t be stood for anymore, whose “it’s all in good fun” behavior won’t be swept under the rug. The list of unmasked predators over the past several months alone–from Harvey Weinstein to ex-Real Estate guitarist Matt Mondanile–is only a small indication of how long this comportment has been permitted to thrive amid the fear of women who have been frightened for one reason or another to come forward. Whether out of being afraid to lose their jobs or of being discredited and made to feel “crazy” for “imagining” such things, it takes a few women’s admissions of being victims for a landslide to gain momentum. That they’ve been able to on the heels of this barrage of “revelations” about “men” in positions of power only adds to the catharsis. So please “men,” for once in your motherfucking lives, don’t make this about you.