“He has no reason to have molested her because she’s not attractive enough” coda

82-year-old woman raped by teenager.

The Future of the Industry, Part 2

Today in class we got to cast our very own hypothetical film! The premise of said hypothetical film, as dictated by the woman in charge of the exercise: ‘A man has been accused of molesting a woman at work, but he says he didn’t do it’. Volunteers from the class then assembled their own dream casts from a pile of right classy 8 x 12 headshots, requiring: The Man, His Wife, The Victim (Or Is She?).

This post cost my entire weekly food budget

Yes, of course I did.

Plus ca change

Some of this was originally meant to be an article in the last issue of Cerise, but my internet was out of action for most of the week (and the next week, and the next week, and… etc. Just to rub it in, the entire building is permanently connected to a LAN, so I can’t change ISPs) meaning that it wasn’t in on time. I don’t know if it was that much of a blow, since it contains no real insights beyond “Most people between 16 and 25 should be shot on sight, just to be on the safe side” and some bits are probably actionable. I debated whether or not to turn it into a post and eventually decided against it, until by chance I found… something. Specifically, I found the blog of one of the people involved, still acting in exactly the same way, almost six years later. I’m not going to link there, suffice to say there’s a gay joke and a paedophile joke in the title, and his last post was about how Resident Evil 5 (in which heroic white folks travel to Africa and gun down hordes of animalistic cannibal black zombies) isn’t racist… you are. No, you seriously are, and you’ll totally kick yourself when you realise where you were going wrong! See, because he doesn’t have any innate racial prejudice at all, the idea that “a shambling mass of black people infected with disease trying to savagely murder and eat heroic white people” might be racist simply didn’t occur to him… because he isn’t racist. QED. He then magnanimously informs us PC liberal killjoy types that, despite him 100% objectively knowing that it’s not racist, the race issues are still worth discussing - Wow, thanks! - unlike the totally unimportant race issues in Locoroco (starring minstrel slime) and That PSP Billboard (where a white woman has a black woman at her mercy and is presumably about to beat her up). And honestly, if he’s still got a corner of the internet dedicated to informing us plebs of his particular state of grace and latest plan to save the world by listening to more middle-class white guys, then I should write something about the people who were silenced.

(Because I’ve been writing this post in bursts since Tuesday, I should point out that he’s updated again since then, and this time he states that he cares passionately about ‘the perception of games in non-gamer society’. The lack of self-awareness here is staggering, since his sole reaction to any concerns brought up by ‘non-gamer society’ so far has been ‘There is no problem because I say so’. We can only hope that one day day somebody will burst his bubble, possibly literally, using an armoured exoskeleton which has been specially reinforced against sanctimony).

I’m not dredging all this up in a bitterness-fuelled attempt to score points against somebody I haven’t talked to for over a year and isn’t going to read this - Oh, alright - I’m trying to establish context, This kind of over-privileged idiocy and pig-headed refusal to accept other people as human beings, along with random swearing and monkeys zany humour, was the dominant discourse of my online social life for about half a dozen years. The problem, however, isn’t that I’m ashamed of my past since I’m now all enlightened an’ shit. The problem is that I haven’t changed that much either. I’m (hopefully) more clued-up now than back then, but fundamentally I was aware that this kind of attitude was full of shit at the time, even if I hadn’t formed a coherent reason as to why. I did know better, but wouldn’t act on it, and certainly wouldn’t challenge what other people were doing, even in the least confrontational ways.

If this had just been a group of straight white rich guys hanging out together and deciding amongst themselves how oppression worked (Spoiler: In other people’s favour) then it wouldn’t warrant going into detail about, but on two major occasions, it spilled over and started hurting other people. In one case it was somebody I was friends with, leading to a total mindfuck situation where I was trying to offer her moral support whilst simultaneously being best budz 4eva with the people making her feel like shit. But I wasn’t being a go-between or a mediator of any kind, I simply split the situation into halves and didn’t allow them to intersect; she was being pushed progressively further into a state of almost catatonic anxiety by some people, and my friends were treating somebody appallingly, even though they knew she was a suicidal bipolar insomniac on hormone therapy.

The easiest way for me to rationalise my behaviour was to reassure myself that they weren’t intending to hurt her. It wasn’t organised harassment, it was just frat boy stupidity from people who considered themselves above frat boys by virtue of being unpopular. Since she was (1) a woman, (2) gay and (3) trans, the hurt was coming from their off-handed misogynistic / homophobic / transphobic comments, rather than a conscious effort to make her feel like shit. Even now, it’s clear that I’m still trying to make it sound less serious than it was, but they knew - even if they weren’t aware of the intimate details - that she wasn’t terribly stable, and didn’t consider changing the way they acted, as if either the thought had never occurred to them, or it simply wasn’t fair to expect that of them. I didn’t say anything, and justified my status as A Good Person by trying to offer support to her when she asked for it. And, Jesus, that’s so horribly complacent and useless; as if the act of knowing something’s wrong is enough, rather than doing something about it, especially when you have no excuse not to do anything. If I’d told them to stop, what’s the worst that would have happened to me? Coming to the realisation that I didn’t like them slightly earlier? An online argument that reveals them to be a bunch of rape-apologist creeps slightly earlier? Abandoning wretched, insular fanboy “culture” for something worthwhile slightly earlier?

She killed herself about a year after giving up on talking to them. We kept in tough throughout, and while there was obviously so much other stuff going on in her life that contributed to her finally breaking down for good, I’m still obsessing over how it could have gone differently. She had no support network, and there were no communities - online or off - where she felt welcome to just be herself. We should have provided that; she’d come looking for solidarity among other pretentious outcasts. What if she’d actually found it, or at least had somebody stand up for her.

And I rationalised and rationalised and came up with excuse after excuse until it seemed like normal human behaviour that she, tragically, couldn’t deal with. I was, of course, absolved of all guilt through the act of not directly abusing her.

I waited a while to tell them about it, and just kind of let it slip into casual conversation that she’d died. Since this all took place online, I have no idea if it had a real impact on them and they just didn’t show it in text, but it just felt like I’d committed a faux pas. I didn’t mention her after that.

The next time somebody got hurt, there was no ambiguity, it was just pure abuse. I went along with that, too.

This time, she was a student in a class with on of them. She was, by all accounts, really, really annoying, and I don’t dispute that she could very well have been a terrible person. This was what I kept telling myself, because the guy in her class had made the leap from “She’s annoying” to “She deserves multiple pages on a website dedicated to how stupid and ugly she is, and for these pages to be sent around the class that she’s in”, and I had to justify it. This makes me angrier at myself more than anything else that happened; it was blatantly obvious even then that he was picking on her because she was an easy target - female, (apparently) unattractive, didn’t know a lot about video games despite studying them - but we’re meant to think it’s OK because she was “annoying”. It’s a legacy of the Something Awful school of thought, where bullies who want to pretend to be liberal can’t come out and say ‘Let’s pick on this person for being different!’, so instead write a semi-comedic rant explaining why they deserve it, then pick on them for being different. There were, s’far as I recall, two pages on this guy’s website detailing how stupid / ugly / annoying / shovel-faced this girl was, and I told him they were funny. When she found out, she told the police and they asked him to take his website down, which made me feel sorry for him. This is one of those things I don’t think I’m ever going to fully come to terms with having done. There is literally no excuse. It was deliberate, he knew what he was doing, he was motivated purely by a combination of entitlement and misogyny, she didn’t deserve it, God knows what damage it did to her when she found it, but I gave my sympathy to him.

And we stayed friends.

What I realised later was that he could have been saying this about the other woman, the one who’d died. If I hadn’t known her as well, I don’t know if I’d have cared about that situation; wouldn’t she just have been some hysterical freak who couldn’t handle a joke?

I couldn’t keep up the constant strain of making allowances, of rationalising and forgiving behaviour. It’s only now, going over what happened, that I realise how bad the disassociation had gotten. I’d actually split them all into friendly and abusive halves, interacting with one and trying to avoid the other, not wanting to actually admit that the person I was talking to and the person who caused that much emotional damage just for the fun of it were one and the same. Why would you want to hang out with somebody like that, unless you were just as bad?

I promised myself that I’d do the right thing next time, and I did. Judging by the complete lack of any personal growth demonstrated by that critique of Resident Evil 5, I made absolutely no impression on anybody, but at least I don’t have to pretend they’re anything other than human refuse anymore.

The moral of the story is to shout at people more often.

News stories I do not need to hear first thing in the morning (11am, but I’m lazy)

Apparently gender differences are innate and immutable because male rhesus monkeys prefer playing with toy trucks, while female rhesus monkeys prefer playing with dolls. Checking out the relevant New Scientist article in question - It’s online - we find that what actually happened is that the male monkeys preferred to play with toys that had wheels, while female monkeys played with plush toys and toys that had wheels. So… the actual bone-headed literalist reading of the results is that females are more adaptable, more curious and faster learners, while males are narrow-minded and just like watching things go ’round and ’round all day long. As somebody with aversion to bone-headed literalism and no interest in toy trucks (I did build a model APC last night, but that’s different because it’s more expensive), I’m obviously not going to take this interpretation seriously either, but can’t people at least be consistent in their idiocy…?

But no, we focus almost exclusively on the habits of the male monkeys simply because they’re the least challenging. Just so we know that the article’s got an agenda, we’re told that the boys-love-trucks conclusion “may upset those psychologists who insist that sex differences depend on social factors”. You know, those psychologists who insist on things, since there are only two kinds of psychologists in the world; the sane ones who pay attention to proper scientific research, and the crazy ones who hang around outside the supermarket shouting at strangers and trying to flog their theses for gold coin donations. And by ignoring everything the female monkeys did we’re able to make the leap from “male monkeys liked played with toys that had wheels, rather than dolls” to “all gender stereotypes are actually innate parts of primate nature”. When we do hear about female monkeys, it’s one line in paragraph three, and - ‘pon my soul! - it contradicts their conclusion. Imagine if they’d done it with bonobos. Or giant squid.

Before I leave for class… playing with wheeled toys is apparently part of primate nature. Can you see the problem, here?

I’m assuming somebody was paid for this.

LADIES THIS WAY :)

I started this blog because I didn’t have a girlfriend, and that if I were nice to women, maybe a special lady would take pity on me. This was over a year ago, and no matter how much I cringe and pander, not one girl has asked me out

I haven’t given up hope yet. It’s my birthday next week… please don’t let me be alone on my birthday… again.

Richie’s Good Qualities: Deep, sensitive, excellent listener.

Richie’s Bad Qualities: Cares about other people more than himself!

Favourite Music: I will listen to whatever you want

Favourite Movies: Sleepless in Seattle, Bridget Jones’ Diary, Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason, Thelma & Louise, Steel Magnolias, Hostel 2.

Favourite TV Shows: Torchwood, Torchwood Declassified.

Biggest MYTHconception people have about Richie: Lots of people think that Richie is perpetually grumpy and reclusive because he is equal parts morbidly curious and deeply resentful of the 21st century mediscape, and would in fact be relieved if it turned out the entire world was actually an elaborate practical joke at his expense. Nothing could be further from the truth!!! Richie doesn’t smile because a long time ago his heart was broken, and it has never healed. In short, Richie does not smile because Richie has no reason to smile.

*** GIRLS, THIS COULD BE YOU rather than somebody I was in a short film with last week ***

Why Richie’s heart is broken: Back in high school, I spent a lot of time alone. One day, a girl called Cathrine took pity on me and we talked during a bus trip to the Ballarat Wool Museum. I mistook her friendship for something more, and she immediately hated me and started avoiding me, even when I made a point of following her home and hanging around outside the place she had piano practice. Ever since then, I haven’t been able to look at or interact with women face-to-face without feeling physically sick and having violent impulses. Could you be the girl to heal my hurt?

Richie’s Greatest Fear: Being hurt… again.

This comic explains my pain better than words… I know there is an Annamae out there for me somewhere… Could it be you?

GET TO KNOW ME TODAY!!!

Outrage At Online Game From Parallel Universe

Parents’ groups and healthcare experts have condemned an online game which recently appeared on Earth through a magical portal to parallel universe.

The Miss Bimbo online game, which spontaneously appeared through the magical portal at the bottom of Farmer Wormrot’s garden, has attracted an audience of girls as young as nine. Taking control of a virtual “bimbo”, the players compete against each other by buying increasingly revealing outfits, undergoing cosmetic surgery and staying thin by taking appetite suppressants.

Healthcare professionals and parents’ groups have criticised the website for sending such destructive, damaging messages to young women. “Those messages certainly weren’t there before last month”, said a spokesperson for the Keeper of the Realms, “It’s not as if we live in a climate of cultural misogyny that would have inspired anybody on Earth to make this kind of game, so for it to just fall through a magical portal like that has really cocked things up, let me tell you”.

“Of course, people are bombarded with these kinds of messages”, clarified a smirking media pundit whose ironic appreciation of Ed Wood movies provides them with unparalleled insight into popular culture, “but this is only happening in the Golden Kingdom beyond the portal. When you consider that girls over there are socialised from birth to think their only worth is in their appearance, and that boys are brought up believing they’re entitled to sexually harass women as a form of bonding, they’d obviously grow up into the sorts of people who’d make a game like this. But expecting the people of Earth to take responsibility for a freak occurrence which was created entirely in a vacuum by people who aren’t at all a product of our culture is simply ridiculous”. Satisfied that he’d shown his “serious” side, he spent the remainder of the afternoon ridiculing Britney Spears for shaving her head.

“We simply ask that the game is destroyed in the molten heart of Frostblood Mountain” said a spokesperson for Think Of The Children, a group who think about children without actually paying any attention to them. “We are certain this will automatically solve every single problem relating to the game instantaneously”. When asked what would happen if a similar game fell through the portal in the future, he refused to comment.

“Come on girls, it’s just a bit of fun, eh?” added former Big Brother host and displaced banshee Gretel Killeen, before concluding with whatever she thinks will get her on television again.

So it’s come to this: The male gaze in fare evasion warning posters

Metlink’s latest advertising campaign, running from Sunday 24 February, reminds us that the universe is always watching and is ready to exact retribution if you cheat the public transport system. The quirky and humorous advertisements appear in newspapers, on radio, online, and around the public transport network. They show how bad luck can strike fare evaders in return for their actions.

Learning is fun

Today in class we each had to take turns pitching an idea for a ninety second short film. My personal favourites:

• Two people discussing the pros and cons of abortion.
• A woman gets stalked.
• A woman gets stalked by somebody we can’t see.
• A woman gets stalked by somebody we can see, but he was just returning her purse, the prejudicial misandrist harpy.
• A woman gets stalked by several people.
• A woman gets harassed by market researchers and snaps at one of them, but he was just returning her purse.

These people are the future of the industry, and I wish them well.

This army of extreme feminists were meant to just be part of a FUN and ENTERTAINING adventure

The internet in my flat has just been fixed for the third time now, and what better way to celebrate than by reading The Wotch? (nb. I was trapped in an airless stairwell for 20 minutes before I wrote this, so it’s probably going to be even grumpier than normal)