God, it depresses me to even write that title. A specific, Yuletide anti-rape message is not the first thing that springs to mind when thinking about the ‘festive’ time of year, is it? Y’know, cards, presents, eggnog, targetted posters reminding men that rape isn’t nice despite the presence of mistletoe. For shit.
Does rape become more prevalent around this time of year? I’ve no idea – and I couldn’t find any stats that suggested whether that was the case or not – but I suppose there’s just more instances of women going out, getting drunk, having fun, needing reigning in, needing jack-booting back to the kitchen…
Oh, I’m being curmudgeonly. Possibly. Well, see what you think:
[brought to my attention by Too Much to Say for Myself]
So, you see, the campaign has one, huge, huge, thing going for it.
It doesn’t victim blame. Even if only, specifically, for drinking.
It doesn’t victim blame. I find it difficult to be pissed at any rape campaign which doesn’t actively blame the victim. You know?
But there has been criticism. We, feminists, as the Daily Mail will tell you, are never fucking happy.
My own personal criticism is that whilst it holds the victims not to blame – my, how far we’ve come! – the campaign appears to uphold another, very important rape culture myth: that only young, attractive, patriarchal-compliant women get raped. Oh, and apparently, only white women get raped – who knew, right?
Ugly women – whether ‘ugly’ because they’re old, or fat, or hairy or disabled, or whatever – these women do not get raped. Right? I don’t even need to tell you the myth I’m talking about, right?
That rape happens because men can’t control their penis in the face of an attractive young piece of tail in a vest top. That one. That when ‘ugly’ women get raped, they don’t get raped, they get lucky. Because who would, otherwise, want to fuck that? More, that when ‘ugly’ women get raped, they don’t actually get raped, because who would want to fuck that at all?
That when ‘ugly’ women get raped, they don’t actually get raped, because they are fantasising, because who would want to fuck that?
So, am I being curmudgeonly? Or should I accept that a step forward is at least a fucking step forward?
That, my friends, is the essential dilemna of the feminist curmudgeon.