The feministas and their supporters are having a field day today – a football field day. It is not enough for them that they have seen the conviction of a man for rape where the girl concerned was ‘too drunk’ to consent to sexual intercourse, and despite both men claiming that she had consented, the only other witness, the girl, was believed by the jury when she said that she hadn’t consented. She might have been too drunk to remember how she had got to the hotel, but she was not too drunk to remember that she hadn’t given consent to sexual intercourse.
I have no argument with the law which says that being incapable of giving consent does not imply that you have consented. I do not argue with the jury decision, they heard all the evidence, saw the body language, watched the exchanged glances in court, and made their decision as they were entitled to.
Had these events taken place in some far flung field, as they have in the past, I might have more sympathy with the ‘not too drunk to remember that you hadn’t given consent, but too drunk to call out for help’ – this was a hotel, which by its very nature, is full of people, people in the adjoining rooms, people in the reception area, people without the rutting instincts of a randy duck, who might have come to her assistance. Sky reporter Mike McCarthy originally tweeted that he had heard ‘screaming’ coming from the room – whether it was out of regard for his reputation as a gentleman who failed to respond to those ‘screams’ or whether he had been overcome by a fit of journalistic honesty, he later amended his tweet to read ‘squealing’; ‘squealing’ is hardly the best way to call for assistance.
It is the subsequent events which truly puzzle me. I am firmly of the ‘she asked for it’ brigade. It might help to define ‘it’ before you flame me to death. By ‘it’ I do not mean that she asked, or deserved to get raped. I do mean that she bears some responsibility for the events which subsequently got so out of hand that she ended up being raped.
I am well aware that the above statement is anathema to the feministas. In the same genre as Less Jasper’s ‘black people can’t be racist’ we have the theory that women can never ever be responsible in any way whatsoever, no, no, no, for any sexual activity unless they have handed over a signed and witnessed statement consenting to precisely the course of events to follow, including the number of sugars to be put in their post-coital tea.
We have no problem with the police handing out leaflets advising home owners to lock their doors, it doesn’t exonerate house burglary; we have no problem with advice not to leave keys in cars, it doesn’t exonerate car thieves. Let one person insinuate that dressing in your most alluring outfit, heading for a nightclub frequented by footballers and other randy young men, sinking several double measures of alcohol and then heading back to a hotel room late at night with said young men, might possibly lead them to believe that you were prepared to engage in the sort of activity that hotel rooms late at night tend to get put to – and the heavens will open over your head.
That is precisely the situation which occurred on Twitter over the week-end. Sheffield United supporters, with just two games left to play to reverse last years relegation, were upset at losing the match on Saturday. Would they have won if Ched Evans had been playing? Who knows, he might have been their champion scorer (sic) but if that made the game a foregone conclusion then we wouldn’t have football pools. Still, you can’t reasonably expect calm analysis from the average football fan – some may be highly intelligent and principled, but they weren’t the ones on Twitter. Ched Evans wasn’t playing, jailed by a jury who believed that he had raped a teenager. Scarcely surprising that, fuelled by the Tweets emanating from the courtroom all week, they gave vent to the bravado of testosterone. ‘She asked for it’, ‘she was a slag’, ‘Ched Evans’ is innocent, on and Twitteringly on it went.
I blame the feministas for the rash of convictions that will surely follow. They piled onto Twitter with a vengeance, demanding that the law be changed, no one should be allowed to say such terrible things about a hallowed woman. Inevitably, the girl was known locally, and before long someone had named her and was making allegations about other events of a similar nature that she had been involved in. It turned very ugly, despite frequent reminders that naming the victim was a criminal offence, and a warning from North Wales police that they would take action against those who had named her.
Now one of Ched Evans team mates has been suspended from the club following statements he made on Twitter (not of naming the victim). North Wales police are in the process of tracking down the identity of those who did name her and charges will surely follow.
Rape is wrong, undeniably so, so all due condemnation on Ched Evans head – however, I am not monumentally impressed by his team mate either; what sort of man is Clayton MacDonald that he metaphorically ‘passes the ball’ to his team mate and says, OK, you score now? What happens then – does he turn on the TV to pass the time and watch the late night sports news? What sort of girl enjoys spending time round mindless morons like this? Whoops, I’ve done it again…I’ve insinuated that she might share some responsibility for what occurred.
The tragedy of the week-end events on Twitter is that the feministas have engineered a climate in which no blame is permitted to attach to anyone but the owner of the penis which did not have consent. Ched Evans. His fault and his alone. His shoulders to bear all the blame. Those who have overstepped the mark in the fevered after match Twitter atmosphere on Saturday will also be criminalised. His fellow team mate has already been suspended (though not Ched interestingly). The team will suffer. The supporters will suffer. The game will suffer.
Because it is not enough for the feminstas that the owner of the penis should rightfully be jailed – they demand that every conversation within earshot should follow their agenda as to whether this nineteen years and eleven months old ‘teenager’ has responsibility for her safety. They won’t be prosecuted for their behaviour on Twitter on Saturday. The feministas want women to be seen as total victims, passive creatures, rather than those with the strength to stand up and see justice be done.
Give the double vodkas a miss girls, pull your skirt down and your top up, and when the next couple of randy footballers ask if you want to go back to their hotel room at 1am, curl your lip and say ‘you must be joking’. If they try to follow you out of the club, ask the doorman to call you a taxi home. That’s feminism.