TWO SOLDIERS ACCUSED OF RAPE, PART ONE

Vassar Bushmills

Since “She said-He said” is all the political rage right now, I have a couple of cases that are almost on point, both of which point out the reason why our judicial system of evidence is so important.

At one time I had planned on turning both of these tales into short stories and maybe even a script, but the thought left me years ago.

The first was a case where a WAC accused an Army sergeant of rape, told here, and the second, where an older Japanese national, who worked in the post laundry, accused an Army Spec4 (Honor Guard) of raping her. I could not represent him in Japanese court, and he was convicted, probably solely on the basis that he was a foreigner, a “gaijin”, as no foreigner had ever been acquitted in a Japanese criminal court.

Each of these stories would take several thousand words to tell, to give full detail of the  evidence and behind-the-scenes political play, and how we’ve just seen elements of both trials play out on national television and the media.

I’ll only outline them here, but they are both very teachable, and both caused a great deal of injury.

About criminal rape cases in general, you don’t see a lot of news about them as most never go to trial. This is because the evidence to actually convict is usually so conclusive that the defendant will almost never take his chance with a jury. By evidence I mean the medical and photographic evidence; bruises, wounds, semen results. The accused’s testimony serves to set the accusation, but it is the evidence that convicts.

Only in the rarest of cases is there an actual fact-issue of guilt that makes it to trial.

We hear a lot about “He-said, She-said” today, but it has always been around. But standing-alone it almost never resulted in a criminal charge, let alone a conviction. That’s why we only hear about them in the media, or in front of a college complaint boards, where one party, usually the accused, aren’t really able to defend themselves. I always think about the trial of Joan of Arc or the old Court of Inquisition from the middle Ages when I hear of these.

I’ll start with the American rape case, 1974.

An SFC Robert came into see me on a Monday morning. He was with the base MP Detachment. He said at about 4 AM MP’s came to his BOQ room, hold him he’s been accused of rape, read him his rights and took him down to the station to be booked, then to the hospital to be inspected.

In my five years in the Army, he was the “strackest” (is that term is still used today) soldier I’d ever seen. Over 6′, handsome black man, unsmiling, stood at attention until I asked him to sit down, which he did by occupying about only half of the seat, back rigid, both feet on the floor, garrison cap neatly folded in his hand.

I had to pull answers out of him. He spoke in short sentences, almost as if he were reading from a police blotter, which in fact, was part of his job with the MP Detachment. He’d briefed a lot of officers in his day.

He never smiled, neither did he ad lib. Or curse. Or laugh at my famous ad libs. Stiffest man I ever met, and I quickly started to wonder about what his passions were, his friends, his hobbies.

Turns out, it was golf, which, for a black man in the 70s, was a story unto itself.

SFC Robert’s story: He told me he’d been in a golf tournament on Saturday, and had finished 3rd, his best finish he said, so picked up Spc5 Paul (his best friend on post, and best friends with his wife back in South Carolina) and they went off post for some yakitori and Kirin. Not a big drinker (he said) a few too many it seems, so Paula drove back to the WACs barracks, which was only a few hundred yards form his BOQ.

As Paula was handing him the keys, and was going in the front door, this other WAC named Ann, Spec4 Ann, leaned out a second story window and began “woo-wooing” Robert. “Oh Robert, why don’t me and you go out?”

Robert told me this WAC had been pursuing him for several months. He said that the other MP’s had told him that she’d vowed to have sex with every black member of the MP Detachment, and that he was the only hold out.

No matter where he went, NCO Club, NCO mess, no matter where, if they were in the same room, she’d come over and tease him.

With Paula standing right there, and most the WAC’s knowing the scuttlebutt about Ann’s trophy quest, Robert said he just snapped, partly because he was drunk and party because Paula heard part of this exchange. He yelled up, “Come down here” and then, when she came out the door, said “Get in the car.” Several people saw them.

He drove about half a mile to the Torii Park, with a miniature Torii Gate in the center, where kids played in the daytime.

Lake Ashi Floating Torii [creative commons]

Once parked, he said he turned to her, and began berating her. “But she began reaching for me, trying to grab my hand and put it on her.” I asked him “Where?” but he wouldn’t elaborate, “You know.”  He said he grabbed her several times by the arms, and twice by the legs as she tried to crawl over the gear shift knob.

He seemed actually embarrassed in telling me this. For a 17-year E7, he was most unworldly man I’d ever seen.

She was trying to excite him, I guess. He didn’t know if she even knew he was drunk. (I’d ask her about that at a later time.) This grab-and-tickle went on for a few minutes and then he finally started up the car and drove her back to the barracks, then went to his quarters to sleep it off.

“Did you ever unzip your trousers? No, Sir. Did she unzip your trousers? No, sir.”

“OK, Sergeant, big questions then. Did you ever have “intercourse” with her? No. Sir. Did you even kiss her? No, Sir.”

Next morning Chief Prosecutor Ron came by, dropped the CID file on my desk, and said “The Boss said we’re going with a GCM (General Court Martial) per the General. ” 20 years.

I thumbed through the stack of photos and reports, looking for a semen report. “No swab?’

“Couldn’t find any, but it’s still aggravated rape with injury.”

“Why?”

“Because she insisted she was raped. Penetration. We’ll let the jury decide.”

I first interviewed Spec5 Paula, and she confirmed the front end of Robert’s story at the barracks, and yes, she was best friends with Robert and his wife back in the states. She also confirmed the rumor of Spc4 Ann’s pursuit of Robert. I then asked her if Robert had talked with his wife? Had she talked with his wife? Would she recommend me write his wife, to say I thought we had a 50-50 chance, which is very high in rape cases. (She never got back to me on that.)

I then canvassed the other MPs, and all confirmed this campaign by Ann, and that yes, each of them had all succumbed to her pleas. After all it was a freebie with no strings attached. Yes, a couple of them were married, too. But since they all knew it was just a list to be checked off, “Why not?”…out to the Torii Gate park, hop in the back seat, back to the office, usually within an hour, didn’t even have to buy lunch, what was the harm? Not a one of them said they’d ever been on a date with her, you know, movie, popcorn.

Then I read Spc4 Ann’s report, and she told an entirely different series of events, where they went to the Torii Park just to do some necking, and then he assaulted her, stripped her cut-offs, and her panties, and raped her. He then returned her to the barracks, where she immediately rushed to her room, took off her clothes, put them in a barracks bag, and called the MP’s, who took her straight to the hospital for examination.

(Note, “rape” means intercourse, so there must be penetration. But not all rapes are completed, as often the rapist is drunk and can’t finish the job, if you know what I mean.)

In her CID report Ann made no mention of having pursued SFC for nearly a year.

The medical exam and photos showed wrist and arm bruises and knee bruises consistent with being gripped tightly. No redness inside the thighs or groin area. She was a fair-skinned blonde, so expected. Inconclusive as to who the aggressor was though. (SFC Robert’s exam showed no scratches or body marks.)

Last, I interviewed Spc4 Ann, who was the exact opposite of SFC Robert. While he was stiff and wooden, she was as indifferent to rank, or for that matter, manners, as I’ve ever seen. I expected her to throw her legs up on my desk and light up a Marlboro, she was so casual.

This took about two hours, because I believe I knew things she didn’t know I knew. There was about a 2 hour difference in her time line and the one Robert gave, which would have given her time to get back to the room and make herself more presentable for a medical examiner. I had questions I’d save for trial, depending on whether she told the prosecutor about her long term pursuit of Robert, Turns out, she hadn’t.

Finally, I broached the whole question about penetration and completion. I mentioned that a lot of people who’d been drinking a lot couldn’t get erections, when she interrupted me, and said,

“Well, no matter how drunk they are, black men always have a semi-erection”…only she didn’t use “erection”.

My chin hit the desk. It wasn’t that she said it, but the way she said it, as if she were a college professor answering a silly question from a student.

Leading up to trial we had a complication which always angers the front office. Robert invoked his privilege to ask for a field-grade officer to defend him (Major or higher) so everything had to be set back two weeks so this new man could come on board and be brought up to snuff. Maj Jim was from Ft Lewis, Washington and arrived 5 days before trial. Surprise, Surprise, he’d never tried a case in his life. Still, he would be lead counsel, so I had to arrange for him to meet all the witness and go over all my notes. Actually, a really nice guy

I asked that he let me cross-examine Spc4 Ann, and we would collaborate with the others.

At trial, we had a full-colonel judge, which had to flown in, and a full board, headed by an O6 colonel, including three senior NCO’s and a female captain. I knew all of them.

MAJ Jim made the opening statement telling the jury what we intended to prove, beginning with a string of black MP’s waiting in an anteroom to testify about Spc4 Ann’s trophy quest. Spc4Ann was also waiting in another ante-room, so she heard none of this.

And Ann would be first to testify, so I was first up for cross-examination.

On direct, she was almost as casual as in my office. Not a good look, way too matter-of-fact in describing the assault. I’m not sure how the Prosecutor had coached her, but there was no pain or outrage. So, when I began my cross-examination I began by asking her about her relationship with SFC Jim before that night. Were they friends socially? I would lead her with questions like, “Well weren’t you chasing him?” or “Did you know he was married?” setting her up for answers Maj Jim would elicit from the other witnesses. We had witnesses waiting.

Most of all I wanted her to explain how an event she’d wanted to happen for close to a year would end up as an assault. What sort of words set that off?

Finally, as I walked her through her testimony about the assault, just as I had in my office, I asked if she was sure there had been penetration.

“Yes, I just said there was”.

“You testified that he’d been drinking? I’ve been told that most men who’d been drinking can’t get erections. How would he have been able to make penetration?”

“Oh, black men always have semi-hard-ons, even when they’re drunk”, saying it just as she did in my office, in one of those “everybody knows” tones. This was knowledge she was proud to boast about.

A gasp went up in the court room.

I said “I have nothing further with this witness, Your Honor” and she stepped down. Then the defense rested, Maj Jim took the case forward, first with Paula then four MP’s (the Prosecution stipulated to the rest) and then SFC Robert told his story just as wooden and stiff as when he first told me in my office. Then the Defense rested.

Final arguments were made, and I gotta say, Maj Jim was a natural at stating our theory of the case, “She said, He-said, who’re you going to believe?”…then outlining why the jury should think the weight of our “He-said” testimony should out-weigh her “She-said.”

The judge gave the jury their instructions and they retired….for only about 30 minutes, when the jury came back with a “Not Guilty verdict” Their only comment was that they recommended charges for the woman.

Analysis:

I’ll bet you think that outrageous comment I pulled out of Spec4 Ann was the clincher. Well, maybe, but in a She-said, He-said  case, whether a rape, a pinch, a leer, or even an unwanted comment about nice boobs, the matter of proof revolves around believability, which is why we have juries instead of college commissions as the finders-of-fact.

Without semen as evidence, “She-said- He-said” ended in a tie, and as you know, the accused always wins the ties. At least since the Magna Carta that is, and it’ll take a new king (or queen) with a large occupying force in order to change that.

So the conduct and believability of the witnesses…only two of them…mattered. Weighing the word of a stiff, wooden, un-hip black senior sergeant who answers primarily in “Yes sirs” and “No sirs” against the word of a dishwater blonde who was a little too casual about the African-American male anatomy was an easy call for that 6-man and 1-woman jury.

Epilogue:

The jury didn’t get their wish. Sp4 Ann was not charged. The Army just shipped her out stateside to finish her tour-of-duty  But she had lied (perjury) about Ann’s year-long pursuit of Robert.

But Sp4 Ann even got her revenge, and this is the tragedy of it, for they shipped SFC Robert out as well and about six months later Spc5 Paula came by to tell me  hat Robert’s wife had sued for divorce. She never believed him. Maybe we should have written that letter after all.

Sometimes all it takes is an accusation to destroy a family of lives.

Rape Accusations, Leftists, Blurred Lines, and poor Brett Kavanaugh

Once Orwellian Leftists got their hands on it, “rape” as traditionally understood became a malleable concept to be used to destroy political enemies.

Item: Former Vice President Joe “Creepy Touch” Biden, when announcing that the Obama White House was creating a task force to address campus rape, stated “One in five of every one of those young women who is dropped off for that first day of school, before they finish school, will be assaulted in her college years.”

In fact, that statistic goes far beyond being a lie or a damn lie. It’s a complete fraud. This video soundly debunks that statistic:

Here’s the key takeaway:

[That “statistic”] comes from a study conducted over the internet at two large universities one in the Midwest and one in the South. The survey was anonymous no one’s claims were verified and terms were not clearly defined. In round numbers, a total of 5,000 women participated. Based on their responses, the authors, not the participants, determined that 1,000 had been victims of some type of non-consensual or unwanted sexual contact and — voila! — from one vaguely worded unscientific survey we suddenly arrived at a rape culture on college campuses. Tellingly, the study authors have since explicitly stated that it’s inappropriate to use their survey to make that claim. Much more comprehensive data from the US Bureau of Justice Statistics or “BJS” estimates that about one in 52.6 college women will be victims [sic] of rape or sexual assault over the course of four years. That’s far too many, but it’s a long way from one in five. The same BJS data also reveal that women in college are safer from rape than college aged women who are not enrolled in college — but the truth doesn’t serve the purposes of feminist activists or vote seeking politicians. Lies work much better and the one in five claim is tantamount to a lie.

Let me say it again: the notion of a campus “rape culture” is a grotesque lie, based on a manifestly flawed study, that the Left peddles because it allow them to control young women and destroy young men. As Glenn Reynolds likes to point out, no sentient adult actually believes this statistic because no loving parent would ever allow his or her child to go to a place that has a rate rape comparable to the rate in South Africa, one of the most sexually violent countries in the world. The only ones who believe these statistics are college administrators and the terrified female students brought to heel by these statistical lies.

For those unclear on why I added “Creepy Touch” to Biden’s name, this video helps explain:

Item: According to Time, a once reputable magazine, a Pentagon study claims that, at some military installations, more than 500 women, and quite a few men, are sexually assaulted every year:

A newly released Pentagon study revealed that many sexual assaults in the U.S. military occur across the globe at a relatively small number of bases and naval ships, including some installations where more than 500 incidents occurred in a single year.

The 119-page study, conducted by Rand Corporation, surveyed American service members to uncover where troops were most at risk of sexual assault and harassment. In many cases, installations with large populations of younger, single, and more-junior-ranking service members had a greater probability of these incidents occurring.

“Each service member’s estimated risk of being sexually assaulted in the next year depends, to a surprising extent, on his or her duty assignment to a particular unit, command, and installation,” the study said.

[snip]

Rand said more than 1700,000 active duty service and Coast Guard members completed an online sexual assault and sexual harassment survey fielded in August and September 2014. More than 560,000 were invited to participate. [The actual number is 170,000 not, as Times’ typo implies, 1,700,000.]

[snip]

A total of 6,769 men and women reported assaults in the year that ended Sept. 30, up from 6,172 a year earlier. The reports came in from uniformed service members and civilian workers. It was the highest number of reported assaults since at least 2006, the last year the Pentagon has available on the data.

There are a few points to be made based upon the above.

First, assuming all those sexual assaults are rapes (which they are not), the U.S. military, made up of young men and young women in the prime of their sexual life, has a rape rate that’s lower than 4%. Keep in mind, please, that we’re repeatedly told that America’s college campuses have a rape rate of 20% to 25%. Parents, if you want to keep your young’uns safe, send them to the military, not to college.

Second, back during WWII, when women were mobilized for the war, men and women were kept strictly segregated and chaperoned. The people in charge might have had Victorian minds (like sinks, you know), but they certainly understood that, if you want to prevent rape, you don’t mix and mingle the sexes, especially when it comes to bedrooms and bathrooms.

Third, if you read the entire Time article, you’ll note something interesting — it never once defines what constitutes “sexual assault.” Only near the end does one learn that the number of “sexual assaults” claims includes everything from sexual harassment to actual rape. Depending on how a respondent to the survey defines harassment, that’s like saying that the military is filled with terribly ill people, provided that one includes in the data set of illness everything from hangnails to cancer.

Because the Time article was silent about what constituted sexual assault, I went to the Rand report itself. I plowed through pages of densely written information about different bases and zip codes, different branches of the military, and all sorts of other survey methodology (including calculus formulas) and discovered that the official report never once defines what constitutes either sexual assault or sexual harassment.

I finally did track down a 2014 Rand Study on “sexual assault and sexual harassment in the U.S. Military” and got a chance to see one of the surveys used in the most recent survey (which is primarily aimed at tracking the geographic places in which assault and harassment are most likely to happen).

It’s instructive to see that the 2014 survey does not ask whether people were raped — that is, whether they were sexually penetrated, had oral sex performed on them, or were forced to perform sexual acts on another, in each case against their will. Instead, the survey jumbles together everything from off-color jokes to touches on non-sexual parts of the body (arms, hands), to touches on sexual parts of the body, to out-and-out rape and is equally interested in people’s emotional responses to things, including things that my generation would have laughed off or ignored.

I’ve embedded the Rand document immediately below, and you can see the questions beginning at 117 of the survey (or 137 of the Scribd document):

Sexual Assault and Sexual Harassment in the U.S. Military by Sunny Bookie Berman on Scribd

Item: Going back to the first Rand study I mentioned above, the one referenced in the Time article, the Rand study states at page 26 (if one counts the cover page as “page 1”), that “sexual assault is known to be substantially underreported, and more so for men than women.”

I’ll ask here the same question I always ask when I see that statement (and I see it everywhere): I accept as true that rape, especially when men are raped, is underreported — but if it’s not being reported, how in the world do we know the factor by which it is underreported?

I’m sure some of you reading my question will happily throw at me theories about statistical extrapolation, but that doesn’t get one past a very serious problem with this whole “underreporting claim”: The only way we can say sexual assaults are underreported is if we have a cohort of people (and I have no idea whether there’s ever been a rigorous statistical analysis of a such a cohort) who say, “Oh, I was sexually assaulted but for x, y, or z reasons, I never reported the assault to the police.”

The problem with accepting those statements as proof that sexual assault is underreported is (a) that, with this kind of self-reporting, we don’t have records, as we do when the criminal justice system gets involved, about the nature of the act, i.e., whether it was goosing someone, calling them a sexually insulting name, or raping them, all of which are assaults related to sex but are very different in nature; and (b) that we don’t have any way of knowing whether these “underreported” sexual assaults actually happened.

If a sexual assault goes into the criminal justice system, we have evidence as to the nature of the assault and we have police and judicial proceedings that give us some insight into whether the claimed assault actually happened or if it was a false claim, intended either to harm a specific man or to gain sympathy and drama for a psychopathic woman. The whole underreporting theory provides alleged data that’s based on . . . well, nothing.

Item: Let’s talk about rape hoaxes and fake rape claims. The current mantra from the Left when anyone who isn’t named Keith Ellison, Bill Clinton, or Teddy Kennedy is involved, and especially when a Republican figure is involved, is that women must be believed.

Joe Biden decided to change the foundational premise of our Western criminal justice system, which is that someone is innocent until proven guilty:

For a woman to come forward in the glaring lights of focus, nationally, you’ve got to start off with the presumption that at least the essence of what she’s talking about is real, whether or not she forgets facts, whether or not it’s been made worse or better over time. But nobody fails to understand that this is like jumping into a cauldron.

Kirsten Gillibrand went for the “I believe because . . . abortion” theory of truth-telling, mixed in with a soupçon of “you’re guilty unless you demand that the FBI prove you’re innocent of a time-barred, alleged assault that occurred at some indeterminate time and place with the only named witnesses denying the event”:

I believe Dr. Blasey Ford because she’s telling the truth. And you know it by her story; you know it by the fact that she told her therapist five years ago. It was documented at the time; we have the therapist’s notes. She told her husband. This is a trauma she’s been dealing with her whole life. She doesn’t want to be in a bedroom that doesn’t have two doors; people knew that about her a long time ago. She told a friend a year ago. She told a reporter before Judge Kavanaugh was ever named.

These are the hallmarks of truth. These are the hallmarks of someone who wants to be believed because she fears that if this person is confirmed, he will do terrible things for [American] women. She is concerned that he does not have the character, the integrity, the honesty to be a Supreme Court Justice.

I believe her because she’s telling the truth. She is asking the FBI to investigate her claims. She is asking for that kind of review, that investigative work, that oversight, that accountability because she’s telling the truth.

Someone who is lying does not ask the FBI to investigate their claims. Who is not asking the FBI to investigate these claims? The White House. Judge Kavanaugh has not asked to have the FBI review these claims. Is that the reaction of an innocent person? It is not. So we have to get to the bottom of this as Americans before we put someone on the Supreme Court for life.

Mazie Hirono opted for the “shut up, evil men!” approach to dealing with guilt or innocence:

I expect the men in this country and the men in this committee because we all signed on to this letter to demand an FBI investigation. But really guess who is perpetuating all of these kinds of actions? It’s the men in this country. And I just want to say to the men in this country: just shut up and step up, do the right thing for a change.

And of course, there’s Hillary Clinton, the same gal who used to go totally scorched earth against the women who credibly, and over the course of decades, accused her husband of rape and other forms of aggressive, physical, and highly unwanted, sexual attacks against women:

I could cite endless other examples, but it’s boring and scary to wade through the totalitarian brain, especially when that brain is becoming the dominant note in one of America’s two major political parties.

The common thread in all of the above is that women would never lie about rape. But we know that’s untrue. Sadly, women lie about rape all the time. That doesn’t mean that all or most women lie about rape, it just means that lying about rape is definitely a thing:

  • The Scottsboro Boys were imprisoned and had their lives otherwise destroyed based upon two women’s false rape allegations.
  • 14-year-old Emmett Till was brutally lynched when a woman lied about him grabbing her in a sexual manner.
  • The utterly vile Al Sharpton came to national prominence, and unleashed racial violence, when he latched onto Tawana Brawley’s false rape claims against four white men.
  • Three members of the Duke Lacrosse team were tried on a false rape claim (with the woman who made the claim later going on to murder her boyfriend).
  • Rolling Stone magazine, whether acting intentionally or foolishly, tarred a University of Virginia fraternity as rape central based upon an obviously false story by a disturbed young woman who wanted a boy’s attention.
  • In England, a woman got ten years in prison for repeatedly making false rape claims, one of which saw a man wrongly imprisoned himself.

Those are just some examples. I recommend checking out the Innocence Projects’ list almost 300 overturned sex crime convictions that saw men spend years or decades in prison.

So when those Leftist politicians state that women never lie — the politicians are lying and, unless they were born yesterday, they know they’re lying. Their claims about women and rape, or women and harassment, or women and whatever, are knowing frauds stated for political purposes.

And of course, as noted with reference to Hillary above, the flip side is true. Never, never think you can get away with blaming a useful Democrat of rape, even if your charges are manifestly truthful. There was a brief window last year, during the first flare-up of #MeToo, when the establishment allowed women (and some men) to purge men who were no longer politically useful, such as Weinstein, Spacey, Keillor, Rose, or Lauer.

Now, though, after that paroxysm, we’re back to lauding (1) Teddy Kennedy, the manslaughtering, raping Lion of the Senate; (2) Bill Clinton, the “put some ice on that” eminence grise of the Democrat party; and (3) Keith Ellison, the “I don’t care about the contemporaneous police report of sexual assault because I’m a Muslim black man,” second-in-command of the Democrat National Committee.

IRelying on the several items I’ve stated above there are a three obvious trends emanating from the Left:

  1. If you do it, no matter what you do, it’s rape. If we do it, no matter what we do, it’s not even sexual harassment.
  2. To tighten control over young women, beginning in college, we will falsely induce in them fear and hatred of heterosexual men by taking every interaction between men and women and portraying it as a form of assault and power abuse.
  3. If women cry rape against a Republican or straight white male, they are telling the truth, no matter the manifest holes in, frivolity of, or political motive behind their claim; if they blame a Democrat, they are lying, no matter the objective evidence supporting their claim.

In other words, the Left has blurred the lines. When it comes to relationships between men and women, whether neutral, playful, irritating, dangerous, or criminal, there is no longer any absolute truth. By gaming the numbers and glossing over definitions that once had meaning in terms of defining human behavior, the notion of rape as a specific criminal act no longer exists. Sexual assault, as a violent criminally-defined act, no longer exists. All that exists is control over the narrative and over women’s fears.

It’s blurred lines, folks, except without the catchy beat and semi-naked models:

This is the Kafka-esque world into which poor Brett Kavanaugh has stumbled. Kavanaugh thought he was going to prove his qualifications for the Supreme Court by pointing to an exemplary life that goes back at least 35 years, by pointing to a sterling academic record, by highlighting brilliant opinions, and by stalwart fealty to the Constitution. How could he have imagined 27 years after the failed attack on Clarence Thomas that the sexual terrorism of blurred lines would strike again?

Another drunk woman and another fake rape story from Stanford

At Stanford, another woman who refused to take responsibility for her own self-destructive acts cried rape and is determined to destroy a man’s life.

Rape, real rape, is a terrible crime. It’s a violent assault against a person’s bodily integrity that attacks the very core of their being. To the extent that women are the most common victims (outside of prisons), it’s a ferociously misogynistic display of the worst masculine brute force.

True rape is an act that deserves to be treated with the utmost seriousness in the criminal law system. I’m not an advocate of the death penalty for it, but I support long prison sentences (unlike the delicate hand slaps Nordic countries are meting out to their new Muslim overlords when the latter practice their culturally sanctioned rape against the dhimmi women in their new caliphates).

Well I am ferociously opposed to real rape — the forcible sexual penetration of another human being — I am equally ferociously opposed to fake cries of rape. Long-time readers know that I was absolutely furious over the Brock Turner matter: older woman goes to frat party, gets black-out drunk, makes out with an equally drunk younger man, he’s later caught rutting over her unconscious body (which may have been clothed in the relevant places), and his life is destroyed.

Both Turner and the woman were stupid, stupid, stupid to get that drunk, but to the extent there’s no evidence one way or another whether she consented, and it’s obvious he was every bit as incapacitated as she was, it’s outrageous that she gets sympathy and he gets ruined. The fact that this pathetic modern women “feels” like a victim is of infinitely less consequence than the complete wipe-out of Turner’s life.

Which leads me to a story in today’s San Francisco Chronicle, which interestingly enough again involves a so-called “rape” at Stanford. Here’s the premise, straight from the Chronicle:

After Stanford University concluded that one of its students sexually assaulted a classmate, campus officials imposed what they called a very serious sanction: a suspension of two academic quarters.

The victim said it felt like a second assault.

“Providing my rapist with a gracious invitation back to Stanford pending a brief period of ‘reflection’ disrespects myself and the moral stature of Stanford as an institution,” Sinéad Talley wrote on Dec. 20, 2016, in her unsuccessful appeal. She wanted Stanford to expel the man she said had been her friend until he raped her while she was in a drunken stupor.

Stanford reported the assault in 2016 to campus police, as required by state law. But Talley chose not to pursue the case through the criminal justice system. Instead, like many college students who report sexual assault, she turned to her university’s internal justice system.

Did you catch that carefully oblique reference to a “drunken stupor”? Was it his? Was it Talley’s? How stuporous was that person? Well, you have to read through paragraphs and paragraphs and paragraphs about how rapey Stanford is and how Talley suffered to get to the real story — which is that this young woman got drunk and has no idea what happened:

Rush week was in full force at Stanford in April 2014 when a friend of Talley’s accepted a bid from his favorite fraternity. He invited her to the celebration.

In a written account she gave to Stanford investigators, Talley said she felt exhausted on the night of the party and hadn’t been sleeping well or eating enough for some time. She had a few drinks at the party. Her next memory was waking up the next morning naked and sore, aware that the student was in her room, and aware when he “slipped out,” according to the account, a long letter she wrote to the student two years later detailing her experience.

“I didn’t report what you did,” Talley wrote. “I refused to acknowledge that it had been rape for weeks afterward.”

She blamed herself.

“I made excuses for you, convinced myself that I could have consented in my blacked-out state, cursed myself for binge drinking, questioned whether I had given you the wrong idea. I held onto that shame and guilt, as though it was ever mine to carry,” she wrote.

Then she learned something that changed her mind. The student had spread the news among their friends that they’d had a “hook-up,” Talley wrote.

She waited two years, then reported the assault to the university days before graduating in 2016.

Let me rephrase: Talley drank so much she blacked out; she then woke up in bed with her friend feeling trashy, which is entirely appropriate; two years later she heard that the friend said they “hooked-up,” which implies that he understood the sex to be consensual; and she got angry at him and cried “rape.” Except despite having an epiphany two years after the fact that she was “raped,” when all physical evidence is gone and her memory never existed, she doesn’t go to the police, which is the appropriate step for a vile crime but, instead whines to the man-hating Title IX campus authorities, only to be enraged that her case is so weak that even the Title IX vampires are unwilling completely to destroy a man’s life. I think that about sums it up.

To fully expose my anger at this type of man-hating woman, I think it’s worthwhile repeating Talley’s alleged original thoughts after her hook-up, thoughts that strike me as entirely correct: “I made excuses for you, convinced myself that I could have consented in my blacked-out state, cursed myself for binge drinking, questioned whether I had given you the wrong idea. I held onto that shame and guilt, as though it was ever mine to carry.”

First, Talley’s quite correct that she probably consented, but simply has no memory of doing so. That’s the whole problem with black-outs. In that regard, here’s an interesting story out of Australia:

*Woman charged over bizarre oral sex incident on Sydney train has ‘no memory’
*Chantell Gordon, 34, has been charged with willful and obscene exposure
*She allegedly masturbated on train carriage and performed oral sex on a man
*When approached on Monday, Gordon said ‘I can’t remember’ the incident

The woman charged over a bizarre oral sex incident with a man on a train claims she has ‘no memory’ of the sordid encounter, and says she is trying to turn her life around.

Chantell Gordon, 34, was charged with willful and obscene exposure and offensive behaviour in a public place after the alleged daylight romp in Wollongong, south of Sydney, on December 14.

Wollongong Local Court heard last week the public romp began when Gordon allegedly approached her co-accused, Shane Brennan, on the train platform and asked for sex.

Brennan, who was also charged over the incident, said he declined but claimed Gordon started masturbating on the train carriage. The father-of-three then said he allowed her to perform oral sex on him because ‘I can’t help myself’.

[snip]

When Daily Mail Australia approached Gordon on Monday for her side of the story, she admitted she has a problem with drugs, but flatly said ‘I can’t remember’ when the sex incident was put to her.

Gordon clearly has serious substance abuse issue, which makes her pathetic. My point in reciting the story isn’t to hammer Gordon but is to say that people under the influence engage in affirmative actions that they wouldn’t do if they were sober and that they may not remember later — but it doesn’t mean that, as to third parties, they weren’t manifesting showing consent (or even sexual aggression). On the flip side, I know a man who, when blind drunk, assaulted a 14-year-old and had no memory after the fact. The crime came to light later when the girl, who was sober at the time (of course) and had an intact memory, handed her soiled clothes over to authorities. She’d been so traumatized at the time that, rather than washing or tossing her clothes, she’d stuffed them in the back of her closet. He quite appropriately went to jail.

Second, getting back to Talley’s accurate enough assessment of her own conduct immediately after the event, she “cursed herself for binge drinking.” So you see, the Chronicles‘ discrete reference to a “drunken stupor” and Talley’s own narrative that she felt ill but had a “few drinks” at the party were red herrings. “Binge drinking” is a very specific activity, that involves getting blind drunk on a routine, albeit intermittent basis — as in partying to black out every weekend. This is was not a woman who was getting ill and who reacted badly to a beer. This was a woman who, by her own admission, drank to excess on a regular basis.

Third, what about Talley’s worry that she gave her “assaulter” the “wrong idea”? I’d say that it’s entirely possible that a woman who routinely got blind drunk and, in at least one instance, had no memory of events, did give her sexual partner the “wrong idea” by enthusiastically, or at least agreeably, engaging in sexual activity with him. The fact that she felt bad about it later is not his fault. The fact that he spoke of it later as a consensual hook-up in a day-and-age of hook-ups, as opposed to courtships and committed relationships, is not his fault.

Fourth, there’s something Talley doesn’t say about the trigger for her reporting the guy. The paper simply says she reported him before she graduated in Spring 2016. That same Spring, she was involved in a heated Facebook fight because she went completely ballistic over a photograph of a young woman who took a sexily posed photograph in a reconstructed Yurok Indian House at an open-to-the-public open air museum. You can read about it here, in Talley’s own exhausting, impenetrable, identity-politics, victim-centric, academic jargon. In other words, Talley wasn’t in a happy place when she decided to destroy a man.

At this point, putting aside Talley’s reasonable self-blame and her (to my mind) unreasonable decision to accuse someone of rape despite her failure to know the facts, one can still ask what if, maybe, just maybe, the guy did in fact rape Talley — that is, forcibly sexually penetrate her against her will or when she was manifestly unconscious? Bad as it is to say this, he still gets a pass because as even Stanford realized, Talley’s black-out left her without the ability to point to any criminal intent on his part — including, per California’s requirement, his knowledge that she was drunk — and her two-year delay meant that there was no physical evidence to corroborate her story.

Then there’s Talley’s refusal to report the alleged rape to the police. I suspect she didn’t because she knew there was no evidence of any actual, true, heinous crime. Talley, however, excuses her decision by blaming identity politics:

Talley said her experience as an American Indian influenced her decision to report the assault to the university instead of law enforcement. “As a Karuk person, I’ve seen a lot of police violence. I’ve seen the system fail, and I don’t have a lot of trust.”

This is an interesting point given that Talley may have admitted elsewhere that she’s got minimal Native American blood and had no connection to her tribal heritage when growing up. I say “may” because the article from which this quote is drawn is so confusingly written and formatted, I’m not certain it’s Talley speaking. However, it seems to be Talley’s voice because it’s the material in the article with quotation marks and it follows immediately after Talley’s photograph:

“It’s taken a long time for me to get outside of the blood quantum construct of thinking. I’m low blood quantum, and my family was disconnected for a while before we came back to the river. It’s been a returning process. Learning more about history and the fact that blood quantum is a European concept and that’s not how Native people determined who was a community member and who was not helped. When it comes down to it, blood quantum doesn’t mean anything. It’s your connection to place, it’s your kinship ties and how involved you are in the community. It has a lot to do with a lot of things, but indigeneity doesn’t have to do with blood quantum. You can know that and you can feel that, but they’re two different things. For me it’s taken a long time to feel that.”

It’s also unlikely that Talley’s Native American identity left her actually afraid to go to the police. Instead, I suspect her goal all along was to erase the bad feelings she had about herself over her bad conduct by getting the guy in trouble. Her problem was that she knew, based upon a complete lack of evidence that the sex was non-consensual, the police would laugh her out of the building. So she did what every self-respecting, binge-drinking, man-hating, hooking-up SJW does — she took the matter to the school’s Title IX committee, confident that the committee members would agree that an absence of any evidence of wrongdoing was insufficient when it came to destroying a young man’s life.

Thanks to California law, a person who claims to have been drunk and had sex has established a prima facie case that she (or he) was raped. Think about that: In California, stone-cold sober Highway Patrol officers who stop drivers must give them scientific breathalyzers tests or recognized field sobriety tests before concluding that they are intoxicated enough to have violated the law. Also in California, though, the ordinary layperson, even if he or she has also been drinking, is supposed to intuit the other party’s intoxication as a prelude to sex. Intuit wrong, and that person has a one-way ticket to prison:

In December 2016, a three-member hearing panel — chosen from a pool of faculty, staff and graduate students — concluded unanimously, as required, that Talley’s former friend had sexually assaulted her.

“The preponderance of the evidence indicates that (he) committed sexual assault by virtue of (her) state of incapacitation,” the panel wrote.

Talley asked that the student be expelled, noting that “since I was drunk, I could not give consent.”

In cases of intoxication, California criminal law says a rape has occurred if the person is prevented from resisting because he or she is drunk — and that the accused knew or reasonably should have known.

Stanford’s policy in 2014, the year of Talley’s assault, said that a person must consent to sexual intercourse — and that a drunk person cannot give consent.

The student argued in his written statement that he believed Talley had consented.

“Sadly, I was intoxicated, too, so my judgment was impaired,” he wrote in his defense. “I had no idea that she was in a blackout. … I thought I was having consensual sex.”

Even a Title IX committee at Stanford, though, seems to have some limits, which is why the young man, rather than having his life completely destroyed, had it only partially sundered:

The panel wrote: “We believe a reasonable, sober person would have recognized (Talley’s) incapacitation, her inability to understand the nature of the sexual situation, and thus her inability to give consent.”

The panel agreed the sexual assault occurred but that the student did not know she was intoxicated and decided that expelling him was “not appropriate.”

Instead, it imposed a two-quarter suspension, with training in consent and the effects of alcohol.

“It is our sincere hope that this very serious sanction will enable (him) to return to Stanford fully committed to maintaining the integrity and safety” of the community, the panel wrote.

The student’s suspension was to begin after he completed another suspension “currently in place,” according to the 2016 record.

You won’t be surprised that, even thought Stanford said the kid could come back, he didn’t. His name is mud at Stanford. (And believe me, even though proceedings were probably “anonymous” as to him, everyone at Stanford knows who he is.) There’s no future for him there. The question is whether there’s a future for him anywhere. I’m not excusing his stupidity in getting drunk and hooking up but, as with the Brock Turner case, she’s now positioning herself as a celebrated victim and he’s an evil pariah, despite their having engaged in identical conduct.

Unsatisfied with her Third-Wave Feminist vengeance on the man, Talley is now doing what Emma “Mattress Girl” Sulkowicz and Brock Turner’s accusers have done, which is to turn their hurt feelings into media-friendly performance art. These women are dangerous harpies. As I said earlier of Brock Turner’s accuser, I don’t care that they think they’ve been raped, which is definitely a psychic burden. They could have gone the empowered route of saying “I did something stupid, I learned from it, and I’m moving on.” Instead, they enveloped themselves in their Leftist victim mantle and set about destroying the man who was a partner in events they either willingly participated in (Sulkowicz) or willingly got drunk for. The real victims, therefore, are the men, who were as stupid and irresponsible as the women, but who get no fame, only blame.

Real rape is a criminal matter. Fake rape — and what we’re seeing here, insofar as the Chronicle report goes, is fake rape because there is zero evidence of real rape — is a cause that Third Wave feminist-run university administrations have taken up in their ongoing war against men.

For that reason, I have no sympathy for the bad press Stanford gets in the Chronicle article. In a sane world, parents reading it would say, “Hey, I can’t send my daughter to that hellhole that’s worse than a South African slum or Swedish suburb.” But the parents don’t think any such thing. They all know that these are lies and that their daughters are safe. It’s the parents of boys who are either in denial or who hope that it’s not their sons that get caught up in the net.

We need to take federal monies, all federal monies, out of higher education. That would solve a world of ills.

Phote credit: Screen grab from Sinead Talley’s website.

The Bookworm Beat 10/23/17 — the world is both sad and surreal edition

For a different perspective, today’s Bookworm Beat arrives at your computer thanks to Wolf Howling, who likes serious news with a touch of the surreal.

Arab construction worker writes “good morning” on FB in Arabic. Facebook auto translator translates it as “attack them.” Israeli police arrest him before noting the error.

The new CNN ad campaign that needs to be seen to be believed. Apparently they have discovered fraud in the fruit packing industry.

Inventor of sex robots plans to have little bots with his hottie.

The Canucks have nicely asked the USA to please help stop illegal border crossings into Canada.

3% growth? Ha! Venezuela’s socialist paradise is poised to grow their economy 2300% next year. Yet another triumph of socialism that the poor capitalist running dogs can only dream of.

Male “feminist writer” fired by GQ after woman accuses him of rape. Actually not too surreal if one realizes that “male feminists” such as this joker, Harvey, Bill, and Ted seem to think that if they mouth support then they are free to do as they will. And given that 3rd wave feminism has killed off the code of chivalry, women are now back in the “prey” position they occupied in the early medieval period and before. Isn’t the prog’s arc of history grand?

Heh. No sooner do I write the above than the Daily Beast offers “The Left Wing Heroes Who Treat Women Like Garbage.

Jimmy Carter, the man many credit as kick starting the NK nuke program by taking the matter out of the hands of then Pres. Clinton, is now offering to negotiate with NK on behalf of the US. Even more surreal is Jimmy Carter’s full throated defense of President Trump.

We learned a new word yesterday, “Procrustean,” meaning rigid uniformity denying human nature. What a perfect bookend to that newly acquired knowledge in this psychology experiment that claims you can change conservatives into proggies by making them feel safe (in the lab). You have to read the article to appreciate fully out how the “social scientists” accomplish this amazing feat. Briefly, they have self-identified, conservative-leaning people fantasize that they have super powers. Is there anyone on the left with enough self-awareness to understand the ramifications of that?

And on a very related note, the proggie left are going nuts with conspiracy theories . . . and yet, more science attacking mostly conservatives:

But as scientists report in a new paper published in the European Journal of Social Psychology, sometimes people sense danger even when there is no pattern to recognize — and so their brains create their own. This phenomenon, called illusory pattern perception, they write, is what drives people who believe in conspiracy theories, like climate change deniers, 9/11 truthers, and “Pizzagate”believers.

Climate change deniers are conspiracy theorists??? Bottom line, it is one thing to have a factual basis, a working hypothesis, and then a desire to determine whether there is in fact the connection between the dots suggested by the unexplained facts. It is another to claim “conspiracy theory” simply when you do not want to discuss the facts.

The only piece of good news that I could find that makes sense — a bit of crony capitalism that died under Trump.

An article only a word person would truly appreciate. The grammatic stylings of Boris Johnson

And lastly . . . the mystery of why Japanese women are not having sex with Japanese men explained:

Photo credit: Mai, howling, b&w, by Matt. Creative commons license; some rights reserved.

Dear Men, I truly love you, but I don’t necessarily trust you

There’s nothing wrong with acknowledging that even the best raised men have a natural predatory streak — and that women’s intentional conduct affects it.

I did not do the whole “me, too” thing. Aside from distrusting the reach of anything that originates on the Left (it will be used as a cudgel eventually), and finding it meaningless given its incoherent blending of everything from hardcore rape to undefined “harassment.” I also hated the whole “victim” aura that hangs about it. As I discussed in an earlier post, although a perv twerked me on a bus some decades ago, that was on him, not on me. Indeed, I had mostly forgot about that millisecond in time until this whole “me, too” thing came up.

Nowadays, were someone to twerk me in a public place, I would accidentally on purpose emasculate the person (and I mean that literally, not the way Joe Biden, a known perv, says “literally”), and try to get him arrested. Back in the day, though, I just shifted my position to get him away from me and that was the end of it. In retrospect, while I’m sorry I didn’t maim him, I have a vague memory that I might have been on my way to a hearing at the courthouse, which far outweighed any other considerations.

But back to the subject of men. That sleazy little blip in my life (and please understand that this was not a frightening experience that put me in fear for my life, nor was it an invasive experience) did not turn me off of men. I really like men.

I like the way men look, I like the way men feel (rough and scratchy, but nice and warm), I like their strength (which makes me feel protected as long as it’s not directed at me), and most of all I like the way I feel when I’m with men. When I say this, I’m not talking about sex. I’m perfectly happy at a party to talk to a fascinating man who finds me fascinating too. He’s exotic, because he’s not one of the girls (and I have a lot of female friends) and that very exotic quality, if he likes me, makes me feel pretty damn special.

My admiration for men does not begin and end with appreciating their physical merits or needing them to appreciate mine (along with my brain, of course; they must always appreciate my brain). I like men’s willingness to step up and protect women; I like their willingness to fight for what’s right; I like their uncomplicated friendships; I like their physicality; I like their different approach to issues, although sometimes they can irritate me precisely because they don’t think “like a girl.”

So please understand, when I launch into the second part of this post, that what I’m saying does not come from a misandrous place.

You see, dear men, much as I like you (and I really do like you), I don’t trust you. You’re kind of like my dog. I adore him and he adores me, but I never lose sight of the fact that he’s basically a predator. If he’s driven by fear or overwhelming instincts, he may not be my friend. When I kiss his little fuzzy face, I always keep my hands pressed on either side of his little head to ensure that he doesn’t suddenly go feral and decide to take a nibble at my nose.

Men are hard-wired to be sexual predators. Untamed men, or men reared in a fundamentally misogynistic culture, never rein in their predatory nature. The only brakes placed on them are (a) women removing themselves entirely from the company of those men who aren’t close family members and (b) the potential risk to an overly predatory man if the woman’s male family members feel that the woman has been dishonored. No matter how innocent the woman, she will be killed . . . but sometimes the man is too.

In our more civilized world, men are given the message that they may not use violence to initiate sex with women. Some still do — there will always be predators — but most won’t.

However, absent violence, even the best raised men will still seek sex. They’ll use everything in their armory that they think they can get away with. Charm is always nice. Alcohol is a great social lubricant. Non-threatening touches on arms, legs, and face can work (and we’re assuming here that the man does not intend to be crude or threatening). Risqué jokes might help tell if a woman is intrigued. Different men have different techniques but, other than those men who are asexual or who have locked their predatory nature away entirely out of respect for a monogamous relationship, they’re on the prowl.

The above is a biological reality. You can fill binders of Human Resource books with rules; you can deny men their civil rights in college; you can do whatever the heck you want . . . but men will still put out feelers for sex. It’s what they do. IT’S NORMAL. (See, that’s what the Left hates. It’s normal.)

To the extent it’s normal, normal women have a role in this sexual dance. For one thing, they can yield to a man’s verbal charm or his exploratory touches or his little jokes. They can flirt with him or they can jump into bed with him. Women can drink nothing, or just a little, or too much. Women can dress in a flattering way or in an openly sexual way. Women can hook up or walk away.

Biologically, men’s predatory nature is matched by women’s receptive nature — or, in a civilized world, which is mostly what America is, by a woman’s clear signals that she’s not receptive.

I always gave out those clear signals. To this day, when I walk down the street, I intentionally try to radiate “tough fighter,” rather than “weak,” or “maybe I’m interested if you’re come on is good enough,” or “I’m selling sex, big boy.” In my single days, at parties, I steered clear of drugs and alcohol. If the risqué jokes made me uncomfortable, I don’t laugh. And if someone tried to touch me and I didn’t like it, my body language was off-putting, to say the least. Indeed, if the rumors are true that there’s a lot of wife-swapping in Marin, to the extent no one has invited me, I’m going to assume my “do not touch me” signals are still on, loud and clear.

The above dance is normal — and in a civilized society, women have a role in maintaining that normality.

What is not normal is rape. What is not normal is unwelcome, deeply physical touches that fall short of technical rape. And what is not normal is when someone, whether a president or a producer, uses a significant imbalance in power to force a woman into a blatantly sexual situation that clearly offend or frighten her.

So guys, let me say again that I love you. I do. But I know what you are and I know that we’re always dancing. If you’re a decent guy, when you realize I’m not interested in the dance, you walk away. If you’re a predator, whether by nature or nurture, you don’t. As for me, I function on a trust, but verify system. Although I’m always nice, I assume all guys are predators and I shut down as many openings as possible without giving offense . . . unless, of course, I’m interested too.

Photo credit: Strictly,, by Simon Blackley. Creative Commons; some rights reserved.