Guilt

So I've been thinking about the depraved minor celebrities that are currently in docks pretending that they didn't know what they were doing was rape, maybe because it was the seventies or something; then - on the motorway last night - I heard a Radio 1 report on sexual violence in contemporary gang culture, which made me feel sick. There is no excuse, if you were 5th in line in a gang bang and you didn't want to because the girl was already distraught but you had to because you're in the gang and you gotta keep up appearances, that's not good enough; if you fondled your way through a Top of the Pops audience because the era's idea of sexual assault differed to today's, well thank day's we're in the here and now and can tell you you're a lecherous old man that should be castrated for your indecencies.  The one legal defense would be if there was a gun to your head, as did seem the case in an example of boy-on-boy rape, both were victims there.  Listening to this show last night I'd have preferred to bury my head,  the channel would disclaim depictions of an unpleasant violent nature and I felt like I knew enough already - some of the excuses were new, but there were no sufficient excuses.   It left me distressed to be human, ashamed to be male.

But what can I do? I'm just [counts: one..,] one man.

Some years ago now I remember hearing stories from a friend, about her mother and about her best friend, that left me teary-eyed but ready to do something about sexual violence towards women, but knew not how to help; paranoid that I'd try and martyr myself and end up a laughing stock I did nothing - our friendship dissipated, and I distracted myself from the problem, as cowardly as the guilty.

Cowardice again, when a good friend discussed his ongoing court case involving two of his team mates and one loose woman - who allegedly 'played the rape-card' to keep her boyfriend from leaving her - I think at the time I wanted justice to be served, my heart definitely wanted my friend to be innocent. When he was cleared, I believe for a lack of incriminating evidence (ie. 3 against 1), I was happy to nod along and believe that the ruling represented the truth and my friend had nothing to apologise for.

Personally, after watching Richard Linklater's Tape, I spoke to an ex-lover about the time I took her - alleged (she had a propensity for bullshit) - virginity, asked her if she felt coerced into giving it up. As goes in the film, me and Robert Sean Leonard - that's right, Wilson! - were worried about nothing, both women in question shrugged off 'not getting full and clear verbal permission to land' as the youthful eagerness of adolescent boy's, and assured that them not saying yes did not mean they were quietly saying no, I felt relieved about something that honestly I don't think I'd have been accusing myself of had it not been for that flim. So the actual, personal guilt - on this topic, at least - is minimal; where I feel sickly and dirty is adopted on behalf of my neanderthal gender en masse.

During this radio show last night one of the musical interludes was Lana Del Rey's Born to Die, ironic on a show that touched on the sexual objectification of women because her's is a career so much defined by conforming to the aestehtic-demands of contemporary pop music. Lana might not be as pliable a puppet as Miley or Britney, but do you think any record exec would of gone along with all that melancholy if they didn't have gratuitous lines about the taste of Miss Del Rey's pussy to reel in the less socially-conscious listener. Tethered to the point that her career only took off after she got some blowjob-lips, I don't think Lana would have got as far growing out her armpit hair or fronting a femme-punk band. 

My button's a big Gaga fan, and demonstrated with lyrics how she is, while perhaps not every feminist's choice-feminist, trying to make a positive impact with empowering lyrics, topics of sex and sexuality meant to make young listeners aware that anything they might want to do is up to them and no one else. But the politics don't have major-label money pumped into them, I foresee no lecture-circuit, and I don't believe this global star would have been given the support she has been were it not for her lyrics being as sexually-provocative as they are thought-provoking.

I'm comfortable, at least, with my own awareness of the wrongfulness and the sin of all this rape and misogyny; I may not do a great deal to end it, but - through awareness and getting on my high horse whenever I can - I certainly won't perpetuate the problem. Not like pop music does, not like 'lad' culture and banter and binge drinking does. The crime's of man do make me see the attraction of tyrannical power-holding though, purging all the rapey manly-men might not prove a smart military tactic, but to hell I'll purge them anyway - theoretical bastards.