Earlier today, I made a comment that we all should ignore Tucker Max and the movie adaption of his book, I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell.
The very spot-on Whet Moser corrected me over Twitter, as soon as I said it, and he backed his reasoning with this post:
You all should read it right now.
And after I finished reading it, I realized what a horrible, stupid, unreasoned response I made, thinking that the right response to misogyny is to be quiet and hope it goes away. It doesn’t and it never has and it never will. I have known that since I was a teenager, and discovered feminism, and identified as such.
I was raped in college. I’ve mentioned it before, though I don’t talk about it much these days. It was a long time ago, and I’ve gone though counseling, not to mention gone through all of the feelings one has when experiencing something as horrific as rape. I will tell you that I blamed myself, that I tried to pretend it wasn’t rape, that it didn’t matter. But the thing is? It did matter. I am a child of God, and I believe that with all of my heart and soul. Being raped during my sophomore year caused me to question my worth as a person, for far too long.
The very notion that I should just shut up and say nothing and be quiet about a movie that glamorizes the sort of behavior that caused me to doubt myself, to begrudge me of my own worth, is deplorable and I should be utterly ashamed of myself. Too many women are raped and spat upon by men who don’t respect them, don’t see them as human beings and instead of saying nothing, we need to scream from the top of our lungs.
People who think Tucker Max is funny? Plain and simple, you ought to be ashamed of yourselves. Especially you women. There was a woman who lived here in Chicago, who slept with Tucker Max, who fancied herself quite the sexual progressive. Sadly, she just came off of as vapid, insecure and sad, as though sleeping with someone like Tucker Max validated that progressiveness. I don’t feel sorry or pity for women as a rule, because it seems so passive-aggressive to me, but I felt sadness and pity for that woman.
Several weeks ago, my husband fielded a phone call from Tucker Max’s publicist, asking for coverage on Playboy.com. My husband, ever-the-feminist, explained that he would do no such thing, and it was solely because Tucker Max shows such utter contempt and hatred for women, he wouldn’t be party to helping him and his movie. His publicist, of course, said something to the effect of Tucker Max loving women, because he’s slept with so many of them, to which my husband bid the publicist good day.
I could not have been prouder.
Not all men who appreciate a woman’s naked state are assholes, and not all women who are sexually progressive are pitiful. But when good people do nothing, evil happens. Tucker Max is evil, and contributes nothing to substance to our society. And it’s up to everyone to make clear the difference between the two.
I was raped because no one made it impossible for the idiot who raped me to think that what he was doing was anything other than an evil, violent crime against another person. He was part of a culture that made it OK to treat me like less than a human being. I can’t pretend that’s OK. Not now, not ever.
NOTE TO TUCKER MAX’S MINIONS: You’re starting to creep up around here, like so much fungi, and if you had anything intelligent to offer to the discussion, I’d OK your comments, but arguments such as “Rape victims support Tucker Max” aren’t particularly enlightening. Plus, not a one of you seems to be able to put together an articulate, properly punctuated sentence. I’ve had a long-standing policy of deleting comments riddled with douchebaggery, and I’m certainly not making an exception for you people.