A Tale of Blame.

I read one of Lynne Floto’s quotes from the list that she dis-

tributes to her high school students.

The quote seemed to follow the lines of: ‘asking her whether or not she was wearing a seat-belt is like asking a rape victim what she was wearing.’ The simile is of course null and void in terms of evaluative impact, and ironically in the absence of such an impact the objectivity of the analogy looms dubious as well. Either question would of course occur to me.

Along with many others? Why was she on the road? Why did she

seek out that peculiar path to walk down at night? Why did she do what she did, or, to put it an other way, have happen what she had? How did it occur to her? I love that idiom, for its meaning seems even more en-

ticing than the literal meaning. To say: It occurs to me, is to say: I recognise.

I THINK. I question.

But it is no surprise that a quote used by Lynne would repress what if not the ASKING of Questions.

In debate, my response would be:

So do you mean to suggest that the latter woman is just as responsible for HER tragedy as the former is responsible for hers? And when my opponent tries to insist that I had heard the meaning of the analogy in reverse, I would reply:

Does the one meaning not imply the other?

Sartre said that we are totally responsible for what happens to us.

So does yoga. I disagree, but with one qualification: Regret. Nothing is more beautiful than to gaze upon

Claire Boucher of Grimes and to say: All that has happened to this Goddess was her own doing.

For nothing do I hate more than the thought of a female victim.

I have come to the conclusion that Americans are those people who love to blame the Other. Why should I be afraid to ask what she was wearing? Would others not learn from her missed take? Or is prevention of secondary import to punishment? Why should I hesitate?

For fear of being labeled a rape apologist? So long as the Other – the rapist – is blamed, the ‘victim’ is not.

And so she is power-less.    Dm.A.A.