Guest Post: An overdue rant on rats by a dude who has some shit to say   Leave a comment

(I’m way overdue to post this, also.)

An Overdue Rant on Rats by a Dude who has some Shit to Say – by Mark Wolfe

Ya know, I may have had some misogynistic behavior in my past, but it never once occurred to me…

not even in the secret-privacy of my own corroded mind
(where I come up with all my best bad ideas)

…did it cross my oddly shaped cranium to grab someone’s body or part thereof, without permission let alone kiss, hug, ass-grab, or otherwise grope someone who hadn’t expressed an interest in having me take such intimate measures

And then…

There are the Dick showers…

Those that show the dick without ANY invitation and not just as a dick selfie in the thralls of horny anonymity.

…but live & in person… signed 8x10s upon NO request…

I wouldn’t even do that if I was asked politely let alone in a flasher-y-fetish-y-fueled-fever.

Yet for the last couple of months, almost every single day, (and sometimes twice in a day), there comes a revelation from the interwebs & the squawk-box about some sorry-ass self-absorbed dipshit who did one or more of the above aforementioned selfishly egregious actions, much to the chagrin of said dipshit’s spouse, fans, constituents & co-workers.

Hens from the past come lookin’ for a place to rest their bony talons with a truth that is so undeniable, that it usually brings down illustrious careers (some not so illustrious) in a matter of hours.

Careers that until that fateful moment in their Emmy-winning-multi-platinum-excuse-for-coping-a-feel-or-propositioning-a-teenage-intern career… was years, if not decades in the making.

Some we like, some we never liked, some we admire and look up to, & some we always KNEW were freaky like that,

…but these indecent indictments always come with the well-deserved swiftness of a nor’easter, complete with appropriate wind-chill factors…. along with oh so brilliant bald-faced irony.

We know it when we hear it
when those secret chicks come home to roost.

You best have a fuckin’ umbrella to shield you from the inevitable chicken-shit storm that is sure to follow your chicken-shit ass.

I grew up instinctively knowing that at LEAST 3/4s of ALL the woman in my life that I ever knew, (or indeed ever would know) even if only as a classmate, coworker or neighborhood fixture, had suffered the unwanted attention of proprietarily problematic propositions, often accompanied by capricious hands…. greasy-grabby hands… that don’t even know how to grab right

…who do so much to grab so wrong.

It would not be much later in life, perhaps age 17, that I would come to the dreaded realization that more than half of those same women had suffered far, far worse.

Often so much further along the worse-path that she dares not give so much as a whisper of oxygen to verbally illustrate the horrible circumstances of that tragic personal history.

But It was with that awful statistical knowledge in mind that, much like my West Philly Street-School upbringing in the early 70s, is a lesson learned from a very early age, even before fully understanding the ramifications of that awful matriculation… Right between daily viewings of Mr. Rogers and the Highlights Magazine’s Goofus & Gallant cartoon of the month.

The women I’ve known from the worse-path that I would trade my life for don’t number in double digits. It is by extrapolation of definitively anecdotal evidence that I come by this thesis currently spewing from my laptop.

They never shared encounters within a window of time that I could possibly do anything about it.
(but please don’t assume I mean physical violence & don’t rule it out either bucko, I have a 1976 Phillies “bat-day” baseball bat that will go upside your rookie-ass-grab, dipshit, dope-addled-brain-shell that totally overcompensates for my 98-pound weakling arms attached to my 180lb, six-foot-one body).

…It became clear though, that despite the cobwebs on those confidential confessions, that the experience never left them as they continued to grow more complex cobwebs, and sprout mold on the north facing side of the worse-path.

NONE of these perpetrators of repellant passes & rape-y aggressions did anything that was logical or explainable to me.

Perhaps that is why such behavior is so alien to me?

Or perhaps I’m not a fuckin’ ass-grabbing, date-rape-with-nice-teeth, dipshit?

The difference between good behavior & bad should be taught in School starting in 1st grade, taken out of the context of any one gender or sexual identity. In fact, “sex” should never be mentioned in the same curriculum.

These valuable life lessons should be handed down from parents, relatives, teachers and responsible adults to children, youngsters, teens and young adults for as long as you have breath in your body or as long the child mooches your food from under your roof.

…So they don’t go to their first office job thinking it might be a thrill to grab a co-worker’s rear without even so much as a proper introduction or a good donut.

Back in my day when I was 5 & 6 years of age, the West Philly bullies of little Osage Avenue thought they were cool and never saw a problem with anything they did or said since there was never a responsible adult within earshot who had the balls to say or do anything. Oh, but we had plenty of teachers with selective hearing and sight loss in public school which only served to germinate a general feeling of helplessness and secrecy. No wonder many victims never report anything, it is instilled very early on that it is best to not complain or even THINK you have the right to personal space & respect, let alone justice & reciprocity.

The heinous behavior of some little Osage Ave Adults like ********** didn’t help set a positive example from the top down either. ( it was an oft-told tale that **** grew up with Bill Cosby – a tale that would never be featured on factcheck.org but was nonetheless taken as gospel all those many years ago by slack-jawed Fat Albert fans. A 70s era Saturday Morning show that all the kids in the hood never missed an episode of – plus we had all the Cosby albums in my house… kinda wishing now it was Carlin)

this is where I need to insert a caveat:

If you’re a healthy white male, the world is your oyster, but definitely not anyone else. although when I was younger I didn’t realize that being a white kid gave me a leg up because I certainly was never treated that way. It was only through observation of my Public School surroundings that it began to dawn on me much too late to overcome innate self-esteem issues, but perhaps if I had known early enough, I could have shuffled the deck a bit better. (but ass-grabbery & dick display is NOT in my DNA)

I guess the overtly belabored point I am winding my way around several prick-le bushes to get at is that we are all surrounded by scoundrels and psychopaths who lounge in the bright sunny daylight of normalcy and politically correct politeness.

Some of them are even really clever natural comedians who can make anyone laugh by just a few words.

They might even be a friend.

Why someone would even need to play with power dynamics or exhibitionism in such negative & destructive ways is a mystery to me, but …

Barring an actual shift in our irredeemable culture for the better…

They should all die in a fuckin’ fire 🔥

or… you could SAY SOMETHING guys…

If you allow outrageous, unacceptable behavior to go unchecked, then you’re complicit in whatever comes next…

(if Trump, the-man-not-the-brand, has taught us anything, he’s taught us THAT, for fuck’s sake… also, that the size of a man’s hands must undoubtedly lead to other, less visible anatomical anomalies… although who knows given his current Twitter Twattle )

…signed 8×10 dick selfies & Trumpian Ethics are just the beginning folks…

WAKE UP

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