This piece by Mo demonstrates just how far we've come as women in our society. When in live dialogue with Naomi Wolf this young journalist casually dismissed her own rape and said 'Should we go around and round up all these creepy guys?' to which Wolf replied, 'No, they're criminal guys.'
The hypersexual culture and the non-victim cult vibe sweeping through young women today is eliminating common sense from the dialogue.
If you're a victim, you're weak. If you can't get over your rape, you're weak. Doesn't that sound like the patriarchy we are all too familiar with?
Whatever transpired in Suite 2806 of the Midtown Sofitel early Saturday afternoon, it seems clearer with each passing hour that being accused of sexual assault is far from a “Black Swan” event in the life of DSK. In 2007, the journalist Tristane Banon told a TV talk show host he had wrestled her to the ground and torn off her clothes during an interview a few years earlier; the talk show host in turn allowed that he knew “fourteen” separate women with similar tales. DSK’s name was eventually edited out of the broadcast for largely legal reasons, but it surfaced the next year when the IMF was forced to launch an investigation into his affair with a subordinate.
This week brought a startlingly different narrative of that liason: Nagy’s, as told in a 2008 letter to IMF lawyers in which she described her old boss as a ruthless predator who briefly got in her pants via a combination of relentlessness and brazen abuse of power. “I felt I was ‘damned if I did and damned if I didn’t’,” she wrote, describing him as “a man with a problem that may make him ill-equipped to lead an institution where women work under his command.”
If I were an economist, I could design a theoretical model to plot the self-perpetuating feedback loop mechanism by which the ever-expanding concentration of wealth and power within the global financial elite perpetuates and intensifies the marginalization of women by some function of corporate profit growth, global capital flows and the spot price of an average evening’s bottle service at a trendy West Village nightclub.
But I’m a woman, and no one would listen anyway.
