Fear of the Dark

[Death]

It's that third rule that seems to be the one people have trouble with. Especially if there's someone else who can (presumably) take the responsibility.

Apparently, a rape victim is far more likely to get help, if she screams "FIRE!" rather than "RAPE!" Which is really appalling.

That is just fucking pathetic.

[BadBeast]

It's that third rule that seems to be the one people have trouble with. Especially if there's someone else who can (presumably) take the responsibility.

Apparently, a rape victim is far more likely to get help, if she screams "FIRE!" rather than "RAPE!" Which is really appalling.

That is just fucking pathetic.

It is isn't it?  It's from a 1980's New York Police "Keep safe" initiative, offering advice to women, as part of a drive to reduce sex crime. There was a whole lot of other stuff too, but that's the one that stuck in my mind. 

[Death]

It's that third rule that seems to be the one people have trouble with. Especially if there's someone else who can (presumably) take the responsibility.

Apparently, a rape victim is far more likely to get help, if she screams "FIRE!" rather than "RAPE!" Which is really appalling.

That is just fucking pathetic.

It is isn't it?  It's from a 1980's New York Police "Keep safe" initiative, offering advice to women, as part of a drive to reduce sex crime. There was a whole lot of other stuff too, but that's the one that stuck in my mind. 

I read a story once about three women who were roommates in an apartment.  There came a knock on the door and when one of them went downstairs to open it, two men proceeded to assault and rape her.  Her roommates heard her screams upstairs and called the police.  About 10 minutes later a police car patrols the area, without even coming up to the door.  They called again and a cop walked up to the door and knocked, receiving no answer he got in his car and left.  A while later the roommate stopped screaming, and so the two others presumably came downstairs, to find the men and the roommate still.  Turns out, the men kidnapped all three of the women and brutally raped and beat them for 20 more hours.  There were other people in the apartment building, and nothing was done to help.  ESPECIALLY by the cops.  This was in D.C. in the late 70s.

[BadBeast]

It's that third rule that seems to be the one people have trouble with. Especially if there's someone else who can (presumably) take the responsibility.

Apparently, a rape victim is far more likely to get help, if she screams "FIRE!" rather than "RAPE!" Which is really appalling.

That is just fucking pathetic.

It is isn't it?  It's from a 1980's New York Police "Keep safe" initiative, offering advice to women, as part of a drive to reduce sex crime. There was a whole lot of other stuff too, but that's the one that stuck in my mind. 

I read a story once about three women who were roommates in an apartment.  There came a knock on the door and when one of them went downstairs to open it, two men proceeded to assault and rape her.  Her roommates heard her screams upstairs and called the police.  About 10 minutes later a police car patrols the area, without even coming up to the door.  They called again and a cop walked up to the door and knocked, receiving no answer he got in his car and left.  A while later the roommate stopped screaming, and so the two others presumably came downstairs, to find the men and the roommate still.  Turns out, the men kidnapped all three of the women and brutally raped and beat them for 20 more hours.  There were other people in the apartment building, and nothing was done to help.  ESPECIALLY by the cops.  This was in D.C. in the late 70s.

Reading this left a cold hard lump in my guts. At first I thought it was shame. Then I thought some more. I  didn't do this. Couldn't do this. Neither was I there. So I didn't stand idly by. I don't think I could have. Not without watching every shred of humanity I had in me, wither and die. So it wasn't shame. Then I felt angry. But the anger was unfocused, too general, the anger of being impotent to do a fucking thing about it now, even if I could. The anger dies, even as I type this. But the lump is still there.
Horror? Yes, horror of course, but there are a thousand thousand other stories, as brutal and incomprehensible as this. To allow horror to set in, on top of this dead lump could mean the end of me. Of anyone.  But so could ignoring the feeling it leaves in me.
Because it's  not transitory, not just a stirred emotion, like you'd get at the end of a Movie.  What I'm feeling is Grief. Bereavement. Loss. Not my loss, or anyone's loss in particular.  Just loss. And Grief.
   But why?  Why this story? I could read about shit like this happening, all day, every day, and not be affected as much. Become more inured to it , if anything.
It's just one more example of stupid, senseless shit, that happened  over 30 years ago,  to no-one that I know, far away.  But that doesn't matter.  Not today.
    My Mother died six years ago today. I grieved, like anyone would grieve, and moved on, because that's what grieving is for. Moving on. You never get over grief like that, you just learn to live with it, and eventually it becomes part of who you are. Stops hurting,  just without losing it's quality of pain.
      But today is the day that I can feel any loss I care to focus on. Give it some proper consideration, instead of  just noting the event, and avoiding the feelings. And this is the event that got my consideration today. I didn't look for it. I'm not using it to project my own loss and pain onto. I'm just feeling it.
And you know what? Even though this story could break my fucking heart in two, It's still good to feel. When we lose the ability to feel, that's when we start to die ourselves. Little bit by little bit.
So thanks, Death, for helping me to focus a little better on this day.   

[Death]

It's that third rule that seems to be the one people have trouble with. Especially if there's someone else who can (presumably) take the responsibility.

Apparently, a rape victim is far more likely to get help, if she screams "FIRE!" rather than "RAPE!" Which is really appalling.

That is just fucking pathetic.

It is isn't it?  It's from a 1980's New York Police "Keep safe" initiative, offering advice to women, as part of a drive to reduce sex crime. There was a whole lot of other stuff too, but that's the one that stuck in my mind. 

I read a story once about three women who were roommates in an apartment.  There came a knock on the door and when one of them went downstairs to open it, two men proceeded to assault and rape her.  Her roommates heard her screams upstairs and called the police.  About 10 minutes later a police car patrols the area, without even coming up to the door.  They called again and a cop walked up to the door and knocked, receiving no answer he got in his car and left.  A while later the roommate stopped screaming, and so the two others presumably came downstairs, to find the men and the roommate still.  Turns out, the men kidnapped all three of the women and brutally raped and beat them for 20 more hours.  There were other people in the apartment building, and nothing was done to help.  ESPECIALLY by the cops.  This was in D.C. in the late 70s.

Reading this left a cold hard lump in my guts. At first I thought it was shame. Then I thought some more. I  didn't do this. Couldn't do this. Neither was I there. So I didn't stand idly by. I don't think I could have. Not without watching every shred of humanity I had in me, wither and die. So it wasn't shame. Then I felt angry. But the anger was unfocused, too general, the anger of being impotent to do a fucking thing about it now, even if I could. The anger dies, even as I type this. But the lump is still there.
Horror? Yes, horror of course, but there are a thousand thousand other stories, as brutal and incomprehensible as this. To allow horror to set in, on top of this dead lump could mean the end of me. Of anyone.  But so could ignoring the feeling it leaves in me.
Because it's  not transitory, not just a stirred emotion, like you'd get at the end of a Movie.  What I'm feeling is Grief. Bereavement. Loss. Not my loss, or anyone's loss in particular.  Just loss. And Grief.
   But why?  Why this story? I could read about shit like this happening, all day, every day, and not be affected as much. Become more inured to it , if anything.
It's just one more example of stupid, senseless shit, that happened  over 30 years ago,  to no-one that I know, far away.  But that doesn't matter.  Not today.
    My Mother died six years ago today. I grieved, like anyone would grieve, and moved on, because that's what grieving is for. Moving on. You never get over grief like that, you just learn to live with it, and eventually it becomes part of who you are. Stops hurting,  just without losing it's quality of pain.
      But today is the day that I can feel any loss I care to focus on. Give it some proper consideration, instead of  just noting the event, and avoiding the feelings. And this is the event that got my consideration today. I didn't look for it. I'm not using it to project my own loss and pain onto. I'm just feeling it.
And you know what? Even though this story could break my fucking heart in two, It's still good to feel. When we lose the ability to feel, that's when we start to die ourselves. Little bit by little bit.
So thanks, Death, for helping me to focus a little better on this day.   

I'm always glad to inspire serious feeling and thought.  Sometimes I wish I had that kind of reference to live with, the pain and all of that just to remind me that living is so important.  The pursuit of justice is SO, so important, at least to me.  Learning as much as I can, and keeping ignorance from creeping into myself and my surround.
I hope you can continue to weave emotion into life in a good way.

[BadBeast]

I found that the  older you get, the fewer anchors there are, that ground you, and hold you into life. But they're all much heavier and more secure than the one's from, say a decade ago. Which were less permanent, but equally necessary. And you don't really notice as they let go, one by one, until a really big fucker drops in to take up the slack.  Or at least, that's how I see it. Or how I see it  at the moment. Today. Tomorrow, it might all be fucking magnets. Or glue.

[Death]

I found that the  older you get, the fewer anchors there are, that ground you, and hold you into life. But they're all much heavier and more secure than the one's from, say a decade ago. Which were less permanent, but equally necessary. And you don't really notice as they let go, one by one, until a really big fucker drops in to take up the slack.  Or at least, that's how I see it. Or how I see it  at the moment. Today. Tomorrow, it might all be fucking magnets. Or glue.

I can comprehend it, but I'd have to be older to understand.  I don't really feel grounded, I sort of feel like I'm moving in fast forward.  I may be totally past the teenager part of my life in some ways, but in others I'm just as lonely and especially confused as the next.  Nothing is constant for me, and nothing is guaranteed for me.  I'm so excited for to learn and know and to FIND my anchors, but I don't want to pass anything up.  I don't like defining myself anymore because I'm so prone to change.  I feel a rant coming and I've known it was there for a while but I'm not up for it right now.

[Placid Dingo]

I... don't know where it can be found (and think search is borked), but could somebody link Death to the 'Jim, quick note of shackles, anchors and tethers' thread? Seems relevant.

[BadBeast]

Isn't this it?

[Triple Zero]

I... don't know where it can be found (and think search is borked), but could somebody link Death to the 'Jim, quick note of shackles, anchors and tethers' thread? Seems relevant.

Sounds like something that might have been posted in Think For Yourself.

[Placid Dingo]

http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php?topic=24191.0

Useful vocab set.

[Death]

http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php?topic=24191.0

Useful vocab set.

Thank yah.