Sep. 30th, 2009

eumelia: (Default)
Oh wait.

It really, really is not a fucking conundrum.

The man raped a child, plead guilty, then ran away because the sentencing was too harsh for him (U.S. Appellate Court! Hello!), not that I think there's anything to appeal, or condone or even sympathise with a criminal who decided to do a runner rather than serve the time given him for the crime he committed upon a 13 year old girl.

Is this getting into people's thick skulls?! Obviously not, seeing as there is a fucking petition (No! Tilda Swinton! Pedro Almodovar?!?! *weeps*... just a couple of names at first glance that popped out at me) calling for him to be let go and set free signed by a large amount of people, whose work I admire and inspire me. This is all so fucking Twilight Zone I'm having a hard time articulating it in a manner that doesn't include me tearing my hair out and run screaming through the streets like the "hysterical woman" that I am.

The man, drugged and raped a girl, is also an artist.

*crickets*

What? Is that so bloody hard to imagine? That people who create great things are also morally bankrupt and make no mistake, even if he personally feels guilty (but doesn't really want to sit in jail for it) he still raped a child.

It's really not that complicated. Either the rape of a child is punishable no matter who commits it, or those who are famous, wealthy and part of the artistic Elite are utterly exempt from the laws governing us lowly serfs.

An exaggeration? Please, this is once again a moment in history in which those who "Have" are entitled to get away with espousing the ugliest, most anti-social bullshit imaginable.

And for getting away with criminal behaviour, of course.

Obviously, this is no longer just about Polanski.
eumelia: (Default)
Don't let Roman Polanski evade justice and sign Art Does Not Excuse Rape.

Pass this along, re-tweet, make a post.

This whole story is beyond ridiculous and as I said before, this is not just about Polanski any more.
What this is tells young girls, young boys, everyone in fact, is that if you are rich enough, powerful enough and/or have enough friends in positions of power, your life and pain is basically worthless.

This is currently the kind of world we live in, in which rapists get to have apologists because they make beautiful and powerful things and tell us a compelling story... we have the responsibility make sure these story tellers do not get off scott free for committing crimes in which someone else's body, humanity and rights are trampled upon.

That's all.

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Eumelia

January 2020

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V and Justice

V: Ah, I was forgetting that we are not properly introduced. I do not have a name. You can call me V. Madam Justice...this is V. V... this is Madam Justice. hello, Madam Justice.

Justice: Good evening, V.

V: There. Now we know each other. Actually, I've been a fan of yours for quite some time. Oh, I know what you're thinking...

Justice: The poor boy has a crush on me...an adolescent fatuation.

V: I beg your pardon, Madam. It isn't like that at all. I've long admired you...albeit only from a distance. I used to stare at you from the streets below when I was a child. I'd say to my father, "Who is that lady?" And he'd say "That's Madam Justice." And I'd say "Isn't she pretty."

V: Please don't think it was merely physical. I know you're not that sort of girl. No, I loved you as a person. As an ideal.

Justice: What? V! For shame! You have betrayed me for some harlot, some vain and pouting hussy with painted lips and a knowing smile!

V: I, Madam? I beg to differ! It was your infidelity that drove me to her arms!

V: Ah-ha! That surprised you, didn't it? You thought I didn't know about your little fling. But I do. I know everything! Frankly, I wasn't surprised when I found out. You always did have an eye for a man in uniform.

Justice: Uniform? Why I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. It was always you, V. You were the only one...

V: Liar! Slut! Whore! Deny that you let him have his way with you, him with his armbands and jackboots!

V: Well? Cat got your tongue? I though as much.

V: Very well. So you stand revealed at last. you are no longer my justice. You are his justice now. You have bedded another.

Justice: Sob! Choke! Wh-who is she, V? What is her name?

V: Her name is Anarchy. And she has taught me more as a mistress than you ever did! She has taught me that justice is meaningless without freedom. She is honest. She makes no promises and breaks none. Unlike you, Jezebel. I used to wonder why you could never look me in the eye. Now I know. So good bye, dear lady. I would be saddened by our parting even now, save that you are no longer the woman I once loved.

*KABOOM!*

-"V for Vendetta"

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