The Duggars Are Rape Apologists

During the Fox News interview on June 3rd, JimBob and Michelle Duggar came up with the following conclusions, which I shall paraphrase for them:

• Josh mostly touched the girls over their clothes
• When he did touch the girls under their clothes, it was only for a few seconds
• The girls were asleep at the time of the touchings and were unaware of the goings on
• Josh personally and un-prodded-ly confessed to his parents
• He had tears
• Jesus forgives

Let's leave off the 'Jesus forgives' conclusion in my assessment of this treatment of sexual abuse. I've already spoken at length about the theology of "ignore my crimes, God forgave me" that the Duggars espouse so well. Instead, let's imagine something:

It's a cold and rainy evening on the long slog back to my college dorm. I have a very beautiful girl on my arm, who turns on every light bulb in me, including my non-existent soul. As we walk, I can smell the shampoo she used a few days prior, to wash her hair, mixed with the deliciously pungent scent of sebum oil.

I breathe deeply, wrapping my arm around her a little tighter. She sighs and we continue to awkwardly stumble home.

We pass her dorm. She makes no motion to turn and walk up the steps, but instead, gives me a knowing glance, the moon lighting up the features of her stunning face, revealing her lips, slightly parted, her breath panting through them.

As my heart begins to race, I try not to quicken my pace, knowing full well what she seems to be desiring and wanting to finally experience this woman, in her full naked glory, expressing our love together for an entire night.

After what seems like an eternity, we arrive at my dorm room, open the door, and immediately fall onto my bed, kissing deeply and passionately, grasping aimlessly at each other's clothed bodies.

As I make a move to slowly slide my fingers beneath the front hem of her panties, while at the same moment, allowing my lips to brush the nape of her neck, she murmurs ever so softly, "Let's sleep, wrapped in each other's arms."

I kiss her on her forehead and whisper back, "As you wish," and move down to her feet to lovingly remove her shoes and socks. Then, pulling the blankets over us, we do as she desires, which, funny enough, as do I.

According to the Duggars' rules, there is nothing wrong with me hopping out of that bed, handing her a drink with a rape drug in it, then having my way with her - only for a few seconds - and tearfully admitting to it in the morning.

After all, Jesus will have forgiven me.

Yesterday, I Didn't Rape Anyone

I work at a campus of a large enterprise company. Every few hours, I like to take a break, bounding down four floors of stairs and walking the hallways of the lowest floor, then running back up those stairs, and ending up at my desk, panting wildly, but trying my best to act as if I'm hardly even winded.

As I take my usual strolls, I pass plenty of people. I also pass dark hallways and rooms, where, if I wanted to get lost, I could hide for quite a while. I also pass by quite a few beautiful women. And every single woman I pass (as well as men), I nod, sometimes acknowledging them with my voice. I love the fact that I work in a sea of humanity.

But, to this day, I haven't grabbed a woman, dragged her into a dark room, and raped her. What's surprising about this admission, is that I'm an atheist.

According to Ray Comfort, aka, Banana Man, during a "debate" with Matt Dillahunty, he began to list a large number of what his god considers to be sins. Amongst these sins, Ray listed 'rape'. His point was simple: The only reason an atheist refuses to acknowledge the existence of God was because he wants to continue doing what he wants - including rape. But, even worse, Comfort insisted that atheists view rape as a good thing, whereas God treats it as sin (a bad thing).

Essentially, without God, there is no reason not to rape a woman. Or, said a different way, the only reason one human being refuses to rape another human being is because there's a big fairy in the sky, holding a lightning bolt - no wait...that's Zeus...because God threatens hell fire for doing so.

This idea is echoed in  many of the loudest halls of Christianity. But it got me thinking. I wanted to figure out why, as a bloody atheist, I have yet to rape a woman. I mean, after all, I find the idea of a god to be laughable at best, full of ignorance at worst, thus opening me up to throwing all threats of divine punishment to the wind, and enjoying everything - because without God, even rape is perfectly permissible.

As I considered my lack of sinful enjoyments, I came up with the following list of very real reasons why I didn't rape anyone yesterday - or any day, for that matter:

1. I didn't want to

For some odd reason, I love it when I am in a relationship with a woman and she enjoys being in that relationship with me. Where there is love and a true "connection" with each other. That just isn't possible when I drag an unwilling subject by her hair, into my lair, and have my way with her. The idea simply doesn't even appeal to me. I shudder at the thought of a woman's fear, her tears, her screaming, her unwillingness. By gosh, I kinda want her to like me.

2. When I look at a woman, I'm not thinking only about sex (maybe not even at all)

Sure. I like sex. If you've read this blog long enough, you understand that about me. To me, it's the most meaningful connection I can have with a woman, within a loving relationship. I need to be touched and to touch. I need to know that I affect a woman in the most base of animalistic ways, causing her to desire me with abandon throughout her day, even when I'm not around.

But that's my sex life. It doesn't even begin to describe what a woman means to me. Being a software engineer, I can say, unequivocally, that no software department is worth a penny. without women on the team. The greatest single achievement our culture can do in this generation and the next, is to cultivate the minds and hearts of our female youth, to follow their hearts into the STEM fields. Personal experience. I will never back down from that.

But forgetting their gender for the moment, every human being is a ball of emotions, talents, desires, goals, and enough potential to put me to shame, every day and twice on Sunday. When I look at a woman, the first thing I think is, "I'd love to know what she does for a living!"

3. I didn't have a woman's consent

This is probably the most important reason. And it's a reason that the Christian theology of, "Without God, all things are permissible," brushes off with a shoulder shrug. Ray Comfort and his friends do not understand that there is a very human reason that prevents the vast majority of all humans from sexually violating their fellow humans - that the woman didn't say yes.

It's really that simple.

I don't need to fear some unseen being to stop me from looking at a woman that I'm sexually attracted to and, without her consent, rip her clothes off and violate her. I have zero desire to do anything so vile. 

4. The Golden Rule is actually kinda cool

I wouldn't want anyone raping me. Why would I do the same to them?

That's pretty much all the reasons I can think of, at the moment. But, look through them again and try and notice something. Do you see it? I'm sure you do - because it's bloody obvious:

Not one of those four reasons have anything to do with fear of consequences. 

Yep. Sure, I know that I would go to prison for a very long time, if I ever raped someone. Sure, I know that I would be reviled by most of the world. I would lose my friends and family. I would lose my job. In fact, not only would I lose my job, but I would never be able to walk into an interview and easily get another job - ever. I would be restricted to where I could live. I could never go near a school. A library. A sports stadium. Anywhere where I would come in contact with another human being, I would have the scarlet letter, "Sex Offender," on my record. My life would be over.

But those reasons don't even cross my mind. I am not prevented from raping a woman because of what may happen to me, when and if I get caught. Rather, I am prevented from raping a woman because the woman did not agree to be raped - and that matters very much to me.

And there you have the morality - yea...the superior morality - of those that do not not rape, because some god is looking down on them, wagging its finger, saying, "Nuh uh uh!!" And guess what, Ray Comfort, et al, I dare say, if you were honest with yourself, your reasons for not raping would line up pretty evenly with mine.

Grace Driscoll Does Not Masturbate

Strawberry Boy reveals it in his epic chapter on masturbation in the booklet, Porn Again Christian.

Mark Driscoll, a man obsessed by sex, and even more so, by gay sex, and even more passionately, obsessed by proper sexual activity, writes:

First, masturbation can be a form of homosexuality because it is a sexual act that does not involve a woman. If a man were to masturbate while engaged in other forms of sexual intimacy with his wife then he would not be doing so in a homosexual way. However, any man who does so without his wife in the room is bordering on homosexuality activity, particularly if he's watching himself in a mirror and being turned on by his own male body.

What?  If Mark is such an expert on anything that smells sexual, he should really know better.  If a woman is masturbating, well..., a woman is most definitely involved.  Oddly enough, further up in this laughable chapter, Strawberry Boy even acknowledges that women do masturbate but quickly adds that men do it more, subsequently dismissing the notion, at all.

Boy is Mark missing out.  I won't elaborate on what I mean by that.  But try it any way you want and you'll be glad you did.  Just don't do it with Monty Python swimming (pun intended) through your head.

Every sperm is saaaaaacred, every sperm is greeeeeat.  If a sperm is waaaaasted, god gets quite iraaate!

Now that that song is stuck in your head...

Mark goes on to say that the Bible doesn't specifically condemn masturbation and yet, it really does in a roundabout way.  But before he goes on to explain those creative references, he wants to save his guilty pleasure from being "Bobitted" (youch!  that hurt!) by claiming, in record time (yes, I could actually see the smoke trailing off the quickly written ink of these words, into the yonder reaches of the cyberworld), the following:

What I am not counting as masturbation is the manual stimulation between married people whereby a husband and wife enjoy pleasuring one another's genitals, as taught in the Scriptures, either orally (Song 2:3; 4:12) or with their hands (Song 2:6).

He HAS to keep his one tool for masturbation available - his wife's hand!  But, alas, Song of Solomon says nothing about pleasuring genitalia with feet, knees, elbows, nose, maybe a little usage of a few chompers, or even the ever-popular "Rabbit".  Sadly, Solomon had no rechargeable batteries to use, let alone un-rippable rubber (trust me...that rubber on that fine piece of machinery that opens doors to new sexual realms DOES. NOT. TEAR!).  Curse those lousy scriptures that are silent as to various body parts and toys!

Then, as he promised, Strawberry Boy takes us through a list of questions, with added scripture references to guilt us into not wanting to masturbate.  Let me take his test and see how spiritual I am.

1. Can you masturbate without lusting? - Job 31:1 - "I made a covenant with my eyes, how then could I gaze at a virgin?"

Well...yes!  I can masturbate without lusting.  And then....no.  I can't.  But sometimes I can.  And damn....sometimes I do it when my wife is away and all I can think of is her.  Maybe that's okay and all godly and stuff!?  But then, I think of Job's question and I think, "You dumbass!  With your eyes, brotha!"  Then I think of other questions like, can I have sex without lusting, can I walk past a restaurant without lusting, can I lust without lusting, can I lust about lust without lusting.  I get all twirled up in my head and come to, grasping my....oh...let's move on.

2. Can you masturbate in a way that builds oneness with your spouse, pulling you together more intimately through the act? - Genesis 2:24 - "A man shall leave his father and mother and cleave to his wife and they shall be one flesh."

Whoa.  Wait up here, young sir Mark.  That's kind of a creepy reference to use here.  So...what you're saying is, prior to gettin' jiggy wif it with my bride, my mama and papa were supposed to assist me in pleasuring myself?  That scripture reference makes no sense at all.  But, I digress.  I'll answer the question.  Yes.

But I have a small problem with the way the question is formed.  I imagine myself, laying on my large bed, my wife on the far side, both of us pleasuring ourselves.  Then, as you, Sir Driscoll, so eloquently state, she turns to her side, grabs my unit, and pulls me over to her.  Not that I want to be all up in your business, Mark, but....DAMN!  That hurts!

3.  Can you masturbate without experiencing shame? - Genesis 2:24.

I read and reread that scripture reference a billion times and I still can't, for the life of me, figure out how it pertains to the question.  But yes, I can!  I used to experience shame, when it was beaten into my head by religious people that what I was doing was sinful.  But then, so was talking to a girl.  So was tapping a rock beat on the table.  So was interrupting my mother.  So was not tithing.  So many things that, today, as I look back, were stupid little rules to keep you in line, are normal, pleasant, and contribute to everyday happiness.  Why focus so much on anything sexual.  It's a small and yet very large part of life.  But seriously, so insignificant.  It doesn't need so many words to pillory it.

4. Can you masturbate with a clear conscience? - Titus 1:15 - "To the pure, all things are pure, but to the defiled and unbelieving, nothing is pure; but both their minds and their consciences are defiled."

Um...that reference is talking about EVERYTHING in life.  If you have an impure mind, even sex with your wife is impure.  So, who cares.  I don't want to answer this question because Jim Carrey does it so well.  Start watching at 5:30.  Apparently, Driscoll has never had a mind-blowing orgasm.

I could go on and deal with the fifth question.  But it's really just more of the same.  Mark Driscoll has decided that masturbation is bad and then went through the Bible to prove his point, trying very very hard to inject his ideas into the text where it simply doesn't fit - or rather, makes him look like a fool.  It's called prooftexting.

I won't pretend to be writing off his analysis based on his incorrect reading of the Bible, because I don't really care what the Bible says about sex - or sin, for that matter.  No book that tells me not to murder and then its god tells his people to murder whole nations, right down to the children, kidnap and rape women, and then sets up rules for proper slavery is ever going to to get close to my penis.  I might find a verse that tells me to cut it off and have to follow it.  Oh wait!

If your [penis] causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away.  It is better to lose one member of your body than to have your whole body thrown into hell. - Matthew 5:29

OUCH!

Come join me where sexual activity is free and enjoyable.  You don't need a stone age or bronze age or pro-raping women age book telling you how.  Clearly it has no clue.

Response to Todd Akin

Full disclosure.  I hate abortion.  I will never get one.  I'm a man.  I'm married to a woman.  She hates abortion and says she will never get one.  I was snipped a year or so ago, so it isn't a concern with us.  We have daughters.  We (I, more than my wife) want the option open in case of rape or health of the mother.  Really, I am against the whole notion of outlawing abortion.  I don't like the politics around it.  It's all about controlling another person's life, mostly for religious reasons.

But I don't like writing about abortion.  I don't really care about it.  I like to write about women.  And Missouri Senate candidate Todd Akin has riled my feathers.

First of all, as everyone who watches or reads the news now knows, Akin claimed that women can have two types of rape - legitimate and illegitimate.  He didn't specifically state that, but he did specifically say "legitimate rape", which leads anyone to conclude the dichotomous "other".

He then goes on to say that a woman that is legitimately raped has certain bodily mechanisms that naturally abort the baby or prevent a woman from even getting pregnant at all.  While this may be true (no study has shown this to be the case yet), it is actually quite a meaningless position to hold.  It makes no difference.  In fact, it muddies the waters and even sets a dangerous precedence.

Let's say a woman is raped and gets pregnant.  If we listen to Akin, we can assume two things:

1. The rape was not a legitimate rape and she willingly allowed it to happen, thus causing her body's natural aborting abilities to not work their magic.  She must have the child.


2. She deserves the baby because God's natural plan was that she must carry the vile sperm to fruition.  She must have the child.


The problem goes even deeper.  As much as Akin may say he cares for life, he really doesn't give a flying crap about women or children after they're born.  Look at his other policies that he supports, being on the GOP ticket.  If that woman's baby, that he forced her to have, does come to full term, he is perfectly willing to deny that woman and the child the services necessary in life, provided by a far-reaching and capable national and state government.  No, they must strike out on their own and live a life with no assistance in the GOP utopia.

"But, by GOD!  We'll never let them choose to NOT have a child!  They HAVE to have the baby and then enjoy the consequences of their decisions!"

But wait...the woman didn't decide to get raped.  She just got raped.  Oh wait...oops.  Do you see it now?  Their body didn't abort the child so the physiological decision was decided FOR her and she now has to live with her "decision".

I hope Todd Akin loses.  We don't need his kind in government.  We need people who care for people - all people.

The Story of Liz Franklin, Installment 5 - Spiritual Abuse Turns Sexual

Hearken back to Installment 4.  There, you'll read about Liz's attempts to become the most holy little girl on the face of the earth.  The only problem with that ideal was that everyone around her kept convincing her that she was worthless and sinful beyond all reason.  This led her to work harder toward perfection, wrapping herself in a prison of rules.  There was no joy left.

We left off with a small view of a camp meeting.  Let's look into that a bit deeper.

*****

There were three camp meeting sessions during the summer months: business meetings, in which rules were set, in June, youth camp in July, and family camp in August.  Those were times of great and intense spiritual battles for everyone, which is to say being told how scummy we were, and how hot hell is for those "not willing".  Spiritual battles became 1000 times more intense in the company of thousands of saints than in the quiet church at home where the attendance was about 20.  I looked forward to these every year.  I don't know why I never caught on that it wasn't working for me.  No matter how scared I got, I just couldn't be willing.  Even in the midst of thousands of saints, and hundreds of sinners, I became known. Being the only one at that infernal altar all the time will do that for a person.  It was here that I became enslaved to another rule (looking back, this embarrasses me so much). 

One thing the church wanted was testimonies.  You had to get up and share what god had done for you.  That was relatively easy at home in front of 20 people.  But here, people got up and testified. Shoot, people ran screaming around the tabernacle.  And god began to require it of me.  Or someone began to require it of me.  Do you have any idea how scary it was to stand up in front of thousands of people and talk about how unworthy I was, but how grateful I was that god hadn't struck me dead?  And then!, I thought, if testifying was good, walking (never could run) around the tabernacle had to be better.  I thought if I did the stuff that was hard for me, god would see that I was indeed willing for my will to be broken. 

Just like that, testifying became something I had to do if I wanted victory.  I testified EVERYWHERE.  At first, I let other people open the floor to testimonies; then I began to think I needed to be willing to do the opening.  So I did. Every where.  Every service, even when it wasn't appropriate.  I completely humiliated myself in front of I don't even know how many people to show god that I was willing to die to myself.  I only succeeded in making myself the object of scorn and pity.  Even that wasn't enough to balance the scales in my favor.

By now, I was an older teenager.  My life had been hell, but apparently not hell enough.  After having gone to the altar without success more often than I changed socks, the pastor and his wife decided it was time to get serious.  'Cuz up til now, I'd been having a ball.  So we talked one night at church, and it was decided I had demons. 

Now, demons were just not talked about in that church.  Ever.  So this was a serious charge they were leveling.  And, understand, outwardly, as far as they could tell, I was toeing the party line.  I wasn't any different outwardly than anyone in the church. The only reason they knew there was a problem was my frequent trips to the altar.  By this time, though, I'd given up.  I'd made myself miserable, demanded the impossible, denied every single thing that made me me, made myself sick, even trying to break my will enough to be worthy of god.  It was when I quit going to the altar that they decided I had demons.  So, plans were made to pray with me at home.  At first, it was the pastor and his wife.  We spent time reading about hell, and the need to repent, and be willing.  If I wasn't willing, god would have to break me.  By this time, I didn't think there was much left to break, but that didn't matter much. 

Prayer was not the only thing happening during these meetings.  Somehow, someone figured that raping me would drive them out.  When the meetings were with the pastor and his wife, she'd observe, clapping her hands and rhythmically chant "Drive them out!  Drive them out!"

When another board member was introduced into the meetings, he also took part in this new "ministry". The tone ranged from angry and painful to jovial and painful.  During the angry part, they listed my sins, in time to what they were doing.  I was sinful.  I had the spirit of rebellion.  I was scum.  I deserved this because I was making them do this to me.  I was responsible for them sinning.  I was in direct cahoots with the devil.  Maybe I WAS the devil.

After they wore themselves out being angry, they'd take a break, and when they came back, that was when it turned jovial.  Now, in time with what they were doing, they chanted, "Bang the devil OUT, bang the devil OUT", the whole time laughing at me, at their ability to have their way with a child who could not, would not, complain to any one or fight back.

Looking back, I know the whole demon thing was a sham.  They simply used what was available to them to excuse what they wanted to do.  At the time, I thought this was something I had to endure as a punishment for being so bad in god's eyes.  I was just that bad.  I deserved this.  god had made me good and pure and whole, and look what I had done with that.  I was hopeless.

*****

Yes.  I know.  Horrible.  I wept when I read it.  How could authority figures be so cruel to a child, using religion to further their sick desires?  But this wasn't the end of Liz's existence.  She kept pressing on, trying to find an answer to life.  Maybe Christian college?  We'll look at that chapter in Installment 6.

The Penn State Fiasco: My View

Let me preface this by saying that I don't know all of the facts.  I wasn't there.  I am relying on news reports and reports on legal proceedings from hearings in 2002.  I do not know Mike McQueary, Jerry Sandusky, nor do I know Joe Paterno.  Regardless, I will voice my opinion as a father of boys and as a citizen of humankind.

The main story here is that Mike McQueary walked into a locker room shower, heard slapping noises, and stated that he saw Jerry Sandusky forcibly sexually violating a 10-year old boy.  According to 2002 testimony, Mike was distraught and called his father.  His father told him to come and see him.  The next day, he went to Joe Paterno who told him to let him deal with it.  Then Joe Paterno went to his superiors and it pretty much died there.

Why did Mike not call the police right away?  Sure, that question has been asked and Mike has tried to do some damage control after receiving multiple death threats.  He now says that he jumped in to stop the rape and then contacted police.  What he fails to give us is a timeline of when he allegedly contacted the police.  There isn't a record of him doing so immediately after the incident - the right time to do so.

But, all that aside, Mike worked on the sidelines right alongside Jerry Sandusky, following this incident FOR YEARS!  According to all the reports, Jerry Sandusky went right on raping boys in the showers and there never is any mention of tension between the two coaches.  Not to mention, Jerry Sandusky was widely considered to be the most obvious choice to succeed Paterno, meaning, the football program showed complete disregard for any wrongdoing.

How is this even possible?  If you, as a young man of 28 years (Mike, in 2002), witness something as vile and disgusting as Mike did, and as he stated, necessitated quick and tough decisions during the 30 - 45 seconds of realization of what was happening, how can you go years, closely working with this person as a colleague, knowing that the said colleague still had complete and unfettered access to the same facilities with the same boys?  How is that possible?

What would drive a man to do this?  Was his job worth more to him than doing what was right?  Did he want the coaching job for Penn State?  For another school?  Was Mike so worried about upsetting the vegetable cart that even a raping of a young man was acceptable in order to climb the ladder the right way?

As a father of young boys, no amount of explanation would give me reason to empathize with Mike if the violated boy was my son.  I wouldn't be able to.  I would expect that my son, being assisted by a charity, run by people that I implicitly trust, would be helped by those same individuals, blowing the whistle if he were being abused.  Everyone that could have done something good here failed.  It all started with Mike.

Then there is Mike's dad.  What did he say to Mike?  Why didn't he call police?  Why didn't he tell Mike to call police?  Did he counsel Mike to go to Joe Paterno instead of the proper authorities?  Was this father so invested in his son's coaching career that he counseled his son to do what he could to deflect the report?  Worse yet, did his father counsel Mike that the 10-year old boy probably brought the sexual violating on himself?  Was the victim blamed rather than the victimizer?  Where is the protection for the vulnerable here?  Why is a coach of a revered and worshiped football team more worthy of respect than those he has been given authority over?  After Mike, the responsibility to save this boy's life was Mike's dad.  He failed.


Then there is Joe Paterno.  Why didn't he contact the police right away?  How could he keep giving unfettered access to the facilities to Jerry Sandusky with the same sort of boys that he had violated in 2002?  Jerry says that Joe never talked to him about the subject - ever.  Of course, we can't really trust Jerry, or anyone involved here, now that they have all lawyered up.  But Jerry says it and that premise has not been debunked because there is no official record of it ever happening.  Why is that?  How could Jerry continue being one of Paterno's right hand men on the field for years?  Joe Paterno failed.

The rest of the crew did worse, lying to authorities and downplaying the facts or even failing to report the incident altogether.

God help my sons if this is the status quo when football worship is involved.  Do people really care more about their future careers where I cannot trust anyone around my children, ever?  I sure hope not.  I want to believe that this series of incidents was simply an anomaly.

God help us all if it was not.