It’s just sick. Sick, sick, sick. Just last week I wrote how the women of this world are being raped and abused. How it happens each and every day. All over the world. By us men. Or people who would call themselves men. And now this. How sick can men get? How low can we go. We hit the bottom of the barrel and manage to go to a new low that is even more unimaginable. Yes, I am talking about the man from Austria.
I have been following this story since it “broke” late last week. I won’t go into details. That’s too hard. Follow the link above and search around a bit. But here’s the basics…
Elizabeth Fritzl was first raped and abused by her dad, Josef Fritzl, when she was 11 years old. And it continued from there. Regularly. Again. And again. And again. And Josef was planning and working on how to “institutionalize” this rape and abuse – while he was raping his daughter. So he build a dungeon in the basement. With soundproof rooms, electronic coded locks, no sunlight, a homemade kitchen, a makeshift toilet and a bedroom for rape and nightmares – 650 square feet of horror. Then he lured his daughter to the basement when she was 18 years old. And drugged and handcuffed her to subdue her. And kept her in the dungeon.
The rape and abuse got its own special place. A dungeon below the house. No one could hear the screams. No one could see the rape. And it went on and on. Rape after rape. For 24 years. Twenty-four years. 24 years.
You can read the rest. How he fathered 7 children with his raping of his daughter. How one died after a few days because of neglect. How he burned the body outside. How he forced his daughter to write letters saying she joined a sect. How he “adopted” a few of these kids. How some of them never saw daylight – ever. How his wife never knew about anything. How… how..
You fucking cowardly bastard, may you fucking rot in hell. I would kill him myself if I had a chance. I would torture him slowly so he could feel the pain for 24 fucking years.
But that’s the problem, isn’t it? That’s what us men want to do. Take the bastards and kill them. Take our anger out on them. Tear them apart. Shoot them. Strangle them. Torture them. Kill them. Because it will make us feel better. Because we with our shallow emotions don’t know how to talk to our wives or girlfriends or girl friends or daughters. I am not blaming us. I am just saying how it is. We are raw in our emotions. But don’t know how to talk about it. We don’t know how to talk about it. And we don’t know how to prevent it. But I know it hurts men. Men who don’t rape. The silent majority.
We want to say something. But we don’t know how to start. Because we want to make things better. It is just so in our bones and blood – to fix things. And we think and hope and pray that we can fix this by taking it out on the rapists. By killing them. We hope and pray that by taking it out on them our women will somehow feel better. Will somehow feel whole again. Will somehow trust us again. And love us. And applaud us for showing how much we care. Will look at us in awe for showing our strength. Anything that will make us not talk about it. Sorry guys. It just won’t do.
I don’t know the answers. I don’t even know the bloody questions. But maybe we can start small. Maybe we can start by doing just one little thing to start off with. Let’s form M.A.R.S. – Men Against Rape Society. Yes, Men are from M.A.R.S.
But I am going to need your help here. I don’t know what the rules should be. I don’t know what we can do. All I know is that I don’t want to do nothing. So help me here. I don’t want to be quiet anymore.
Look, I am not looking for some weird groups of touchy-feely guys. I am no metrosexual. I am a sport loving, beer drinking, cigarette smoking, ball scratching kinda guy. I am not that “in touch” with my feelings. I am just a regular guy who says no more. I say fuck you rapists. You are not men. I will still strangle you if I get hold of you. That will make me feel better. But I also want to do something to stop it. Stop rape. And I want to do something to show the women of this world that we can be there for them. Somehow be someone they can rely on for support when they are raped. Whatever that means. An ear, a shoulder, a hug – whatever they need (on their terms) from us. So I have no strict rules on this. Anyone welcome. Let’s just follow a few basic rules we can abide by. Rules for M.A.R.S. I’ll give it a first go.
1. Real men don’t rape.
2. Real men don’t have friends who rape.
3. Real men speak out against rape.
4. Real men teach their sons not to rape but to respect and love.
5. Real men listen and talk to their wives and daughters about rape.
6. Real men support and talk to all women who have been raped – on their terms.
7. Real men don’t keep quiet any longer.
Okay, that’s a start. A bad one, but at least a start. Let’s fill in the gaps. Let’s try and narrow it down to just five rules for M.A.R.S. Or increase it to ten (I like the metric system!) Let’s tell our friends. Let’s tell our brothers. Let’s tell our sons. Let’s start a sign-up. (How, anyone got an idea?) Let’s start a movement. Women of the world – we will need you for this. Help us do something. Men, start acting. Tell me what we will need to do. Let’s throw a pebble and see what happens. But let’s not do nothing and say nothing.
Let’s be from M.A.R.S.
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