Founder of The Rape Accusation-Industrial Complex
Three things happen when false rape accusations are mass-marketed for fun, profit and social justice. Political expediency is served. Lives get destroyed and liars pocket the proceeds. It’s a win-win situation – unless you’re the poor son-of-sea-biscuit sent out into the dessert as a scapegoat for the supposed sins of The Patriarchy. We see a textbook example of how this works in the execrable case of Lena Dunham’s dishonest personal memoir. A similar sort of imaginative literature was also recently published by Rolling Stone Magazine about UVA.
The current media economic demand for false rape accusations and consequent men to geld stems from the current sick fascination our culture has with misandry. By making her blatantly fictional rape at the hands of “Barry” the campus Republican the centerpiece of her book, Lena Dunham raked in lucre far beyond that which her otherwise utterly mediocre talents would justify. Brietbart describes the hoopla below.
After receiving a reported $3.7 million advance, Dunham’s memoir hit bookshelves in September with a publicity blitz usually reserved for conquering generals returning to ancient Rome. On top of the usual network television appearances and glossy magazine profiles, Dunham’s book tour not only sold out in places, but scalped tickets reportedly sold for as high as $900
As for Barry, he supposedly attended Oberlin College at the same time Dunham did and here are all the roguish and vile things of which he is accused. It’s NSFW graphic. I edit her puerile profanities.
When I was young, I read an article about a ten-year-old girl who was raped by a stranger on a dark road. … And I never forgot this story, but I didn’t remember until many days after Barry (Expletive) me. (Expletive) me so hard that the next morning I had to sit in a hot bath to soothe myself. Then I remembered.
And then there’s his ill-mannered social graces and also a scene that she forgot to footnote from American Psycho.
There was a story of him punching a girl in the boobs at a party. …
[M]y friend Melody tells me that once her friend Julia woke up the morning after sex with Barry, and the wall was spattered with blood. Spattered, she said, “like a crime scene.” But he was nice and took her for the morning-after pill and named the …read more