Schwyzer infests (or infested; I haven’t been following his current faculty status) Pasadena City College. This may be a problem for those who live in Pasadena and are looking to take community college courses. But PCC is a piker school. In grand cultural terms, it doesn’t matter. Columbia is a fucking ivy, and Emma Sulkowicz, its most (in)famous young alumna, has just released a pornographic reenactment of what she calls her rape. Wow Much Martyrs. Oh, and her audience is under instructions not to watch it for the wrong reasons:
Ceci N’est Pas Un Viol is not about one night in August, 2012. It’s about your decisions, starting now. It’s only a reenactment if you disregard my words. It’s about you, not him.
Do not watch this video if your motives would upset me, my desires are unclear to you, or my nuances are indecipherable.
You might be wondering why I’ve made myself this vulnerable. Look—I want to change the world, and that begins with you, seeing yourself. If you watch this video without my consent, then I hope you reflect on your reasons for objectifying me and participating in my rape, for, in that case, you were the one who couldn’t resist the urge to make Ceci N’est Pas Un Viol about what you wanted to make it about: rape.
Please, don’t participate in my rape. Watch kindly.
Don’t make it about rape? But it’s about a rape. Okay, it’s about a fantasized rape, which means that Sulkowicz is a hell of a lot more interested in rape than I am. My interest in rape is limited to requesting, since we’re on the subject, more spillover traffic from Dubai Porta Potty to my lengthy Ghomeshi perv series. The traffic, alas, is not forthcoming; something to do with an inbound link, apparently. Am I going to ask that my readers not read Dubai Porta Potty out of prurient psychosexual interest? Well, the whole essay is about sexual perverts, so probably not. Plus, all that traffic is a gift horse, and a pretty nice one at that, so I’m not about to crowdfund a new set of teeth for the beast.
Sulkowicz is projecting like whoa. She assumes that everyone else is obsessed with and turned on by rape because that’s what gets her wet. She, of all people, wants to shame the rest of us for being voyeurs who get our jollies from watching her own reenactment of her trauma. And the mattress. She cries rape and asks us to watch, but not for the wrong reasons, like because rape is teh hawt or something.
Chateau Heartiste is hosting a group discussion of the implications of Sulkowicz apparently being Jewish or a Jewish half-breed or something. Look: I’m a quarter Jewish, and we aren’t all like that, okay? I’m not saying that Jews are well-adjusted; they tend not to be, unfortunately. Woody Allen is one. All right, Geraldo Rivera is a half-Jew, and not exactly a mensch, but at the same time a decent-enough fellow, and not too fucked up for a Long Islander. But Sulkowicz? Speak ill of the Jews with cause, if you wish, but she’s still a very special case. Let’s say that she’s one in a thousand among Jews and would be only one in a million among the goyim; she’s still operating on a moral plane that is perfectly accessible to psychopathic gentiles, even if they (we?) don’t show it quite that way. I know full-blooded goyim who are every bit as crazy and manipulative and amoral as her. Or if Sulkowicz was adopted into the faith, maybe it was like Romulus, Remus, and the she-wolf. How likely is an adoptee to go native with that much ugliness? That isn’t what’s going on. There’s something intrinsically wrong with Emma Sulkowicz. An intrinsically healthy, moral, and well-adjusted person does not act like that. Negative feedback loops will kick in and put brakes on the crazy. But there are plenty of tragic stories about non-kin adoptees falling into dysfunctional, troubled lives in spite of the frantic efforts of their well-adjusted, supportive parents. I’ve known at least one myself.
None of this explains the glaring structural problem of an Ivy League university (and not even Corneigh-eigh-eigh-ell) facilitating Sulkowicz’s ongoing mattress stunt. Psych services didn’t intervene, department heads didn’t intervene, academic and student affairs deans didn’t intervene, the masters of ceremonies for the commencement didn’t intervene: the entire fucking institution was derelict in its duties to Sulkowicz as a crazed student, to her classmates and professors as prospective (or provably actual) victims of her carrying-on, and to the institution itself. And to the country: Columbia trains much more than its share of the national and international elite. Heavy the head that wears the crown, etc., except that in this case the crown seems to be a paper hand-me-down from Burger King. Shit, the Burger King himself could take Sulkowicz carnally on the quad at high noon and this clusterfuck would hardly become any more surreal.
*HARD* ly be *CUM*. Heh. Giggity.
Expect to see more of this horseshit as graduation day recedes. Sulkowicz has talked and talked and talked herself out of her chance to get a job doing anything other than solipsistic grievance-whoring. Her other options for payroll income at any pay grade must be awfully marginal at this point; she’d either have to hope that some hiring manager takes pity on her and gives her a break or find an employer who lets his employees’ pasts be the past. Or one who routinely hires felons. She’d probably find her new colleagues much sexier than Paul Nungesser. Bad boys. Whatcha gonna do, Emma?
Nah. Taking such a menial job would require awfully much humility for such a world-class bachelor’s-level attention whore.
I’ll be keeping an eye out in Salem or wherever the hell I end up for Mexicans and rednecks who look like they can keep the project that we call civilization from going completely off the rails.