There’s been a lot of ink spilled in the past month or so about an alleged gang rape of a young woman at a University of Virginia fraternity party several years ago that is just coming to light.
Here’s some background, because there’s more involved than just one fraternity at the University of Virginia, the driver here is feminists on campuses and the deadly combination of the US Department of Justice and the US Department of Education. For several years the DoE has been pushing colleges and universities for very tough standards on “sexual assault” and linking what they think are lenient standards to “Title IX” assaults on university funding.
Universities are adopting rules and procedures that basically rule an “unwanted kiss” a “sexual assault.” They also use university administrative hearings where the accused (a man) is denied due process. No legal representation, no ability to confront his accuser, and a burden of proof that in most cases doesn’t even approach “preponderance of evidence” let alone “reasonable doubt.” Men are being expelled or severely disciplined, with entries on their permanent record, for charges that are years old and have never been taken to the police. In many cases, where charges have been referred to the police and they’ve either been discharged for lack of evidence or proved to be outright lies (the woman confesses) administrative action against men are still pursued by the school.
You get the idea.
Back to University of Virginia. Rolling Stone magazine had an article accusing a fraternity of having a “rite of passage” that included a gang rape. Here’s the gist of the story, and this is supposed to have happened in the fall of 2012, twenty-five months ago.
Drew ushered Jackie into a bedroom, shutting the door behind them. The room was pitch-black inside. Jackie blindly turned toward Drew, uttering his name. At that same moment, she says, she detected movement in the room – and felt someone bump into her. Jackie began to scream.
“Shut up,” she heard a man’s voice say as a body barreled into her, tripping her backward and sending them both crashing through a low glass table. There was a heavy person on top of her, spreading open her thighs, and another person kneeling on her hair, hands pinning down her arms, sharp shards digging into her back, and excited male voices rising all around her. When yet another hand clamped over her mouth, Jackie bit it, and the hand became a fist that punched her in the face. The men surrounding her began to laugh. For a hopeful moment Jackie wondered if this wasn’t some collegiate prank. Perhaps at any second someone would flick on the lights and they’d return to the party.
“Grab its motherfucking leg,” she heard a voice say. And that’s when Jackie knew she was going to be raped.
She remembers every moment of the next three hours of agony, during which, she says, seven men took turns raping her, while two more – her date, Drew, and another man – gave instruction and encouragement. She remembers how the spectators swigged beers, and how they called each other nicknames like Armpit and Blanket. She remembers the men’s heft and their sour reek of alcohol mixed with the pungency of marijuana. Most of all, Jackie remembers the pain and the pounding that went on and on.
A young woman is thrown through a glass coffee table, which shatters, “…sharp shards digging into her back… She remembers every moment of the next three hours of agony…” She’s punched in the face. She’s raped by seven men.
This is a story that, if true, every American should want to see those men charged with everything authorities can think of, convicted and sent away to prison for at least life. And we’d be OK with the idea that they were raped in prison every day. We’d want civil suits against the men, their families, their fraternity, the sponsoring national fraternity, they should all face financial ruin.
Needless to say, the administrators at the University of Virginia have been running for cover since the story came out and exploded on social media. They’ve shut down the fraternity in question and they’re looking for some way to punish the unidentified men involved, but according to “Jackie” some or all have graduated and she refuses to name them because she’s afraid.
It’s worthwhile noting that “Jackie” didn’t report this to the police and she didn’t seek medical care.
She painfully rose from the floor and ran shoeless from the room. She emerged to discover the Phi Psi party still surreally under way, but if anyone noticed the barefoot, disheveled girl hurrying down a side staircase, face beaten, dress spattered with blood, they said nothing. Disoriented, Jackie burst out a side door, realized she was lost, and dialed a friend, screaming, “Something bad happened. I need you to come and find me!” Minutes later, her three best friends on campus – two boys and a girl (whose names are changed) – arrived to find Jackie on a nearby street corner, shaking. “What did they do to you? What did they make you do?” Jackie recalls her friend Randall demanding. Jackie shook her head and began to cry. The group looked at one another in a panic. They all knew about Jackie’s date; the Phi Kappa Psi house loomed behind them. “We have to get her to the hospital,” Randall said.
Their other two friends, however, weren’t convinced. “Is that such a good idea?” she recalls Cindy asking. “Her reputation will be shot for the next four years.” Andy seconded the opinion, adding that since he and Randall both planned to rush fraternities, they ought to think this through. The three friends launched into a heated discussion about the social price of reporting Jackie’s rape, while Jackie stood beside them, mute in her bloody dress, wishing only to go back to her dorm room and fall into a deep, forgetful sleep. Detached, Jackie listened as Cindy prevailed over the group: “She’s gonna be the girl who cried ‘rape,’ and we’ll never be allowed into any frat party again.”
After several weeks of near riots on campuses by feminists and rhetorical lynching of the University of Virginia, people are finally starting to question whether this really happened.
“Jackie” supposedly endured three hours of gang rape in a pitch black room rolling around on shards of broken glass. She was beaten. She was cut up and bleeding. Her three best friends didn’t want her to report it because it would ruin their social life. They’d never be allowed in a frat party again, to quote her female friend. We wonder why that girl would want to go to a frat party if the story was true? We wonder who picked the glass shards out of “Jackie’s” back? We wonder who stitched up “Jackie’s” back after rolling around in glass shards for three hours?
That’s just for starters. You can read a detailed exposition on this incident here.
This story does not pass the smell test. We think it’s a lie. If you do some research on “campus sexual assault” you’ll find that a huge percentage of the charges by women that are adjudicated through campus administrative procedures turn out to be false. Lawyers have found a new goose laying a golden egg, suing schools on behalf of falsely charged men. Personally, we hope a whole bunch of lawyers get staggeringly rich from this.
If these charges at the University of Virginia turn out to be false, and we believe they will, the fraternity in question should file suit against Rolling Stone and the University, who, without due process, suspended their privileges. Hopefully, somebody will go after “Jackie” as well.
We’re not holding our breath. After all, the alleged perpetrators were “rich, white, males” who forgot to check their privilege.
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