How To Prevent Rape - UPDATE

(See update below)

A lot has been said about how to prevent rape. Women should learn self-defense. Women should lock themselves in their houses after dark. Women shouldn’t wear short skirts. Women shouldn’t leave drinks unattended. Perhaps they shouldn’t dare to get drunk at all.
Instead of further curtailing women’s freedom, how about:
If a woman is drunk, don’t rape her.
If a woman is walking alone at night, don’t rape her.
If a women is drugged and unconscious, don’t rape her.
If a woman is wearing a short skirt, don’t rape her.
If a woman is jogging in a park at 5 am, don’t rape her.
If a woman looks like your ex-girlfriend you’re still hung up on, don’t rape her.
If a woman is asleep in her bed, don’t rape her.
If a woman is asleep in your bed, don’t rape her.
If a woman is doing her laundry, don’t rape her.
If a woman is in a coma, don’t rape her.
If a woman changes her mind in the middle of or about a particular activity, don’t rape her.
If a woman has repeatedly refused a certain activity, don’t rape her.
If a woman is not yet a woman, but a child, don’t rape her.
If your girlfriend or wife is not in the mood, don’t rape her.
If your step-daughter is watching tv, don’t rape her.
If you break into a house and find a woman there, don’t rape her.
If your friend thinks it’s okay to rape someone, tell him it’s not, and that he’s not your friend.
If your “friend” tells you he raped someone, report him to the police.
If your frat-brother or another guy at the party tells you there’s an unconscious woman upstairs and It’s your turn, don’t rape her, call the police and tell the guy he’s a rapist.
Tell your sons, god-sons, nephews, grandsons, sons of friends it’s not okay to rape someone.
Don’t tell your women friends how to be safe and avoid rape.
Don’t imply that she could have avoided it if she’d only done/not done x.
Don’t imply that it’s in any way her fault.
Don’t let silence imply agreement when someone tells you he “got some” with the drunk girl.
Don’t perpetuate a culture that tells you that you have no control over or responsibility for your actions. You can, too, help yourself.
If you agree, repost it. It’s that important.

- Author Unknown

I saw this when I followed a link from Susie Bright’s blog, and I had to share it on Facebook.  Say what you will about it, but it can be used effectively.  Anyway, I received many positive comments with promises to repost, and then some random dude said this:

Adam you post some great stuff but this is lame.

Ex-squeeze me?  For now, this guy shall remain anonymous – I don’t know him – but if I see anything even remotely douchebag-ish from him in the future I’m putting him ON BLAST.

I shared this:

There's a movie theatre that I go to sometimes to see off the beaten track-type films. One month, a few years ago, on two separate occasions there was this guy who sat near me and would jack off while looking at me.
Good friggin' Christ...

We spend so much time concerning ourselves with putting the responsibility of preventing sexual assault on potential victims.  How about we teach everyone – men especially - that sexual assault, harassment, and abuse is NOT OK.  I don’t care if it’s some Maxim tart wearing nothing but a thong and some postage stamps flinging herself at you, and then she changes her mind.

* * *

UPDATE – the guy who made the insensitive comment had the guts to send me a message apologizing.  Not an “I’m sorry you were offended”, but an “I’m sorry I offended you”.  So for this reason, there will be no All Points Bulletins on him.  And using it as a Teachable Moment, I accepted his apology and explained why his remarks are out of line given the fact that he finds rape reprehensible.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again – it’s all about dialogue, folks.  I just hope he took to heart what I wrote to him.  A lot of men have no idea just how many women – women that they personally care for and know – have suffered sexual harassment/assault and/or physical assault.


Je suis ici

population:  249

aaahhhhhh, the slow life.  It’s nice every once in a while.  I’m not a city girl and I’m definitely not a country girl, I’m just a girl who knows how to adapt to her surroundings and not be so uptight.

I arrived in Paris on the 26th of October and stayed there until September 1st.  Paris is very citizen-oriented, even more so than New York City if you can believe it.  More cities should be citizen-oriented this way.  Paris, however, is not exactly hopping with nightlife.  This is why I will retire to London for my birthday this upcoming weekend.

Marnay-sur-Seine is so tiny, you have to go over to the next town to get groceries or use the ATM.  The produce here is SO FRESH, it’s delicious.  Those who know me know that I’m a vegetarian (more like pescatarian), but I took a 3 week meat vacation to taste the local fare.  The meat here is so much better, and the chicken tastes different.  And the cheese!  And the cream!  And the chocolate! And the butter! And the dessert!  And the cheese!  And the dessert!  Oh la la…

But if I come back to LA fat, I’ll never book paid work again, so I’m back to my vegetarian self.


For Jayden

Hello all!  Loyal followers of my blog (my sister and my mom) will be happy to know that my beautiful nephew is celebrating his first birthday on the 28th!  I’m in France, though, so since I can’t be there I sent him a present and made him this.

I still can’t believe that my sister is a mother.  It’s something I understand on an intellectual level, and something I’ve seen carried out on a practical level, but it still hasn’t sunk in…


Book Review

In which I review the novel I’m currently reading, Skinny Legs and All by Tom Robbins

I Deserve to be Punished

I have grown derelict in my duties to you and the Internets.  I made it a goal to post at least a few times a month, and here it’s been 5 months and I haven’t written to the world.  How dare I?

Blame it on Facebook.  And the fact that I was teaching for 7 months – something I had never done before – and had no extra time to share my inspired and witty musings with the world.  And then when school let out, I had been so long out of practice and plus I began a WILD, PASSIONATE ROMANCE with a dark, swarthy, brooding young musician (noooooooooo!!!  you promised to never love again!).

I’m overseas, and if you care to know, I call him using Skype.  So there.

I promise I’ll be good.  But I also promise to punish myself because I deserve it.  Oh yeah.


1st: I'm Bona Fide

Very belated great news:  J'ira a la France!!!


I applied for a UNESCO sponsored residency at Camac - an arts center located in a tiny town about 1 hour outside of Paris.  Sadly, I was not chosen for the sponsored program.  But the people who reviewed my portfolio wanted me to come anyway!  I told you I was brilliant!  I made the decision last fall to apply for artist residencies rather than to grad school, and here's the reason why:  there's too much MFA-produced crap out there.  No, I won't take it back.

Los Angeles is probably the best place to live as a practicing artist right now.  It's not about being in the "it" spot, or trying to be where everything is happening - indeed, everything is not happening here.  It's just that there's something about the environment in LA that facilitates creative thinking and productivity, and so many artists feel that and respond to it.   Unfortunately, the flip side of that is that just about anything gets an audience these days.

Whenever I go gallery-walkin' and such, I get the impression that at least 70% of the art getting representation right now is utter BS.  And more often than not, that BS has an MFA to back it up.  So I was thinking, "...if this is what passes muster after a rigorous program and critical thesis project, then I need to chill for a second while these MFA programs get it together".

I'm bona fide, I am already more than $130,000 in debt to Sallie Mae (see profile, that money-grubbing WHORE) for having the audacity to pursue a higher education despite my financial standing in this world - I'm super NOT going to pursue a masters while these programs try to channel my work in a more commercial gallery direction.  Because that's what everything is looking like.

I could be wrong, and if I am, I don't mind being wrong in France.  I'll be in Paris for a week before I go to the arts center in the countryside.

btw-If anyone ever happens to read this and you've spent significant time in France, I would like to know your opinion about it in the comments section.  I've got quite a few French friends, and most of them hate Paris.  Some tell me Paris is racist, others tell me that I'll never come back to America because I will be so loved that I'll become a star or something.  What's the deal?


Long Time No Post

As if anyone really reads this.  Seriously.

Many reasons why.  Full length expo-zay coming this summer.  In the meantime:

The Brick Testament

Xtra Normal


Urban Art @ Lincoln High School - Revok, Augor, Saber

Sills Models


Btw, there was an earthquake just now.



My Christ, will you look at his FEET?  I swear, every time I hear some James Brown I get that feeling I had when I saw Rage Against the Machine live in concert - my soul just responds, ya know?  Don't get me started, I LOVE dancing to James Brown.  My auntie Gloria Jean used to love him, I'm told.


Frenchmen Say The Darndest Things

Favorite quotes:

"I like this, when you open your hair..."

-Antoine, my best friend's former landlord, in reference to my afro

"It's a bearsexploitation..."

-Tony, my facebook husband in London


I'll add them as they keep coming...


Starck Club

A converted warehouse in Dallas that was designed by Phillipe Starck, and where Grace Jones sometimes sang (!).  I wish I had been born earlier!  And apparently there's going to be a documentary about it coming out later this year.  Here's the trailer:


Right now I'm entertaining a fantasy of my mother having Kim (one of our babysitters) over to take care of us one night while she goes to Club Starck, takes a pill, and rolls aallllllll niiiiiiggght (awwww yeeaaaahhhh!)


The Soundtrack of my Youth

A typical Saturday morning before my mommy remarried:

1. My sister would wake me up, and we would take our blankets downstairs to watch cartoons and PBS while my mother slept in

2. We would eventually get hungry and start eating tortilla chips, drinking orange juice, and making up new games to play

3.  My mommy would wake up and start cleaning the apartment with the record player blasting.

She played Sting, Heavy D, Steely Dan, Anita Baker, Sade, Vanilla Ice, New Edition, The Rippingtons, Kenny G, and especially



Don't ask me where my love of grunge, punk rock, and Brazilian baile funk music came from because clearly that precedent was not set in our household...
btw I was at the gym about a month ago and a brand-spankin'-new Heavy D music video came on - woop woop!


Roland Burris is an ASS, I Tell Ya

Again, I'm just sayin'...