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Serious Debates & News Debate and discussion about political, moral, philosophical, celebrity and news topics. |
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#201 | |||
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I Love my brick
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So to Paddy Jackson and Stuart Olding, Blane McIlroy and Rory Harrison, I say this: you may have been found not guilty of the charges brought against you, but you are all guilty of being utter scum. You are damned by your own words. “Spit roasting” women with your friends and later laughing about them as “sluts” and “flutes” doesn’t make you “top shaggers”. It makes you pathetic, inadequate misogynists who see women as nothing more than mere masturbatory receptacles. If you think leaving women bleeding, torn and crying is normal then you should not be having sex. I hope and expect that no woman will ever want to touch any of you after this case. You should not be wearing the jersey of any national sports team, regardless of the verdict. https://www.stylist.co.uk/long-reads...mpression=true
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#202 | ||
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Senior Member
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So... avoiding strangers isn't going to do much for rape statistics. Unless they are to avoid being alone with any man they know in their life? Last edited by Marsh.; 03-04-2018 at 01:43 PM. |
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#203 | ||
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Senior Member
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"*He played CCTV footage from Ollie’s nightclub which appeared to show her briefly touching the knee of footballer*Kyle Lafferty*and momentarily holding onto the arm of his teammate Will Grigg. "
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#204 | ||
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Senior Member
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Kind of baffling that vaginal tears and profuse bleeding can be construed as "sex" but holding onto the arm of a rugby player in a nightclub is seen as consent to said sex. Wtf?
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#205 | |||
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I Love my brick
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I know right? :/
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#206 | |||
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Likes cars that go boom
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The extension to all fields encompassing all crimes is a new one, again I don't see how a professional perspective on a case is collective enough to make a decision as to innocence or guilt on.
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#207 | |||
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OG(den)
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When my friend told me she'd been coerced into sex I believed her - but was I right?
![]() I brooded long and hard this weekend about #MeToo and the recent slew of rape trial scandals and the confusion they’ve inevitably sowed in female breasts. For most women the defenestration of Harvey Weinstein was a long-overdue sign that a certain form of sexual predation, involving using your professional status as a crowbar, would not be tolerated again. Who knows whether Weinstein will ever be found guilty in a court of law, but it’s fair to say the court of public opinion is firmly against him. Then there’s the Belfast rape trial, involving Ulster rugby players who were eventually acquitted of any offence. The crude and debasing social media messages sent between defendants about the girl at the centre of the trial, not to mention the fact she suffered a bleeding vaginal lesion means many people, myself included, can’t help feeling there were offences against basic human decency. ![]() Pulling in another direction, there’s the resignation of the Director of Public Prosecutions Alison Saunders, whose term of office saw an alarming number of failed rape trials: prosecutions that collapsed after it became clear potentially exonerating evidence (such as flirty online messages following supposed rapes) had been withheld by the police. Cases that, it seems, should never have come to trial. Suddenly many a female heart was stricken with thoughts of a son or younger brother standing in the dock because an awkward sexual encounter had been misconstrued, or regretted. Yesterday we learnt of a teacher who lost care of a child he’d just adopted because of false allegations of inappropriate sexual behaviour. We cannot avoid the truth that men can find themselves vulnerable too. That the truth may not be instantly or easily resolved – indeed, the truth may not be recoverable at all. Rape is the hardest offence to prosecute because in almost all instances nobody witnesses the disputed sexual encounter and – unlike murder, GBH, burglary or fraud – it’s often impossible to say for certain an offence has even been committed. That’s really what the trial’s about. Yet we still act as judge and jury on the Twittersphere, expressing our convictions with an almost messianic sense of certainty. We stare at photos of those charged with sexual assault, read press reports and issue our own verdicts: happiest when our cherished social templates go unchallenged. Yet it’s vital to bear in mind nice guys can and sometimes do behave in an uncharacteristically oafish fashion and that boorish rugger lads have plenty of consensual sex. However outraged I feel about the low rate of rape convictions, however dark my feelings about Weinstein and the Belfast defendants’ “spit-roasting”, there’s no doubt we must cling to the central tenet of justice: guilt must be proven beyond reasonable doubt. I know from personal experience how easy it is to let personal prejudice and dislike distort your better judgement. Twenty-eight years ago I was an undergraduate in my final year of studies, discovering the joys of feminist theory and bohemian escapism. This largely meant that when I wasn’t devouring the works of Doris Lessing and Sylvia Plath, I was swimming naked in the Thames near Abingdon. My interactions with female intimates had a coven-like intensity, which included fomenting fierce dislikes for certain male contemporaries. So when a friend came to me in tears and said she’d been coerced into sex by a man who I was borderline allergic to, I accepted every word without question. This youth seemed to me to suffer from a particularly toxic brand of condescension and aggression. I’d heard him openly boast of twisting female academics round his finger. My friend was reluctant to take the matter further, which I put down to her conflict-averse and somewhat fey nature. I was the bold, mouthy one in our friendship, so it was clear to me I should act as her champion. Once resolved, I marched my friend off to lodge an official complaint with the women’s officer and dean, prompting her when she fell strangely silent about her ordeal. The offending student was duly put through disciplinary procedures, which included a period of rustication and instructions to live outside the college’s grounds. I never felt more like a warrior queen than when I strode across the college lawns shortly after these admonishments and the man came up to me and lobbed a huge gobbet of spittle at my foot. I felt proud of my defence of truth and honour: like Joan of Arc and Boudicca merged into one. And that’s how I continued feeling for a couple of years. By then I had moved into a flat in London with a group of women, including my assaulted friend from student days. As the months passed, I noticed my friend was inclined to be worryingly economical with the truth. She was also alarmingly flirtatious (and I approve of flirting on the whole) with any man who entered the apartment, sitting at their feet laughing and rubbing their legs. She had a boyfriend of her own who seemed to exist on a pitch of rampant jealousy and despair. He would phone asking where she was and the truth was we generally didn’t know. "I will never know for sure what happened in that student bedroom three decades ago, but I now embrace my ignorance, uncertainty and the fact some sexual encounters are ambiguous" Then a trusted mutual friend took me for a drink and revealed that my flatmate had told her boyfriend she’d been raped by a work colleague. I knew the man in question well and simply couldn’t believe it of him. More than that, it made no sense that she would only discuss the rape with her pathologically jealous boyfriend. I decided to quiz the work colleague concerned and after some gentle probing he admitted he’d been having a consensual affair with my flatmate for six months. He gave examples of their pillow talk that absolutely tallied with my friend’s vernacular and humour. As we talked, a terrible realisation struck me. What if my certainty that my friend had been sexually assaulted during our university days was also open to question? Was that why I’d had to propel her before college authorities? And why the accused youth felt so angry he literally spat on my feet? The woman at the centre of this story is the only friend I’ve ever had to simply stop seeing: her relationship with the truth was simply too taxing. In mitigation, her childhood had been complicated and she had hinted at sexual abuse. Perhaps that was another fabrication, perhaps not. I will never know for sure what happened in that student bedroom three decades ago, but I now embrace my ignorance, uncertainty and the fact that some sexual encounters are ambiguous. What a learned friend calls “two bad psychodramas colliding”. https://www.telegraph.co.uk/women/li...udgement-rape/ |
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#208 | |||
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This Witch doesn't burn
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She said she froze as Jackson pushed her down on the bed and with her tight trousers caught at her knees, she couldn’t move. “I was face down on the bed and he was having sex with me.” Jackson knew she did not want it to happen “but he kept going”, she said. Then the door opened and Olding walked in. “My heart just sank. I knew what was going to happen. I looked Patrick Jackson straight in the eyes and said ‘please no, not him as well’.” how could she look him in the eyes if she was face down on the bed ? t this point the door opened and she heard a female voice. The jury would later hear this was Dara Florence, a key witness in the case. The woman turned her head away because she feared, with all the photographs being taken downstairs, that she might be filmed. Jackson asked this other woman did she want to stay but Florence said no and shut the door. When she heard the female voice why didn't she shout out, would your first thought be I don't want to be filmed and even with your head turned away you could still shout out.. but then the testimony from the taxi driver is very condemning.. its a difficult case for sure
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'put a bit of lippy on and run a brush through your hair, we are alcoholics, not savages' Quote:
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#209 | ||
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0_o
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Dara Florence thing is so odd. I mean, those believing the guys are using Florence as some kind of gotcha thing right. However Florence stated that she saw a threesome, with Paddy jackson with his dick in the complainant, thrusting from behind her.
But Jackson reckoned he did not have penetrative sex with the girl, only oral and he fingered her a little. So if Florence is deemed a reliable witness..thats just one of many of Paddys lies he has been caught out on, right?! But yes, the turning ones head to avoid photos is quite weird. I don't think the not crying out thing is though, its pretty well known that many people when attacked lose the ability to speak. The being facedown thing, well, you could still turn your head surely? |
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#210 | ||
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thesheriff443
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Sex took place between three people but there was clearly reasonable doubt for the men not to be convicted of rape or even a lesser charge of sexual assault.
It's not the first case of this kind and sadly won't be the last. |
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#211 | ||
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That's not to say that she wasn't attacked, still, as people's memories of these events can become muddled and confused, but it is definitely a contradictory statement. Either she turned around at some point, or she didn't make eye contact when she says she did. |
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#212 | ||
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0_o
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Hmm maybe. I took facedown to be, well, facedown but with legs on the floor, so kind of bent over the bed rather than pinned facedown flat on bed?
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#213 | |||
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This Witch doesn't burn
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'put a bit of lippy on and run a brush through your hair, we are alcoholics, not savages' Quote:
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#214 | |||
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OG(den)
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the number of rape allegations has soared in the last 5 years
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#215 | |||
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I Love my brick
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So?
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#216 | |||
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OG(den)
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#217 | |||
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I Love my brick
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#218 | ||
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0_o
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Imagine you are stood facing your bed.
Well like that, but bent over the bed. Feels quite..wrong to be discussing this in this way but yeah, thats what I meant ![]() So you could turn your head and look over your shoulder. Not like..pinned flat on the bed as in lying flat Last edited by Vicky.; 04-04-2018 at 08:25 PM. |
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#219 | ||
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0_o
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https://www.irishtimes.com/news/crim...nday-1.3450089
Wonder what this is. Quote:
Last edited by Vicky.; 04-04-2018 at 08:49 PM. |
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#220 | |||
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I Love my brick
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#221 | ||
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0_o
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Theres been a rumour doing the rounds for a few weeks now that there was a further whatsapp chat that was more incriminating but it was deemed inadmissible. Of course that could be absolute bollocks...but whats for sure is that its something on one+ of the guys involved, and not anything on the woman. Last edited by Vicky.; 04-04-2018 at 09:04 PM. |
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#222 | |||
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I Love my brick
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#223 | ||
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thesheriff443
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I'm the man that found a fourteen year old walking a country road at 230 in the morning made her call her mum and stayed with her until her mum came to pick her up, her mum was in bits and so greatfull. I'm the man that tells bouncers to get drunk girls a taxi because men are going up to them trying to get them to go back with them. I'm the man that found a girl on another country road in bits after a taxi driver tryed it on with her and I took her home I'm a decent man, just because I'm not a nodding dig in this thread and come with a different view point don't make me an arshole. |
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#224 | |||
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Quand il pleut, il pleut
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..I understand the awareness of ‘personal vulnerabilities’ in situations...but sadly in society that’s often placed placed and totally focused on the female..and rape trials especially are extremely difficult for ‘victims’ as we know...which is why many are not reported...or reluctant to report...but as a non guilty verdict was reached in this case...we as a society would assume the ‘victims’ to also be the rugby players...yet society still doesn’t say...’why did they put themselves in that position’...why is no focus seemingly placed on that aspect...the disrespect they appear to have for females aside...they became ‘vulnerable’, surely in their intentions for that evening ..to leave themselves so open in the whole vein of events...to being accused of rape and non-consensual sexual acts...?...no focus of ‘blame or vulnerability’..ever appears to be there though in how society views these things...?...
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#225 | |||
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I Love my brick
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