Shrill: Notes from a Loud Woman(45)

The second day, my phone buzzed me awake.

Bzzt.


no need for you to worry about rape uggo



Bzzt.


Jesus Christ this woman is about as fun as dry rape. Lighten up Lindy!



Bzzt.


you are really annoying. Don’t worry no one would ever rape u. Worry about ur Health & the heart attack that’s coming #uglycow



The debate had gone up on YouTube, and Jim had posted it to his social media accounts.


I love how the Bitch complaining about rape is the exact kind of Bitch that would never be raped. Bitch have you looked in the mirror?



There were hundreds and hundreds of them. Thousands, maybe. I had never encountered such an unyielding wall of vitriol. They flooded in, on Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, my e-mail, the comments on Jezebel.


Who the fuck, in their right mind, would want to rape you?



I had been trolled before—for confronting Dan, for mocking men’s rights activists, for disliking Sex and the City 2—but nothing like this. Nothing could compare to the misogynist rage of male comedy fans at being challenged by an unfuckable woman.

I wanted to rebut every one, but didn’t. There was no point. This thing was alive.


She wants to get screwed so badly I bet you all the rape she is shaking her finger at is exactly what she wants.



You cannot “want” rape.


That big bitch is bitter that no one wants to rape her do some laps lardy holly shit her stomachs were touching the floor



Rape is not a compliment.


No one would want to rape that fat, disgusting mess.



Rape is not a gift or a favor or a validation.


lets cut the bullshit that broad doesnt have to worry about rape



Fat women get raped too.


You’re fat, ugly, and unfuckable. You don’t have to worry about rape!



Are you sure?


There is a group of rapists with over 9000 penises coming for this fat bitch



There is nothing novel or comedic or righteous about men using the threat of sexual violence to control noncompliant women. This is how society has always functioned. Stay indoors, women. Stay safe. Stay quiet. Stay in the kitchen. Stay pregnant. Stay out of the world. If you want to talk about silencing, censorship, placing limits and consequences on speech, this is what it looks like.


She won’t ever need to worry about rape, ever!



I don’t know any woman who hasn’t experienced some level of sexual predation, from catcalls, to unwanted advances at bars, to emotional manipulation, to violent rape. I certainly have—even “unrapeable” me. All women do need to worry about rape.


Don’t disrespect ppls way of calming themselves down. Embracing the sick idea of rape keeps some from ever actually doing it



You are a rapist.


What a fucking cunt. Kill yourself, dumb bitch.



No.


Why is it almost all women that hate men are the most unfuckable people ever.



I stepped off the plane in Seattle, my phone vibrating like a pocket full of bees. The local comedy scene had started in on me at this point: I was a cunt, a fraud, a failed comic, I knew nothing about comedy and had no right to comment on it. (Strangely, they’d had boundless confidence in my expertise back when they were kissing my ass for a mention in the paper.) Someone made a “parody” Twitter account called “Lindy East” (wow, you guys really are comedy experts), its avatar a stolen photo of me, my neck and face grotesquely inflated into a massive gullet. One guy—someone I’d never met personally but who was a regular at the same clubs I frequented—wrote on Facebook that he wished I’d fall down a flight of stairs. (Let’s call him Dave.) People I knew “liked” Dave’s comment—one was a regular at The Moth, whom I had to intro with a smile onstage a few weeks later. But it’s just comedy. To worry about my safety was a form of hysteria. Insulting, if you think about it. Can’t a nice guy just defend his art?


Jabba has nothing to worrie about, not even a prison escapee would rape her.



I was determined to show my face at the open mics that week—to make it clear that I wouldn’t be cowed or chased away. “I’ll be at the Underground tonight if anyone wants to talk,” I wrote on Facebook and Twitter. I’d have Aham with me. Nothing would happen. We’d be safe. I hadn’t done stand-up in at least a year, so I threw together a few new jokes: “When people want to insult me, it’s always ‘Jabba the Hutt.’ Which is really insulting. To Jabba the Hutt. The dude is an intergalactic warlord. He owns a monster. I’m a feminist blogger, you guys.”


Aham and I went to the open mic, did our sets, had fun, and went home.


There is no way a straight dude would fuck or even rape that ugly heifer. What an annoying cunt.



Nearly a year later, a mutual friend would show me his text exchange with Dave about that open mic night. Unbeknownst to us, Dave was convinced that Aham was going to attack him over his “fall down the stairs” comment. “I’m a big boy,” he wrote (sic throughout), “and I can fight my own battles and take any punches thrown at me but Ill be honest until we squared that away I thought for sure I was going to get in a street fight with that guy. I worked out for two hours just visualizing the fight before the Underground that night, I had a switchblade on me, a 9mm in my trunk and I was ready for anything.”