Trigger Warning: domestic violence. Yesterday, I put up a post about Barbara Sheehan, who killed her husband after being battered by him for years and years. Then, last night, in a misguided and insomnia-addled attempt to clean up the punctuation, wound up deleting the post instead. I talked about the question, "Why did she stay with him?" and discussed that in this particular case, the man had all manner of weapons (two on him at any given moment) and told his wife that he'd use his police training to kill her and make sure her body was never found. I also offered an anecdote about a newly-married friend who stayed with a batterer for months because she was so ashamed of what she perceived as a series of terrible mistakes, from having "chosen badly" to feeling not smart, mature, and/or "woman" enough to have married in the first place. I noted that prosecutor in the Sheehan case was trying to shame and intimidate the victim, too ("the defendant has failed to cooperate").
Trigger Warning: fat hatred. Was also going to discuss this David Sirota piece about the "Fat Guy's Privilege" and why it needs to end (and not just because I'd rather stick needles in my eyes than have to listen to any more bullying, braying, and/or bellowing from Chris Christie).
More, hopefully, later. Right now, I have to work. Why does it always get in the way?