- Joined
- Jul 22, 2012
- Messages
- 36,636
- Reputation
- 3,816
- Daps
- 54,846
- Reppin
- #Targset,#Heatgang,#Byrdgang
Every jumpoff of these nba stars gonna scream $metoo too. Excuse me #metoo.
Aziz Ansari people
- Thread starter Devilinurear
- Start date
Devilinurear
Veteran
Yes it and it should not happen what does that have to do this topic.
NobodyReally
Superstar
Yeah, if some woman sucked a bus driver's dyck voluntarily last night I'm sure many regret it.
You say voluntarily but people aren't getting paid off of these confessions. They're not suing, they're not making movies. Basically you're saying that anyone who tells on someone who forced them that they shouldn't have let it happened. I really hope you don't have daughters. This is some fukked up shyt you guys are saying.
And for every woman that you claim is looking for a come up, there are five who aren't speaking up. Work at rape crisis center for one week. These women don't even report, they keep quiet because of the kind of stuff you guys are saying. It just heartbreaking that nothing is really changing and that anyone who reports sexual misconduct, abuse, or assault is being labeled a hoe or liar. It really sends a message to other women about how to act if they are abused.
I'm not gonna go back and forth with you or anyone else, but until you work with victims, you really are just talking from a place of privilege.
KnowledgeDropper
All Star
Aziz is gonna make it
Bob Loblaw
Superstar
Not RAAAAAAAANDY
mastermind
Rest In Power Kobe
My fiancée thinks this is BS because she accepted head from him.
AnonymityX1000
Veteran
In her entire story she didn't even contemplate leaving? She SAID after the forced kissing, fingers in her mouth and groping she stayed and HOPED for comfort from the same guy?! After she came out of the bathroom and he acknowledged 'they both should be having fun' really the night is over. Leave. What are we supposed to think?!
The message I'm trying to send is. If you are assaulted and have a chance to get away fukkin' do it! If you have a chance to bluntly state your feelings when something bad is happening fukkin' do it! If you are being assaulted and you don't like how you are being treated don't perform oral on the perpetrator. This is not the celebrity scenario to take a stand on. This is her version of events and it doesn't even past the smell test. If Aziz ever speaks on it I bet she will look even less of a victim. Aziz is probably a creep but this is not newsworthy.
thenatural
Superstar
1. This nikka Aziz is a creep and none of that shyt he did was normal. She wasn't trying to fukk, and he kept trying. Before I read the article, nikkas made it seem like she sucked him up multiple times and called harassment because he dropped her. Clearly that didn't happen.
2. She should've dipped as soon as he was trying to fukk and she knew she wasn't feeling it. I may be wrong, but nowhere in the article did the young lady say she was scared or fearful. She just assumed that he was going to flip from creep mode in a moment's notice and try to treat this as something more than a night of sex.
3. At first I had a hard time understanding why this was reported, especially when I read she got the acknowledgement and apology from him. But apparently this dude is a serial creep. Forcing yourself on women in bathroom stalls?
4. I wonder what's going to happen to him. Netflix can't essentially fire Spacey and Louis C.K. and just ignore this. They set a precedent.
2. She should've dipped as soon as he was trying to fukk and she knew she wasn't feeling it. I may be wrong, but nowhere in the article did the young lady say she was scared or fearful. She just assumed that he was going to flip from creep mode in a moment's notice and try to treat this as something more than a night of sex.
3. At first I had a hard time understanding why this was reported, especially when I read she got the acknowledgement and apology from him. But apparently this dude is a serial creep. Forcing yourself on women in bathroom stalls?
4. I wonder what's going to happen to him. Netflix can't essentially fire Spacey and Louis C.K. and just ignore this. They set a precedent.
Devilinurear
Veteran
As reported by fader
In September of last year, I met a woman at a party. We exchanged numbers. We texted back and forth and eventually went on a date. We went out to dinner, and afterwards we ended up engaging in sexual activity, which by all indications was completely consensual.
The next day, I got a text from her saying that although “it may have seemed okay,” upon further reflection, she felt uncomfortable. It was true that everything did seem okay to me, so when I heard that it was not the case for her, I was surprised and concerned. I took her words to heart and responded privately after taking the time to process what she had said.
I continue to support the movement that is happening in our culture. It is necessary and long overdue.
-Aziz Ansari
In September of last year, I met a woman at a party. We exchanged numbers. We texted back and forth and eventually went on a date. We went out to dinner, and afterwards we ended up engaging in sexual activity, which by all indications was completely consensual.
The next day, I got a text from her saying that although “it may have seemed okay,” upon further reflection, she felt uncomfortable. It was true that everything did seem okay to me, so when I heard that it was not the case for her, I was surprised and concerned. I took her words to heart and responded privately after taking the time to process what she had said.
I continue to support the movement that is happening in our culture. It is necessary and long overdue.
-Aziz Ansari
Uncle Juice
Pro
Nah, his brand of being the nice woke brown guy who's kinda funny is trash now.
The Humiliation of Aziz Ansari
AnonymityX1000
Veteran
Read the comments other women saying this woman is full of it. lol
"
Puglogic • 44 minutes ago
Excellent article. As a woman who has experienced multiple (REAL) sexual assaults in my life, I respect legitimate complaints coming from the #metoo movement. It's about time. But at what point in interpersonal relationships should a woman be expected to take responsibility for herself? Where did that go? For example the alleged victim has said, "he called me a car" -- what, are your hands painted on? Why didn't you leave? Did he lock you in? Did this diminutive man threaten to hurt you, or destroy your career? You had a bad sexual encounter, one which - a few years ago - would've led a better woman to say, "Oh, man, that guy was a real jerk" and perhaps learn a lesson about how to read the signs of a bad fit sexually and move on. Now, she has the ability to destroy the career of a man who's worked hard to be where he is, all for the crime of misreading her body language. If I were Ansari, I'd be talking to my attorney and fighting back. This was not sexual assault. This was revenge, and this woman should have to take responsibility for what she's done. And grow up, while she's at it. She's making women in general look like a bunch of whiny, helpless liars."
#SnappleFactsB
Holy shyt...The Atlantic just took this whole shyt down 
The Humiliation of Aziz Ansari
The Humiliation of Aziz Ansari
Allegations against the comedian are proof that women are angry, temporarily powerful—and very, very dangerous.
Caitlin FlanaganJan 14, 2018
Sexual mores in the West have changed so rapidly over the past hundred years that by the time you reach 50, intimate accounts of commonplace sexual events of the young seem like science fiction: you understand the vocabulary and the sentence structure, but all of the events take place in outer space. You’re just too old.
This was my experience reading the account of one young woman’s alleged sexual encounter with Aziz Ansari, published by the website Babe this weekend: the world in which it constituted an episode of sexual assault was so far from my own two experiences of near date rape (which took place, respectively, during the Carter and Reagan administrations, roughly in between the kidnapping of the Iran hostages and the start of the Falklands War) that I just couldn’t pick up the tune. But, like the recent New Yorkerstory “Cat Person,”—about a soulless and disappointing hook-up between two people who mostly knew each other through texts—the account has proven deeply resonant and meaningful to a great number of young women, who have responded in large numbers on social media, saying that it is frighteningly and infuriatingly similar to crushing experiences of their own. It is therefore worth reading and, in its way, is an important contribution to the present conversation.
Here’s how the story goes: A young woman, who is given the identity-protecting name “Grace” in the story, was excited to encounter Ansari at a party in Los Angeles, and even though he initially brushed her off, when he saw that they both had the same kind of old-fashioned camera, he paid attention to her and got her number. He texted her when they both got back to New York asking if she wanted to go out, and she was so excited she spent a lot of time choosing her outfit and texting pictures of it to friends. They had a glass of wine at his apartment and then he rushed her though dinner at an expensive restaurant and brought her back to his apartment. Within minutes of returning, she was sitting on the kitchen counter and he was—apparently consensually—performing oral sex on her (here the older reader’s eyes widen, because this was hardly the first move in the “one night stands” of yesteryear), but then went on, per her account, to pressure her for sex in a variety of ways that were not honorable. Eventually, overcome by her emotions at the way the night was going, she told him, “You guys are all the fukking same” and left crying. I thought it was the most significant line in the story: this has happened to her many times before. What led her to believe that this time would be different?
* * *
I was a teenager in the late 1970s, long past the great awakening (sexual intercourse began in 1963, which was plenty of time for me), but as far away from Girl Power as World War I was from the Tet Offensive. The great girl-shaping institutions, significantly the magazines and advice books and novels that I devoured, were decades away from being handed over to actual girls and young women to write and edit, and they were still filled with the cautionary advice and moralistic codes of the 1950s. With the exception of the explicit physical details, stories like Grace’s—which usually appeared in the form of “as told to’s,” and which were probably the invention of editors and the work product of middle-aged, women writers—were so common as to be almost regular features of these cultural products. In fact, the bitterly disappointed girl crying in a taxi muttering “they’re all the same” was almost a trope. Make a few changes to Grace’s story and it would fit right into the narrative of those books and magazines, which would have dissected what happened to her in a pitiless way.
When she saw Ansari at the party, she was excited by his celebrity—“Grace said it was surreal to be meeting up with Ansari, a successful comedian and major celebrity”—which the magazines would have told us was “shallow;” he brushed her off, but she kept after him, which they would have called “desperate;” doing so meant ignoring her actual date of the evening, which they would have called cruel. Agreeing to meet at his apartment—instead of expecting her to come to her place to pick her up—they would have called unwise, ditto drinking with him alone. Drinking, we were told, could lead to a girl’s getting “carried away” which was the way female sexual desire was always characterized in these things—as in, “she got carried away the night of the prom.” As for what happened sexually, the writers would have blamed her completely: what was she thinking, getting drunk with an older man she hardly knew, after revealing her eagerness to get close to him? The signal rule about dating, from its inception in the 1920s to right around the time of the Falklands war, was that if anything bad happened to a girl on a date, it was her fault.
Those magazines didn’t prepare teenage girls for sports or STEM or huge careers; the kind of world-conquering, taking-numbers strength that is the common language of the most middle-of-the road cultural products aimed at today’s girls was totally absent. But in one essential way they reminded us that we were strong in a way that so many modern girls are weak. They told us over and over again that if a man tried to push you into anything you didn’t want, even just a kiss, you told him flat out you weren’t doing it. If he kept going, you got away from him. You were always to have “mad money” with you: cab fare in case he got “fresh” and then refused to drive you home. They told you to slap him if you had to; they told you to get out of the car and start wailing if you had to. They told you to do whatever it took to stop him from using your body in any way you didn’t want, and under no circumstances to go down without a fight. In so many ways, compared with today’s young women, we were weak; we were being prepared for being wives and mothers, not occupants of the C-Suite. But as far as getting away from a man who was trying to pressure us into for sex we didn’t want; we were strong.
Was Grace frozen, terrified, stuck? No. She tells us that she wanted something from Ansari and she was trying to figure out how to get it. She wanted affection, kindness, attention. Perhaps she hoped to maybe even become the famous man’s girlfriend. He wasn’t interested. What she felt afterward—rejected yet another time, by yet another man—was regret. And what she and the writer who told her story created was 3,000 words of revenge porn. The clinical detail in which the story is told is intended not to validate her account as much as it is to hurt and humiliate Ansari. Together, the two women may have destroyed Ansari’s career, which is now the punishment for every kind of male sexual misconduct, from the grotesque to the disappointing.
Twenty-four hours ago—this is the speed at which we are now operating—Aziz Ansari was a man whom many people admired and whose work, although very well paid, also performed a social good. He was the first exposure many young Americans had to a Muslim man who was aspirational, funny, immersed in the same culture that they are. Now he has been—in a professional sense—assassinated, on the basis of one woman’s anonymous account. Many of the college-educated white women who so vocally support this movement are entirely on her side. The feminist writer and speaker Jessica Valenti tweeted, “A lot of men will read that post about Aziz Ansari and see an everyday, reasonable sexual interaction. But part of what women are saying right now is that what the culture considers ‘normal’ sexual encounters are not working for us, and oftentimes harmful.”
I thought it would take a little longer for the hit squad of privileged young white women to open fire on brown-skinned men. I had assumed that, on the basis of intersectionality and all that, they’d stay laser focused on college-educated white men for another few months. But we’re at warp speed now, and the revolution—in many ways so good and so important—is starting to sweep up all sorts of people into its conflagration: the monstrous, the cruel, and the simply unlucky. Apparently there is a whole country full of young women who don’t know how to call a cab, and who have spent a lot of time picking out pretty outfits for dates they hoped would be nights to remember. They’re angry and temporarily powerful and last night they destroyed a man who didn’t deserve it.
The Humiliation of Aziz Ansari
The Humiliation of Aziz Ansari
Allegations against the comedian are proof that women are angry, temporarily powerful—and very, very dangerous.
Caitlin FlanaganJan 14, 2018
Sexual mores in the West have changed so rapidly over the past hundred years that by the time you reach 50, intimate accounts of commonplace sexual events of the young seem like science fiction: you understand the vocabulary and the sentence structure, but all of the events take place in outer space. You’re just too old.
This was my experience reading the account of one young woman’s alleged sexual encounter with Aziz Ansari, published by the website Babe this weekend: the world in which it constituted an episode of sexual assault was so far from my own two experiences of near date rape (which took place, respectively, during the Carter and Reagan administrations, roughly in between the kidnapping of the Iran hostages and the start of the Falklands War) that I just couldn’t pick up the tune. But, like the recent New Yorkerstory “Cat Person,”—about a soulless and disappointing hook-up between two people who mostly knew each other through texts—the account has proven deeply resonant and meaningful to a great number of young women, who have responded in large numbers on social media, saying that it is frighteningly and infuriatingly similar to crushing experiences of their own. It is therefore worth reading and, in its way, is an important contribution to the present conversation.
Here’s how the story goes: A young woman, who is given the identity-protecting name “Grace” in the story, was excited to encounter Ansari at a party in Los Angeles, and even though he initially brushed her off, when he saw that they both had the same kind of old-fashioned camera, he paid attention to her and got her number. He texted her when they both got back to New York asking if she wanted to go out, and she was so excited she spent a lot of time choosing her outfit and texting pictures of it to friends. They had a glass of wine at his apartment and then he rushed her though dinner at an expensive restaurant and brought her back to his apartment. Within minutes of returning, she was sitting on the kitchen counter and he was—apparently consensually—performing oral sex on her (here the older reader’s eyes widen, because this was hardly the first move in the “one night stands” of yesteryear), but then went on, per her account, to pressure her for sex in a variety of ways that were not honorable. Eventually, overcome by her emotions at the way the night was going, she told him, “You guys are all the fukking same” and left crying. I thought it was the most significant line in the story: this has happened to her many times before. What led her to believe that this time would be different?
* * *
I was a teenager in the late 1970s, long past the great awakening (sexual intercourse began in 1963, which was plenty of time for me), but as far away from Girl Power as World War I was from the Tet Offensive. The great girl-shaping institutions, significantly the magazines and advice books and novels that I devoured, were decades away from being handed over to actual girls and young women to write and edit, and they were still filled with the cautionary advice and moralistic codes of the 1950s. With the exception of the explicit physical details, stories like Grace’s—which usually appeared in the form of “as told to’s,” and which were probably the invention of editors and the work product of middle-aged, women writers—were so common as to be almost regular features of these cultural products. In fact, the bitterly disappointed girl crying in a taxi muttering “they’re all the same” was almost a trope. Make a few changes to Grace’s story and it would fit right into the narrative of those books and magazines, which would have dissected what happened to her in a pitiless way.
When she saw Ansari at the party, she was excited by his celebrity—“Grace said it was surreal to be meeting up with Ansari, a successful comedian and major celebrity”—which the magazines would have told us was “shallow;” he brushed her off, but she kept after him, which they would have called “desperate;” doing so meant ignoring her actual date of the evening, which they would have called cruel. Agreeing to meet at his apartment—instead of expecting her to come to her place to pick her up—they would have called unwise, ditto drinking with him alone. Drinking, we were told, could lead to a girl’s getting “carried away” which was the way female sexual desire was always characterized in these things—as in, “she got carried away the night of the prom.” As for what happened sexually, the writers would have blamed her completely: what was she thinking, getting drunk with an older man she hardly knew, after revealing her eagerness to get close to him? The signal rule about dating, from its inception in the 1920s to right around the time of the Falklands war, was that if anything bad happened to a girl on a date, it was her fault.
Those magazines didn’t prepare teenage girls for sports or STEM or huge careers; the kind of world-conquering, taking-numbers strength that is the common language of the most middle-of-the road cultural products aimed at today’s girls was totally absent. But in one essential way they reminded us that we were strong in a way that so many modern girls are weak. They told us over and over again that if a man tried to push you into anything you didn’t want, even just a kiss, you told him flat out you weren’t doing it. If he kept going, you got away from him. You were always to have “mad money” with you: cab fare in case he got “fresh” and then refused to drive you home. They told you to slap him if you had to; they told you to get out of the car and start wailing if you had to. They told you to do whatever it took to stop him from using your body in any way you didn’t want, and under no circumstances to go down without a fight. In so many ways, compared with today’s young women, we were weak; we were being prepared for being wives and mothers, not occupants of the C-Suite. But as far as getting away from a man who was trying to pressure us into for sex we didn’t want; we were strong.
Was Grace frozen, terrified, stuck? No. She tells us that she wanted something from Ansari and she was trying to figure out how to get it. She wanted affection, kindness, attention. Perhaps she hoped to maybe even become the famous man’s girlfriend. He wasn’t interested. What she felt afterward—rejected yet another time, by yet another man—was regret. And what she and the writer who told her story created was 3,000 words of revenge porn. The clinical detail in which the story is told is intended not to validate her account as much as it is to hurt and humiliate Ansari. Together, the two women may have destroyed Ansari’s career, which is now the punishment for every kind of male sexual misconduct, from the grotesque to the disappointing.
Twenty-four hours ago—this is the speed at which we are now operating—Aziz Ansari was a man whom many people admired and whose work, although very well paid, also performed a social good. He was the first exposure many young Americans had to a Muslim man who was aspirational, funny, immersed in the same culture that they are. Now he has been—in a professional sense—assassinated, on the basis of one woman’s anonymous account. Many of the college-educated white women who so vocally support this movement are entirely on her side. The feminist writer and speaker Jessica Valenti tweeted, “A lot of men will read that post about Aziz Ansari and see an everyday, reasonable sexual interaction. But part of what women are saying right now is that what the culture considers ‘normal’ sexual encounters are not working for us, and oftentimes harmful.”
I thought it would take a little longer for the hit squad of privileged young white women to open fire on brown-skinned men. I had assumed that, on the basis of intersectionality and all that, they’d stay laser focused on college-educated white men for another few months. But we’re at warp speed now, and the revolution—in many ways so good and so important—is starting to sweep up all sorts of people into its conflagration: the monstrous, the cruel, and the simply unlucky. Apparently there is a whole country full of young women who don’t know how to call a cab, and who have spent a lot of time picking out pretty outfits for dates they hoped would be nights to remember. They’re angry and temporarily powerful and last night they destroyed a man who didn’t deserve it.
