Trigger Warning: Discussions of sexual violence below.
Dear Cee Lo,
Dude, seriously? I am so disappointed in your actions that I almost don’t even know where to begin. You have just gotten off from some charges stemming from a 2012 accusation of sexual assault. And rather than quietly going off into the night as one might expect, you have proceeded to open your mouth and stuff your entire foot into in it in your rush to defend yourself. But your “righteous indignation” sounds more like the unreasonable rants of a guilty person.
First, let’s set the record straight, because your “definition” of rape not only leaves much to be desired, it’s also patently wrong. The Oxford English Dictionary defines “rape” as the following:
“Originally and chiefly: the act or crime, committed by a man, of forcing a woman to have sexual intercourse with him against her will, esp. by means of threats or violence. In later use more generally: the act of forced, non-consenting, or illegal sexual intercourse with another person; sexual violation or assault.”
It’s pretty clear. The OED has even given us historical context. But I know you don’t need this definition. You might be acting thick, but I know that you have more sense than God gave a goat. But, oh no, you want to get on the social media act a complete fool. Case in point, when you tweeted this gem of wisdom:
“If someone is passed out they’re not even WITH you consciously…People who have really been raped REMEMBER!!!”
What in the entire everlasting fuck?
Rape is inextricably tied to issues of consent. You don’t have to get hit over the head or be held up at knifepoint to be sexually assaulted. You can be assaulted in your bedroom by a family member, friend, or boo. You can get assaulted while drunk at a party. You could be kicking it with someone and they can slip you some ecstasy. Whatever the case may be there are, unfortunately, lots of ways to get raped, but it is never, ever, ever, the victim’s fault. Never. We are not entitled to other people’s bodies even if they are WITH us, as you have stated—even if they accept our rides, come to our homes, wear a short skirt, get naked, smoke that shit, hit that blunt, pop a molly, or engage in any number of other activities. Period.
Look, I’ve been a fan of your work for years—since Goodie Mob—and I don’t doubt your musical genius. That does not matter today, in this moment. What you did was defend rape and there is no excuse for that. And I know your supporters and other apologists for rape culture (I’m looking at you, dear Whoopi) will be quick to defend you. So be it. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t take you to task for what I know ain’t right. Oh, and that half-assed apology was for the birds. Try again.
Plus, now there is a woman out there being talked about, dragged through the mud, while she is trying to heal. All the while the public, myself included, have been more focused on your shenanigans. This has got to stop.
Educate yourself. Watch No! The Rape Documentary. Read Yes Means Yes. Support rape crisis centers and other organizations that support rape survivors, such as A Long Walk Home, with your coins. Think energetically about consent and what it means. Stop blaming victims and survivors. Get a therapist. Talk to your God. Whatever it takes, but get your shit together.
With a thousand side eyes,