As the number of women accusing Bill Cosby of drugging and raping or sexually assaulting them over the decades continues to grow, including another today, public sentiment has fully turned against the formerly beloved and powerful entertainer. But, as anyone who’s spent more than a day on the internet will tell you, that pendulum swing only means plenty of space available for an enterprising blogger to whip together a truly execrable contrarian hot take. Bloggers like The Wrap’s Richard Stellar, who posted a universally reviled victim-blaming rapist apologia couched in the guise of a media critique over the weekend.
The title of the piece, originally The Rape of Bill Cosby, has since been changed, as The Wrap’s Sharon Waxman explains in a editor’s note. Stellar has also affixed a lengthy disclaimer of sorts to the beginning of his piece.
As if the belittling title itself wasn’t bad enough, the opening sentence sets an even grosser tone:
Bill Cosby raped me.
Now that I have your attention, consider this: the allegations of sexual misadventure and impropriety that have pummeled the Cos over the last few weeks is not the issue. The issue is the scurrilous environment where media outlets and journalists lie in wait, like aging corpulent prostitutes, their hair dyed flame red and their nails like elongated daggers — waiting to blow any John who dares to topple those who may be kings. It’s once again an example of the TMZ-isation of journalism.
Surprisingly, a man with such a vivid imagination for prostitutes doesn’t get much more likable from there.
The media, you see, is bad, Stellar says, which is all well and good. But in his effort to highlight the way we all are quick to convict people in the court of social media now, he belies his true feelings about what’s going on in a case like this:
The recollections of events that happened as long as fifty years ago are dredged up by aging actresses who have one eye on the CNN camera, and the other on a book or reality show deal. If the statute of limitations was as long as the 15 minutes of fame that these lost souls are trying to recapture, then our prisons would be as vacant as the Holiday Inn in Acapulco (you probably have no idea what that means because you’re not used to real news). Thankfully, the statute of limitations was written to avoid exactly what this blog is about. There is no legitimacy to justice if there is no real evidence, and evidence has a way of vanishing as memories dim with the marching of time. A DNA swab on most of Cosby’s detractors if done today would most likely come up exceedingly dry.
In other words, these women, now nearing twenty, if it hasn’t passed that mark while I write this, are just in it for the money and fame. That sweet, sweet Famous Guy Raped Me shine that has led to so many successful careers over the years.
Unbelievably, it keeps getting worse and worse as it goes on. Why didn’t the women come forward then, rape apologists like Stellar always want to know. (Curiously, by the way, he wrote a piece about Woody Allen last year that took the exact opposite approach).
Maybe it’s because they didn’t think people would believe them? Maybe because they knew that if they said anything, people like Stellar, and the many vocal defenders of Cosby that still, somehow, exist out there, would question their motives and would accuse them of being the real wrongdoers here, greedy, grasping, desperate.
That’s how it so often works throughout history. You get raped, which is bad enough, but then the real indignities begin when you come forward. You’re not just a victim, you’re looking to profit off of the crime. Anyone who gets raped by a famous person then, is nothing but a whore.