#me too movement

[2mo3cm-man]

[elinordash]

“As far as the police report goes, the “matter has been closed,” a spokesperson says. Gaiman’s career, meanwhile, has been marginally affected. A few pending adaptations of his novels and comics have been put on hold or cancelled. But the second season of The Sandman is set to premiere on Netflix this year, as is Anansi Boys on Amazon Prime.”

– Lila Shapiro, There Is No Safe Word: How the best-selling fantasy author Neil Gaiman hid the darkest parts of himself for decades

[and Good Omens starts filming later this month]

THAT’s why we should be boycotting him. That’s why we should be pressuring every studio and every actor to stop working with him. We can’t do anything about the judicial part, but his career should not have just been “marginally affected”; it should have crumbled to pieces.

[animentality]

"think of all the men whose lives are ruined by false rape accusations-"

Harvey Weinstein's conviction got overturned and Bill Cosby isn't even in jail anymore.

and these are people who were unequivocally guilty, literally the highest profile offenders at the height of the MeToo movement.

shut your mouth.

[hersheysmcboom]

[mysharona1987]

[lune-moon-nuit]

These past few days, two words have been circulating everywhere: Jeffrey Epstein.

Of course, it's common knowledge that this billionaire is a pedophile, the head of a vast trafficking ring involving young girls for sexual purposes. I'm not going to list all his actions here. Honestly, I don't even feel capable of doing so, it's all so vile.

What I've been feeling these past few days, faced with the flood of information about the case, is intense dizziness and constant nausea. Nausea because the facts are absolutely horrific. Seeing photos of little girls, young girls, in the hands of these powerful men is absolutely revolting. But out of respect for the victims, I won't share them.

Dizziness because this case seems like a bottomless pit. Seeing all the people involved, directly or indirectly, is absolutely staggering. All these elites who participated in these pedocriminal acts, or who at least condoned them, make you desperately want to throw it all away.

The Epstein files released to the public reveal a great deal. They reveal the scale of a sex trafficking operation facilitated by vast financial resources and total impunity, reinforced by the social standing of all those involved.

They reveal photos and email exchanges, sometimes coded, sometimes highly explicit, which nevertheless only unveil a tiny fraction of the hell endured by hundreds (at least a thousand) of children and young adults.

But there is also everything these files don't reveal, yet are attributed to them.

There are the conspiracy theorists who rejoice in saying "we were right," echoing the infamous Pizzagate theory that a pedophile network existed around John Podesta, Hillary Clinton's former campaign manager. This theory was primarily propagated by Trump supporters to suggest that a pedophile conspiracy had taken place within the American left… The irony is palpable when one considers Trump's (unsurprising) involvement in the Epstein affair.

There were also the antisemites who used Epstein's origins (born into a Jewish family), as well as his proven ties to Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Barak, to revive the infamous racist conspiracy theory that Jews dominate the world.

The diversity of profiles among those involved in the case shows, on the contrary, that anyone can be a pedophile: regardless of gender, religion, origin, political orientation, skin color… Social class? I'll come back to that.

In the same vein of conspiracy theories, we find accusations of Satanism. And this is not insignificant. Often, in cases of sexual abuse that cannot be doubted (because all the evidence is there), explanations are sought. Either through a supposed "madness" or "impaired judgment" of the people involved. Or, when that doesn't hold water, they outright invoke the fantasies of secret cults. The crime is spiritualized; explanations are found in obscurantist narratives.

The banality of evil is rejected in favor of explanations that, while completely far-fetched, seem more satisfying to some than the simple (and horrific) truth.

Of course, all this information circulating on the internet reveals more about us as a society than about what actually happened in this case. In fact, when reality seems so unbearable, it's almost reassuring to want to find outlandish, even paranormal, explanations. It's like perpetuating the idea that pedophiles are monsters. Ultimately, it's a rather primitive reaction, I think. But it's not without its problems.

The reality is that by pathologizing sex offenders, by taking refuge in conspiracy theories, racist narratives, or even Satanic ones, we forget (more or less intentionally) the systemic nature of the situation. That's what these files reveal, but what we don't (see enough) of.

The Epstein case is, in fact, a tragically perfect example of what the accumulation of privilege and power allows. It shows the worst that patriarchy and capitalism can produce. Returning to the topic of class, it obviously played a major role in enabling these crimes to occur on such a large scale for so many years.

However, let's not forget that sexual crimes are committed in absolutely every social class. They are simply facilitated and, above all, more silenced among those who have the means to do so. And, of course, they have the means to buy the justice system to continue committing their horrors. This doesn't mean we can turn a blind eye to everything that happens everywhere except among the elites.

Finally, what these files don't explicitly state, but which should be everywhere, is that this pedophile network could have been dismantled decades ago.

Since 1996 (30 years!), victims of Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell have been alerting the authorities. Jeffrey Epstein was arrested and questioned by the authorities numerous times in recent decades. But it wasn't until 2019 (and #MeToo surely played a role) that he was finally incarcerated, before dying in prison a few weeks later.

What these files scream about, but what goes unheard, is the complicity of an entire society and the silencing of the victims. Because Epstein could never have victimized so many people (over a thousand) if he hadn't been allowed to continue. If victims had been more encouraged to speak out, if the first woman who courageously spoke out had been believed, how many more could have been saved?

The way this case has been handled is a glaring example of the unjust system in which we live. Epstein took advantage of all his privileges to subjugate and abuse vulnerable young girls, relying on their lower social status to silence them.

He was able to leverage his connections with the most powerful men in the world to evade justice, even in death. He will never be brought to justice for his crimes.

Jeffrey Epstein is not a monster. He is a human being shaped by our system, which understood all its flaws and exploited them in the most horrific ways. But he is far from alone. Let's remember that the President of the world's leading power is also accused of very serious sexual violence, including by minors, which did not prevent him from being elected twice as President of the United States.

We know about him too. It's almost always the case. We know, but we say nothing. Why?

The answer is simple, and that's how I will end this (long) post.

Nothing is said because the voices of victims don't count.

What is the testimony of a young teenage girl worth compared to the voice of a rich and powerful man?

And more broadly, what is the value of the voices of women and children compared to those of men?

Absolutely nothing.

Today, things are changing. Because at least they are being heard. But are they being listened to? Still not.

It's everywhere. Powerful men, of course, whom we continue to protect in the name of the "presumption of innocence."

But also all those around us. And whom we also don't want to see.

Children forced to return to their fathers who commit incest… Women sent back to live with their abusers until they are killed…

The Epstein files don't say that it was a global (Jewish) conspiracy or a satanic cult.

The Epstein files reveal the full extent of our system's complicity in protecting powerful men (and a few women) at the expense of their victims.

And they show that even today, impunity persists, even if it is beginning to crumble.

As for me, the ones I think about the most are all those whose faces and bodies were exposed to the world. Those who, barely out of childhood, endured an unspeakable hell, and who have carried on their shoulders for the rest of their lives the weight of irreversible trauma. Those who spoke and were silenced. Those who never dared to say anything. Those who are no longer here to speak for themselves.

They deserve to hear the entire world say sorry. Sorry for not listening. Sorry for not believing you. Sorry for failing to protect you.

Sorry.

[voxina]

April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month, and I’m writing this open letter not to call anyone out, but to invite you in.

The music industry has had several opportunities for a reckoning in recent years. But so far, it’s a reckoning the industry has managed to avoid. What we’ve seen instead are individual moments, isolated legal outcomes, and public spectacles that generate headlines but haven’t produced the systemic change this industry needs. The scrutiny that swept through Hollywood at the height of the #MeToo movement largely passed over the music industry. And while the last few years have heightened that scrutiny, the industry’s response has been mostly silence.

Historically, the legal window for survivors of sexual assault to seek justice was shockingly narrow. On the criminal side, prosecutors in New York had as few as five years to bring charges for most felony sexual assault cases. On the civil side, survivors had just three years to file a lawsuit. In California, the time limit to criminally prosecute cases of rape was within 10 years, and three years to pursue civil action.

For anyone who understands how trauma actually works, how long it can take a survivor to process what happened, to find the language for it, to feel safe enough to come forward, those timelines were never realistic. In 2019, New York extended the criminal statute of limitations to as long as 20 years for certain sex crimes and extended the civil window to 20 years as well. California removed the statute of limitations for prosecuting rape cases entirely in 2016, and gave sexual abuse survivors 10 years to pursue litigation civilly. But none of those changes were retroactive, meaning that anyone whose window had already closed was still locked out of the legal system.

In 2022, the Adult Survivors Act (ASA) in New York state was passed to address that gap. It opened a one-year lookback window, allowing survivors to file civil suits that the previous statute of limitations had barred, regardless of when the abuse occurred. New York City’s Victims of Gender-Motivated Violence Act provided an additional pathway for survivors to file claims. More than 3,500 complaints were filed before the ASA window closed in November 2023, and the music industry was at the center of some of the most high-profile cases. The lawsuits filed under these lookback windows didn’t just expose individual behavior. They exposed systems, institutional silence, and a culture that too often prioritized reputation and revenue over the safety of the people whose lives and labor make the industry thrive.

California followed with the Sexual Abuse and Cover-up Accountability Act, its own lookback window that revived civil claims for sexual assaults with some strings attached. A one-year window for claims prior to 2009 required evidence of an institutional cover-up. A related two-year window for incidents after Jan.1, 2009 was more expansive but was due to close at the end of this year. After the vague wording of the initial law caused mixed results in the courts, California legislators passed a second law, the Justice for Survivors of Sexual Assault Act, which went into effect Jan. 1, 2026.

The new law opened an additional two-year filing window that is fully retroactive, expanding survivors’ ability to hold individual abusers accountable for sexual assault claims, no matter how old, without requiring them to also name a company or allege a cover-up. That window closes on Dec. 31, 2027. These laws aren’t just about courtrooms. They’re about culture. This wave of legislative shifts signals that the legal landscape is looking to provide more realistic pathways to keep up with society’s evolving understanding of the dynamics that enable sexual violence. 

And yet, even with all of these new laws and legal claims, the industry has not had its reckoning. Fame, wealth, and power continue to distort and deny justice. What fandom and pop culture continue to prove is that if someone is talented enough, famous enough, and rich enough, there will always be people willing to ignore that person’s crimes, especially when those crimes are sexual in nature. Nostalgia and stardom have a way of putting people under a spell. I’ve seen it up close. Fame is a special kind of power that gets people to ignore things they would never tolerate from “normal people.” When the person accused is someone whose music is the soundtrack to their lives, the public reaction isn’t outrage. It’s a negotiation. It’s “But I love that song.” Celebrity turns the pursuit of justice into “content.” It turns survivors into characters in someone else’s story. And it gives the industry permission to do what it has always done: wait for the news cycle to pass and move on.

That same power dynamic in the industry operates behind closed doors and away from cameras every day, making the most vulnerable susceptible to manipulation or worse. The gatekeepers who control whether your song gets picked, whether your deal gets signed, or whether you get invited back into potentially life-changing rooms hold a level of influence that extends well beyond the professional reach. And in an industry where so much happens informally — in studios late at night, at private events where the lines between business and social disappear — the opportunities for abuse of power are everywhere.

The music industry runs on collaboration. It runs on trust. A songwriter walks into a session with a producer they may have never met. An artist meets with an executive in a closed-door meeting to discuss a deal that could change their life. A young executive shows up on day one wanting nothing more than to prove they belong. Every one of these moments requires an environment where people feel safe enough to create, negotiate, learn, and say no without consequence. We all know that environment doesn’t always exist. And too many of us have looked the other way.

A 2024 global study by MIDiA Research, TuneCore, and Believe surveyed more than 4,100 music creators and professionals across 133 countries and found that three in five women in the music industry have experienced sexual harassment, and one in five have experienced sexual assault. More than 70 percent of those women did not report it, citing fear of retaliation and a belief that nothing would change. And for the women who did come forward, the outcomes weren’t much better. Fifty-six percent said their claims were ignored or dismissed, and nearly one-third were told to keep quiet.

So why hasn’t anything changed? Part of the answer is structural.

One of the biggest differences between the film industry and the music industry is organization. Hollywood has unions, guilds, and collective bodies that represent workers across the business. When the #MeToo movement began, those structures didn’t lead the charge, but they gave the movement somewhere to land and became vehicles for new codes of conduct, reporting systems, and protections. The music industry doesn’t have those same structures, but that doesn’t mean we’re powerless. It means we have to build differently. You don’t need a union to be unified. You don’t need to collectively bargain to have a collective consciousness. Keeping people safe in the rooms where music gets made is a human rights issue, and it should be something every company in this business can come to the table about.

The last few years have made this impossible to ignore. We have watched the federal prosecution and conviction of one of the most powerful figures in music history on charges tied to the exploitation of people inside his own organization. We have watched survivors come forward publicly, at tremendous personal cost, to tell stories that too many people in this business already knew. 

And still, the question remains: what are the companies doing about it? Not the individuals. The companies. The record labels, music publishers, management firms, studios, and agencies. The institutions that fund the careers, expand the platforms, and decide what behavior gets addressed and what gets ignored.

[full article here]

[brilliantbillionstars]

There’s two options in this election

1. We get enough voter turnout and Kamala wins: this means that our fundamental human rights are protected and least there’s a good chance at stopping the genocide of Palestinians.

2. We don’t get enough voter turnout and Trump wins: the genocide is GUARANTEED to continue AND America becomes a dystopian nightmare.

There is no third option. RFK Jr. doesn’t stand a chance. This is it. I agree that in lower stakes elections we should try to encourage third party voting. Even then, it will take multiple elections for it to work. This election it’s an exercise in futility to vote third party. It will save no one.

Boycotting the voting booths saves no one. Boycotting the voting booths won’t save a single Palestinian. At least we can guarantee we save ourselves long enough to help others if we get Kamala in office. At least we have a chance of stopping genocide if we get Kamala in office. It is not selfish to vote for Kamala, it is the best thing we can do four our country.