Why I Endorse Bernie Sanders

By Cornel West, Cornel West's Facebook Page

25 August 15

hy I Endorse Brother Bernie and Reject Brother Trump.

The American Empire is in decline. Our market-driven culture is in decay. The criminal justice system has failed us. And the political system is collapsing due to the weight of corrupt lobbyists and greedy capitalists. Only organized power of courageous and compassionate people can turn around these catastrophic realities. Social movements in the streets and jails over against the Establishment in both decrepit political parties are fundamental. And prophetic politicians -- always with their faults and blind spots -- who tell the truth about Wall Street, white supremacy, empire, patriarchy and homophobia, deserve our critical support. Yet even more important is the issue of integrity.

Brother Bernie and Brother Trump are authentic human beings in stark contrast to their donor-driven opponents. Yet only Bernie has authenticity and integrity, whereas Trump is for real but not for right. Trump's attacks on precious Mexican brothers and sisters are unconscionable -- even as his blessed mother was born in Scotland and grandfather (Mr. Drumpf) was born in Germany. His kind of nativistic hostility could have excluded them. And Trump's unpatriotic complicity with the plutocratic corruption of our political system for over 30 years calls into question his integrity, including his commitment to "make America great again."

My endorsement of Brother Bernie in the primaries is not an affirmation of the neo-liberal Democratic Party or a downplaying of the immorality of the ugly Israeli occupation of Palestinians. I do so because he is a long-distance runner with integrity in the struggle for justice for over 50 years. Now is the time for his prophetic voice to be heard across our crisis-ridden country, even as we push him with integrity toward a more comprehensive vision of freedom for all.

Ring the Alarm: A No-Nonsense Warning on the Rise of Rape Culture

By Amanda Marcotte, Slate

25 August 15

ape culture: As far as feminist jargon goes, it’s a phrase that’s up there with patriarchy or male privilege in creating a surefire deflection response in broad swaths of the public. But in her new book Asking for It: The Alarming Rise of Rape Culture—and What We Can Do About It, writer Kate Harding doesn’t hide from the term, employ euphemism, or otherwise mollycoddle her audience. In placing the words rape culture front and center in both her title and first sentence, she sets the tone for the rest of her book, a no-nonsense examination of sexual violence in modern America and the widespread cultural complicity that exists around it, whether we want to admit it or not.

In 2009, Harding published Lessons From the Fat-o-Sphere, in which she and co-author Marianne Kirby debunked the cherished myth that fat people can, with just some willpower and a pair of running sneakers, transform themselves permanently into thin people. Now Harding applies that finely honed impatience with bullshit to another great American myth: that we rate rape as a terrible crime and punish it with ferocity. The reality, as Harding details in chapter after chapter, is that rapists generally go unpunished, victims are blamed, and everyone from cable news pundits to TV show writers continues to be confused about the difference between consensual sex and rape, which isn’t actually confusing.

As Harding regularly points out, the explosion of online feminist discourse, as well as the growth in anti-rape activism on campus and elsewhere, has created a continuous public dialogue about rape and sexual assault. That dialogue has led to actual changes both on a cultural level and in policy, as more states start adopting “affirmative consent” standards on campus. But Asking for It serves as a useful reminder of why we still need books—even nonfiction books—in the age of the Internet. Just the sheer volume of stories and examples Harding collects in one place is disquieting and extremely convincing in a way that getting it in pieces through the day-to-day grind of Internet reading will never accomplish.

To be clear, this book is not a chronicle of depressing stories of sexual assault, which would be a miserable read. Harding isn’t here simply to register the existence of crime; she is working as a cultural critic, focusing on the cultural response to and understanding of sexual assault more than the crimes themselves.

Luckily for the reader, Harding has a wicked sense of humor. In response to people who claim that sexual consent is confusing and that it’s hard to know when a woman is saying no, for instance, Harding writes:

Pop quiz: Do the following responses mean yes or no?

1. I’d love to, but I already have plans.


2. Sweet of you to offer, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it.


3. Oh geez, maybe another time?


4. I so wish I could!

“Without knowing what your answers were, I can tell you with complete confidence that if you have the capacity to read this book, you just got 100 percent,” she concludes. In a debate where a lot of people say, with a completely straight face, that consent is ambiguous and that it’s hard to tell the difference between someone who can’t wait to have sex with you and someone who is trying to let you down easily, Harding models a no-nonsense approach.

Not that she shies away from knottier issues, especially when it comes to false rape reporting. One of the strongest chapters in this book is the one where Harding addresses concerns about due process and false rape reporting, taking an unflinching look at what, exactly, causes women to file false rape reports and what they look like.

The typical false reporter, she explains, is not “an evil minx who wraps the entire justice system around her little finger, just to hurt some poor, innocent man.” Instead, a false reporter will more likely claim a stranger rape, and because her story is more lurid and sympathetic that the “typical rape cases” involving alcohol and a victim who knows her assailant, the false reporter will end up getting more attention—and more sympathy—than the vast majority of reporters who tell the truth.

This chapter invariably brings to mind the fiasco over the Rolling Stone’s story about sexual assault at the University of Virginia, which was retracted after it was discovered the centerpiece of the story, an alleged fraternity gang rape, was likely fabricated by just such an attention-seeking and troubled young woman, “Jackie.” Perhaps if Rolling Stone writer Sabrina Rubin Erdely and her editors had read Harding’s book, they would have spotted the red flags in Jackie’s story.

The debate over rape and rape culture can be legitimately baffling because there are a lot of bad actors in our public discourse who deliberately stoke myths about the ambiguity of consent or the vengeance fantasies of feminists. All that noise can be crippling for journalists, politicians, and activists. Asking for It offers a solid grounding and a whole lot of clarity that can help cut through that noise, making it a critical primer for anyone who wants to fight the ongoing problem of sexual assault.