The Blog

What Has Humanity Come to in a Week? Social Media Pornography

Two reflections in the media that makes some parts of humanity seem as perverse as a creepy stranger peering down your top. They both involved sexual acts. They both involve social media. One of the instances involves rape.

Two reflections in the media that makes some parts of humanity seem as perverse as a creepy stranger peering down your top. They both involved sexual acts. They both involve social media. One of the instances involves rape.

I woke up on Saturday morning to my Twitter feed of news exclaiming outrage about a sweet-faced, young British girl doing to unspeakable. Literally, she was unable to speak for a few minutes as her mouth was filled; not, with words of protest against the attacks in Gaza or full of English Shakespearian poetry, but with male genitalia. All 24 male wiggly bits in her mouth in less than three minutes.

Magaluf. I have to condemn the men also in this decadent parade. Their penises got fame but they can still go out and have a normal life, whilst the female in the equation gets verbally stoned through social media.

So, it seems all the males in this seemly dramatic climax have a plastically-protected future; a little bit of slap and tickle in Magaluf being high-fived by society. This same seemingly generous hand is being used to slap the woman involved across the face multiple times.

What a metaphor this is for our society right now

The fact the video was filmed and put on social media without her permission is like an ex-boyfriend uploading his amateur fantasies. Or, it is like 24 'ex-boyfriends' abandoning this girl when she is shoved on an international stage of shame. The guy who filmed this video of a teenager's mistakes, is also a disgrace in my opinion. This is not journalism of any sort, this is a witch hunt for fresh young blood. Specifically of the female sex.

I'm not saying we as a society don't need to know what our adult kids are doing, especially when they go to Magaluf. We need to know how our country is being represented internationally. We just don't need to see a video to represent how bad that perception is.

The second thing that really got me wanting to dissociate myself from humanity this week is the #jadapose hashtag craziness. A beautiful 16-year-old female has shown herself to be beyond strong as she spoke to the media regarding her recent rape attack. Not only was she drugged and raped by someone she trusted, but she had to go through the humiliation of her exposed female body being posted on social media.

Sick individuals who do not even deserve to call themselves human due to their sociopathic divide from compassion, then mocked her passed out naked figure by posing in the same way. At this point I am speechless. Jada to me today is on the same page as Ghandi as she is able to endure so much pain of injustice and still hold dignity and beauty.

I am getting sick of living in a world where we are so switched off to another person's emotions and suffering. I'm sick of countries bombing other countries like there aren't real people living in those monopoly houses underneath. I'm sick of people bombing another's peaceful soul.

Just as I am wanting to give up on humanity for good and go and live in a warm igloo somewhere, my frail old grandma walks into my room as I am writing. I put down my iPad for a second. She starts to tell me the stories I have heard years before, many, many times. She tells it like it is the very first time. I hear it like that too.

She recalls the struggle of coming to England from Trinidad, to be a nurse, and the harsh decisions made from unforgiving consequences. She described how was she forced to make a life for herself following her failed marriage which was an uproar in those days. She talked about her career that she retired from only weeks ago at the tender age of 75.

As she speaks, I'm starting to remember the time at the age of 74 when she carried a two seater sofa up a flight of stairs, and when I questioned her about it, her giving me a look, saying, "You must think I'm a weak old lady, I'm super-nan."

As, she finishes telling her numerous stories, which I will tell to my grandchildren one day, I remember the beauty of humanity again.

I remember, at eight, my grandmother encouraging me to write a story for her.

The weak who are strong.

Jada, the way she fights this disease of a hatred mentality with love, courage and visible strength.

The unassuming are powerful.

My grandma, the way she fights this life with honour, dignity and sharing stories.

I look at these amazing women and remind myself never to lose my love and hope for humanity again.

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