in all of the available venues. on the professional blog. in a draft of a talk i'm giving in two weeks. in the powerpoint for that talk. in a draft of a journal article i think i'm going to submit at the end of the month. in the dumpster fire word doc where i've been dumping for the last five years, working over all of the pieces that are spilling out everywhere else now.
and yet it still isn't enough.
i know i need to be writing about victim blaming.
writing about how what it is that i am actually talking about at this point isn't just how kardashian grabbed the narratives available to her after the assault in paris in october 2016. but how those narratives blamed her and how her recounting of her own experience was shaped by that blame.
to the extent that, in april 2017, she told ellen degeneres she was grateful for the experience.
talking to debo earlier today, i complained that there were no documentaries or books on the william kennedy smith rape trial.
maybe that's my next book, i said and even as the words came out of my mouth i felt that sensation settling in my guts. the sensation of having just had an idea from which it will not be easy to escape.
the sensation of the story sinking its teeth into your brain matter.
even over the phone, debo's horror was palpable.
earlier today, canvasing the internet for photos to use for my kardashian powerpoint, i found an image of a halloween costume from october 2016. it was eventually pulled from the market so maybe there's hope for humanity. but while it lasted, for $69, you could get a costume that would enable you to pay homage to the violence kim kardashian experienced in paris on 3 october 2016.
i cannot stop thinking about the nastiness of this, the cruelty.
i do not have the words for what i need to say.