Oh, Great, Now I Need a Permanent Alibi

So apparently my physically harmless, civilly disobedient, one-man protest at the MetLife campus on June 14 has left a number of my former colleagues traumatized and fearing for their personal safety. In several sworn affidavits submitted by MetLife last week on their behalf, four of them affirmed things like like:

“…I feel targeted by Mr. Scholten and fear for my personal safety.”

“…I fear for my personal safety and the safety of my family.”

“…this post [a reference to this post], coupled with the fact that Mr. Scholten broke into MetLife and came specifically to the executive offices, cause me to fear for my safety…more importantly, I fear for the safety of the MetLife employees….”

Now, because I know for a fact that I pose absolutely no threat whatsoever to the personal safety of any human being, MetLife employee or not, at first I had serious doubts about the sincerity of these highly defamatory allegations. But in a hearing yesterday at the Wake County Courthouse in Raleigh I had the chance to face three of my accusers, and after watching them testify I must say that I now have no doubt whatsoever that these folks are frightened.

My sister had come with me to the hearing and the two of us did what we could to reassure them that I am harmless and that they are safe, but in the end it was all for nothing because the District Judge granted MetLife’s request for a 1-year No Contact Order Pursuant to the Workplace Violence Prevention Act which imposes on me a long and fundamentally useless list of restrictions that…

1. Cannot possibly make me any more harmless than I already am.

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Hmmm. How could we make this cute little duckling even more harmless? Image Credit: Pixabay

I am already harmless, and these restrictions won’t make me any more so. I have no history of violence; no interest in violence; I own no guns nor weaponry of any kind; nor do I know or practice any martial arts (karate, boxing, etc.). I don’t even play violent video games. Once a gun has been unloaded, disassembled, and melted down into scrap metal, really the only thing left is to cast a magic spell over it. That’s really all this No Contact Order is: just a worthless magic spell that the Judge has cast over an already harmless person in order to make him harmless.

2. Cannot possibly even make me seem anymore harmless than I already do.

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Would this gargoyle seem less frightening with a nice coat of paint? Next to some flowers? With a duckling on its head? Image Credit: Pixabay

These folks are truly frightened and confused. Of course, they’re not really frightened of me, but rather their misunderstanding of me. I am not their misunderstanding of me. Their misunderstanding of me is an imaginary bogeyman who is so deranged that he intends to harm them, and I am absolutely not that guy. But if he’s truly that deranged, then surely he won’t let some court order stop him in his blood-thirsty quest to hurt them.

These folks aren’t thinking straight. They all believe that on the afternoon of June 14 their bogeyman stood right next to them while they were working. It was actually just me, of course, but were I really as dangerous as they imagine their bogeyman to be, they’d all be injured or dead right now. The fact that they aren’t proves that I’m not their scary bogeyman. But their fear blocks them from seeing it that way. Maybe they think that the visit on June 14 was just a warm-up. Maybe they think their bogeyman was just there on some sort of reconnaissance mission and that now that he understand the lay of the land, he’ll be coming back for the real kill.

What’s more, this court order only protects them at the MetLife campus. What if their imaginary bogeyman visits them at home? Or what if he ambushes them while they’re sitting at a traffic light on the way to work? Of course I — the utterly harmless real me who is definitely not their bogeyman — would never do anything like that, but they have no idea that the real me actually exists. For all they know their bogeyman is an extremely clever sociopath who truly exists, but who is pretending to be a harmless autistic person who has merely been misunderstood as a dangerous sociopath, etc., etc.

This is not reasoning. This is just rampant, ignorance-fueled imagination run amok, and the No Contact Order can do nothing to get it under control.

3. Makes it impossible for them to get to know the real me.

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These giraffes look pretty friendly. I wish they would get to know me better and see that I’m friendly too. Image Credit: Pixabay

One of the best ways to get over any irrational fear is to choose to encounter the very thing that frightens you. Obviously that won’t work if you’re afraid of jelly fish or hungry sharks, but as long as what frightens you is harmless (like me), then the more you interact with it and see that no harm comes to you, the safer you will feel in its presence.

Really, the only way to help these people with their fears is to give them the opportunity to face them, which is now prohibited by law. These folks desperately need to get to know the real me, at least well enough to see that I’m not their bogeyman, that I’m harmless to them. But because of this No Contact Order, such an encounter is now impossible.

4. Means I now require a permanent alibi.

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I’m fresh out of excuses! Image Credit: ShutterStock

With this No Contact Order in place, I need a permanent alibi. For the next year at least, if anything happens to any of these people and which is even remotely mysterious, I am going to be suspect number 1. If one of them gets a mysterious flat tire I can be promptly arrested, booked, charged, and tried — even if I’m totally innocent. Even if I do have an alibi, that won’t help until after I’ve already been arrested, booked, and charged. Then the real investigation will begin and the alibi will exonerate me. But if I don’t have an alibi, then what?

Because of this fundamentally useless No Contact Order, I now need a permanent alibi. And something tells me that “Sorry, your honor, I’m autistic” won’t cut it.

I really don’t understand the purpose of this No Contact Order. Is the goal to ensure the objective safety of these individuals? Or is the goal merely to help them to feel subjectively safe. Although these are not mutually exclusive outcomes, in the end, being safe and feeling safe are really two different things. For example, many people are afraid to fly in an airplane, but feel perfectly safe in a car, which is objectively much more dangerous. Many people dread kittens, while others have no fear of texting while driving. Further, the pharmaceutical industry makes a ton of money selling anti-anxiety medications to people seeking relief from anxiety that they themselves know has no function whatsoever.

The fact is that fear is an unreliable indicator of objective danger, just as feeling safe is an unreliable indicator of objective safety. The one simply does not imply nor guarantee the other, and in any case, this No Contact Order will achieve neither goal, for the reasons described above.

 

Not To Steal, But To Help Make More Thunder: My Pledge To Every Rape Victim

Dear Rape Victim,

Although as a child I did endure my share of sexual abuse by adults — the worst of which was when I got my genitals groped by a grown man who had hired me to sweep the floors of his costume shop after school (I was maybe eleven or twelve when it happened) — the truth is that I’ve never actually been raped in the way that you have been.

Recently however I have been writing and talking a great deal about having been “gang raped” last year, always taking care to clarify that I am using this term only as a metaphor for what actually happened — in fact a lengthy series of events which may actually have begun as far back as August, 2016 and which may indeed still be occurring even today, although I have summarized what might be considered the most critical events in a nine part Open Letter to A Certain EEOC Deputy District Director. I invite you to read that post if you feel the inclination to do so.

But the gist of it all is that I believe that it can be proven to a jury that roughly a dozen employees of the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company (“MetLife”), along with a partner at the law firm Seyfarth Shaw, LLP, and at least 3 employees of the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC), violated at least one particular Federal Statute falling within the Investigative Jurisdiction of the FBI, thus abruptly transforming me into the victim of that violation.

Known as “Title 18 U.S. Code Section 241 — Conspiracy against rights“, this law empowers a sentencing authority to impose a maximum prison sentence of 10 years and/or a maximum fine of $10,000.00 in the event that any “two or more persons conspire to injure, oppress, threaten, or intimidate any person in any State, Territory, Commonwealth, Possession, or District in the free exercise or enjoyment of any right or privilege secured to him by the Constitution or laws of the United States, or because of his having so exercised the same.”

Now, in my opinion, rape is a terrible metaphor in general, and really one should never, ever compare anything else to rape, unless that thing is actually an example of real rape. So, for example, I do think it’s entirely reasonable to view what that grown man did to my youthful private parts as a kind of rape — maybe “hand rape”; I think the phrase “rape of Nanjing” is reasonable, by virtue of the fact that so many women residents of the province got raped by invading Japanese soldiers; and I think the phrase “date rape” is reasonable, because, again, it is referring to a genuine rape.

But it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if you or anyone else were to object to my own recent decision to use gang rape as a metaphor for what I endured as a result of the aforementioned Conspiracy against rights violation. I would completely understand if you were to find the comparison far too weak to fall into the domain of any sort of reasonable use of rape as a point of comparison. If you were to think that I was “being ridiculous”, or “out of line”, or “over the top”, or “blowing things out of proportion”, or “being a drama queen”, or in any way exaggerating at all, I must admit that I couldn’t fault you for doing so.

Especially if you were to suspect me of trying to manipulate the sympathies of others, or of trying to “steal thunder”, so to speak, from the survivors of real rape; I could never blame you or anyone for thinking like that.

But as much as I could understand why you would feel pretty much the same skepticism toward this decision that I myself felt up until just recently, I wish nonetheless to beg your pardon while I try to explain here that I have managed to completely satisfy my own skepticism, at least, and in particular to reassure you that manipulating sympathy is absolutely not my intention.

To be clear: it is not sympathy that I am asking for here, but rather what I am offering to you. I’m not asking for your validation of my rape ordeal, but rather I am offering you my own validation of yours. I am truly sorry that it took getting raped (so to speak) myself to realize just how serious rape actually is — and also how awfully commonplace it is, and normal and casually disregarded by all of the people who have somehow never been raped themselves.

Basically, I wish to inform you that whether you want it or not, whether you need it or not, nevertheless I am here for you. I have your back. I’m on your team. I hereby pledge my allegiance to your safety and well-being, and to the safety and well-being of everyone you love. I see myself as your friend, your ally, and believe it or not even your student. I wish to learn from you, if I am able. And if you will allow me to do so, I wish to try and help you, however I can, and in any way you think you need.

If you don’t already, please know that you are not alone — nope, not if I can help it. Sister, brother, whoever you may be, I’m pretty sure I get it now. Sorry it took me so long, but here I am, better late than never, I hope.

I am utterly at your service.

Sincerely,

The Walrus