Indeed it is. Everyone involved in the whole sordid affair — skeptics, Elevator Guy himself, Rebecca Watson, and eleventh-rate bloggers on the periphery of the flamewar — eventually got so tired of it that they all agreed to put that sorry mess behind them. Especially Rebecca.
And yet, it’s widely agreed that Rebecca Watson is not only the face of modern skepticism, she’s a central figure in American feminism. Feminism without Rebecca Watson is like hot dogs without mustard, Destiny’s Child without Beyonce, Conan O’Brien without Andy, the Yankees without Jeter. You get the point. Watsonistas with a direct line to the Watsonist inner circle have heard rumblings for some time now, whispers that feminism’s reluctant hero might be persuaded to once again return to the spotlight she loathes for the sake of the cause.
This week, it really happened. Although she’s avoided publicity for some time, Rebecca Watson finally agreed to give thousands of feminists what they want, and recalled Elevatorgate in all its uncomfortable detail with a comprehensive piece in Slate. The reception was astounding, the applause thunderous. Feminism’s shining light was once again expelling the shadows from the dark corners of skeptic conferences and comic conventions. Men were getting called the fuck out.
But we couldn’t help but notice that out of some eight thousand sympathetic comments, 14 of them featured rodential men making rape threats. And so we think it’s time we revisited Rebecca’s testimony on July 9, 2011, when she finally broke her silence for the first time and, at the prompting of her co-hosts, spent three hours and seven minutes talking about Elevatorgate on the Skeptic’s Guide to the Universe podcast.
You don’t know what it’s like to be Rebecca Watson. You don’t know what it’s like to see a convention floor as a terrifying expanse of blue ocean, with every dick in the room pointed at you, circling like sharks and waiting for any sign of weakness, any subtle cue to unleash phallic violence on the indigo-haired vixen of their wet dreams. She’s wearing heels, so she can’t run! Rape time, motherfucker. When she gets into an elevator or steps outside for a smoke after sundown, it’s on.
We here at the Rebecca Watson fanclub invite those disgusting men to read the following quote before reflecting on the fear they strike in women:
Depending on how far I have to walk or whether or not I’m going to be walking alone, I will choose high heels or flats. If there’s a chance that I’m going to be walking for an extended period alone, I will always go with flats. Why? So I can run, just in case. There are tons of things like that that I do every day that hadn’t even occurred to me before that are purely things I have to do to protect myself from being raped. Because we teach women that it’s their job to not get raped. And so I hope that by pointing these things out, we do help men understand.