Instagram should be a place where women can post selfies after sexual assault (The Independent)

This article contains discussion of rape.

When did you last scroll through Instagram and roll your eyes at a picture of a takeaway coffee cup or a particularly well-constructed stack of pancakes?

They are the mundane images that make Instagram famous, remarkable only in their banality. If it’s a platform for documenting our everyday lives, predictable as they may be, it’s one on which anti-rape activist Amber Amour’s posts recording her assault and its aftermath should be nothing out of the ordinary. … Read More

Consent must never exist only in the eye of the beholder

Nothing of much importance or concern happened in the news last week, so I expect you all to be fully up-to-date on everyone’s favourite joykill D-Cam and his new proposals to block internet porn via an opt-out filter. Yes, opt-out – cue awkward conversations in university halls all over the country: “so, er, about that porn filter…”. Not being well-versed in the technological implications of such a filter, and having had the censorship row until I’m blue in the face, I want to instead focus on the FEMINIST angle of this story because I’m boring and fun-spongey like that. More specifically, I want to focus on the consent angle because it’s everyone’s favourite feminist topic, right? Except Dave’s apparently, for reasons which will hopefully become clear throughout this article. … Read More

Why I’d rather be a funge than a frapist

I have a theory that you can measure how bizarre or morally dubious something is by trying to explain it to a small child, or a proper grown-up, and monitoring their reaction. Really, parliamentary debates and campaign videos in support of equal marriage should probably just be waived in favour of a close-up shot of a four-year-old, wide-eyed, eyebrows furled, wailing “but what do you MEAN people who love each other can”t get married?”. My theory was tested again the other day when I found myself trying to explain the term “frape” to my dissertation supervisor, who incidentally hadn’t heard of UniLad either until she agreed to help me. Sorry supervisor. … Read More