Monday, 8 September 2014

PERHAPS THIS IS A JOB FOR ISIS'S CRACK BEHEADING TEAM

janay palmer, ray rice, baltimore ravens, ray rice elevator,
HERE'S WIFE BEATER RAY RICE AND HIS NEW BRIDE, JANAY, 
at a press conference in May (or, more pointedly, two months after he goddam near killed her, which would explain the look of sheer wedded bliss on her face). 
 Wikipedia

In a belated but still absurdly tepid about-face, the Baltimore Ravens have suspended woman-beater Ray Rice after seeing horrifying footage of him "allegedly" knocking his fiancee out cold in an elevator. (And I don't know about you, but I am developing a goddam PHOBIA of elevators. Those things are not safe!) 

So, I'm a little confused. Because first of all, what the fuck? I've seen the video (below) and I can't quite grasp why the word "allegedly" is even a factor here. The man punched his beloved in the face, her head hit the handrail on the way down and she appears to be comatose if not downright dead in the moments that follow. Moments during which her attempted killer exhibits not one iota of alarm, let alone remorse, as he hauls her motionless body out of the elevator like she's a bag of trash. 

Jesus everloving Christ: am I missing something here? Are we supposed to applaud the Ravens' nutlicking decision to suspend Rice indefinitely, an amendment to their earlier nutlicking decision in July, which was to give him a two-game suspension? I thought indefinite suspension was what you give to dog-fighters (right before you let them back in again because, meh, we're over it) and cops who kill black kids. What this dude did? This calls for prison. 
So I'm just asking, just suggesting, just putting it out there: WHY THE HELL ISN'T RAYMOND RICE IN PRISON?

EDITOR'S NOTE: Sadly, the fiancee, Janay, is now Rice's wife, but let's not even get started on why she married him after that one. There's a sad, complex and terrifying psychology that goes on in abusive relationships, and that little game of blame-the-victim is exactly what keeps these monsters from ever having to face up to the horror that is their soul. Sometimes you just have to hold a mirror up so they can see it, and by "mirror" I mean Bubba, the face-tatted, really big prison dude who wants you to be his lady for the next five years.  
MY NOTE: He says that like he knows exactly what he's talking about.