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I'm so angry about the Duke Rape ordeal that I've fumed the day away (ah, where is my vacation apathy, when I need it?). For everything you need to know about this travesty of justice go visit KC Johnson's site. You'll experience rage, too. Why am I angry? Let me count the ways:
- I'm imagining being the mother to a boy who was on his way to Wall-Street but some two-bit ho and an insane, power-hungry prosecutor ruined that possibility for him.
- I'm imagining the gazillions being spent by the families to defend their boys for a crime they almost certainly did not commit.
- I'm imagining, as an athlete, sitting out a potentially national-championship season--the culmination of a lifetime of hard work and discipline for nothing.
- I'm imagining the sense of betrayal that no teacher, administrator, coach, no one, stood for waiting for the facts of the case came to light before condemning.
- I'm imagining the sorrow at not one person, save parents and close friends, defending the honor of these boys.
- I'm imagining having to see my son's mug shot over and over and over and hearing untruthful assertions from the mouth of The Law over and over and over, and not being able to say anything.
- I'm imagining an innocent black, white or purple girl raped and too afraid to report it because no one will believe her because of cases like this.
- I'm imagining the disrespect, the diminishing trust, already given to our judicial process. Has justice descended to this?
Will they ever get their good names back? Doubtful.