Hello friends and colleagues of the "Google blogger" government data collection services program. Dragline speaking. Normally I don't like to regale you guys with tales of my Everyday Heroism, but you won't believe what happened to me today. For the TL;DR crowd: I was arrested for trying to save a woman's life.
So I'm out there in the wild (Walmart) when I see a victim (or, "woman," as they're called in my native tongue) standing in a checkout lane. I see her face is tan, but part of it near her left eye is darker in complexion. It becomes pretty apparent what was happening from here. It's obvious she's the victim of domestic violence and used makeup foundation to hide her black eye.
I run up to her and say, "Listen, I know what you're going through. Who did this to you?" but I am met with a bewildered look. I mention, "I see these cases all the time. A man gets a little too comfortable, forgets to check his privilege, maybe starts smacking someone around a bit. It's a classic case of domestic violence." She's also sporting an NFL lanyard so at this point I'm sweating.
Sternly, the woman responds, "Listen, I don't know what you're implying but I am graciously and well-catered to at home by my loving husband."
"Textbook self-deception," I add. "The abuse runs so deep you see the attacks as justified. He's desecrated your self-esteem to the point where you believe you deserve the abuse. I can see the bruises you've tried to camouflage with makeup. I know what's going on. If you need help, I'm your human." (I never say, "I'm your man," as it promotes sexism.)
"Leave me alone," the woman says. "This is the last time I'm going to ask you."
"Listen," I say. "We have women's refuges, counseling, psychotherapy, there are options out there. I'm about to hook you up with my contact at the local shelter. It'll take less than a minute." I begin tinkering with my smartphone.
Naturally when rescuing a woman, a crowd begins to form, murmur and cause commotion.
"No, you listen!" the woman responds aggressively. "You fucking idiot. I don't have any bruises on my body! It's called vitiligo, a common skin disorder that causes depigmentation. Do you know what vitiligo is? Swatches of my skin are different colors! It's not me covering up bruises or Mad Cow Disease or whatever misinformed assumption you have, you daft baboon."
"It's not your fault," I coddle and assure the woman. I begin speaking loudly to subdue the ever-perplexed crowd of onlookers. "She is not herself! She's manifested into a mere vessel for the talking points of THE PATRIARCHY! This elaborate lie she's concocted to defend her abuser is nothing more than a showcase for how insidious this problem of spousal abuse really can be!" I get a few claps toward the back.
"What we have here today is a thought prisoner! Sexism has broken her capacity for agency, and turned her into nothing more than a heap of sexual orifices and irrationality. Her brain has been trained for nothing more than base emotional response and providing magnificent domepiece. This exploitation will not stand."
The woman began to attack me but I assured everyone, "She is not at fault for this. This is the result only of men, micro-aggressions, and rape culture!" Her wig fell off in all the fervor. I even placed it upon my head to calm her and said, "See, I am one of you. We are the same. Equals. Feminists. Sisters in arms."
At this point, in typical fashion, three MEN in security uniform are sent to restrain me. These Puppets of Patriarchy and henchmen of the status quo wrestle me to the ground. If only I had more time... I would have convinced her to leave the tyranny of false love she will go home to tonight. If only I had a second moment... before she slipped through my fingers like the fine sands of time.
You would think I would be bitter about this and my eventual incarceration for my ACTions, or more accurately, ACTivisim. But I look at the positive. Someone in that confused Walmart crowd heard what I had to say. Some man, or woman, or child. Someone was there to lay witness to this sacrifice to the Patriarchic apparatus and take inspiration. Like Jefferson said, "The Tree of Liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of the non-binary pansexual patriots and the hetero-normative cisgender tyrants."