Don't blame me

It happens every so often. A male acquaintance will do something that makes me uncomfortable—whether an unwanted touch, an objectifying comment or a wolf-whistle—something that triggers a deep-seated sense of apprehension in my stomach. But as soon as I protest, the expression of my discomfort backfires as it all becomes about their hurt feelings.

"You're exaggerating!"

"That's not what I meant!"

"I can't believe you're treating me like I'm a random guy in the street!"

My standing up for myself becomes a betrayal of whatever bond of camaraderie said person thought we had. In their eyes, I suddenly turn into an overreacting harpy for responding so seriously to something so insignificant.

But for all the men who have ever gotten huffy at me for setting boundaries, those who have joked that "come on, I'm not gonna rape you" when I turned down a ride home, I wish I could have said:

Don't blame me.

Blame them:

Who is innocent?

The story that has been shaking the world these past two weeks is the hateful, racist, and overall shitty movie called "The Innocence of Muslims," and the resulting uproar which has led to the death of at least 30 people, including the American ambassador to Libya, J. Christopher  Stevens.

These events were tragic enough on their own, but on Wednesday, French satirical paper Charlie Hebdo decided to publish caricatures of the Prophet Muhammad. This is not the first time this publication has targeted Islam. Their offices were bombed a year ago in response to an issue they had renamed "Sharia Hebdo," and the infamous Danish cartoon also graced its pages in 2007. To say that Charlie Hebdo is no stranger to controversy is quite an understatement, but this instance smacks of gross opportunism and recklessness.