Blamer Susan just got this postcard in the mail. She yawned.
You know these cards. “NOTICE OF HIGH-RISK SEX OFFENDER IN COMMUNITY.” The state sends’em out when a convicted perv, who for some reason isn’t in jail even though he is “high risk,” moves into your neighborhood, to frolic and molest.
The question is, what the fuck are you supposed to do with this information? Go from orange to red alert? Or, if you are already on red alert because this is, like, the 8th one of these cards you’ve gotten, escalate to infrared alert? Arm yourself at all times with a pit bull and a flamethrower? Build a cinderblock bunker and lock yourself up in it?
They should send out cards that read NOTICE OF BLOCK PARTY CELEBRATING CASTRATION OF ANOTHER SEX OFFENDER. PUBLIC SHAMING AT 9. MUSIC STARTS AT 10. BYOB.
Because, Jesus in a jetpack, these unhelpful warnings are meaningless, merely adding to the shitpile and general sense of exhaustion women perpetually experience as a result of performing our unceasing hyper-vigilance.
As Susan points out, big whoop. Another day, another perv in close proximity. As we all know, these assholes are everywhere, and the overwhelming majority don’t come with picture postcards. In fact, the only ones with postcards are the non-white, non-affluent ones.
Except this one. Ha!
Wouldn’t it be funny if, instead of sending out postcards announcing the arrival of unreconstructed violent criminals, the state would think up ways to prevent dude-based violence in the first place? Such methods would not, if I may be allowed an even more improbable dream, include advising women on how to keep from being attacked.