Brock Turner, please just shut up. Stop talking. Stop spewing the insane, ridiculous things that are falling out of your face hole left and right.
I know that is a silly way to refer to speech, but I can't think of a better way to describe what happened when you told Judge Aaron Persky in your statement at sentencing last week that you "wish(ed) (you) never (were) good at swimming or had the opportunity to attend Stanford, so maybe the newspapers wouldn’t want to write stories about (you)."
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I'm not sure if you're the most dense person on this massive globe of people hurtling through the atmosphere or if you really, truly believe in some sick, twisted virtual reality that you're the victim.
But the newspapers, they want to write about you because you raped someone. Not because you were a good swimmer or because you went to Stanford briefly or because we're interested in your life.
You chose to rape an unconscious woman behind a dumpster at a fraternity party. You walked out that door. You took her with you. You removed her clothes. You bent her over. You inserted yourself into her. I can count at least five junctures in that sequence where you actively made a decision to commit to this behavior. At least five chances to walk away. To do the right thing.
"I would give anything to change what happened that night," you wrote in your statement to Judge Persky.
Would you, though? Because you had several chances to do it. But you never made that decision, Brock. And now, you must live with the consequences of your actions, because that's life whether you're a privileged athlete or not.
You say in the statement that you're a "changed person," that you "never want to have a drop of alcohol ever again." But you're not a changed man, Brock, because you still don't get that it wasn't alcohol who chose to rape an unconscious woman. It was you. You made that choice.
Most people after frat parties decide to drunkenly binge on pizza, maybe drunk-dial an ex or two. Some go home and puke or pass out. They don't hump women incapable of defending themselves behind dumpsters and then run when they get caught. You chose that.
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"My poor decision making and excessive drinking hurt someone that night and I wish I could just take it all back," you wrote. "I’ve lost my chance to swim in the Olympics. I’ve lost my ability to obtain a Stanford degree. I’ve lost employment opportunity, my reputation and most of all, my life."
You wish you could take it back — not because it was wrong — but because you got caught.
You should lose those things, Brock, because you still don't accept responsibility for your actions. Eight men and four women looked you in the eye in March and told you they didn't believe your story — the one where you said that the sex was consensual, that the victim liked it because she rubbed your back while you were raping her, dragging her through a bed of pine needles .
You're a convicted felon, Brock. Whether you serve six months or three, you will always be that convicted felon, and you should carry the weight of that, because you made the choice to force a woman to carry the weight of your "20 minutes of action," as your father calls it, for the rest of her life.
As for your stated desire "to be a voice of reason in a time where people’s attitudes and preconceived notions about partying and drinking have already been established," get real. Take a nice, long look in the mirror. Squint hard if you have to.
And please, for the love of God, shut up and go to jail.