Dear (Some) Men,
Imagine, will you, your favorite car.
This car's interior has reached the point where it perfectly molds to the shape of your body as it effortlessly transports you from Point A to Point B.
It gets amazing gas mileage: you don't have to spend too much money or time to preserve it.
Imagine, now, that you're at a red light, jamming out to your favorite song. You're at a 4-way intersection and plan on going straight: you're going home.
The light turns green and you pull out into the intersection with full intention of going straight.
However, someone in a large truck comes from the part of the intersection to your left and strikes your car going 60 miles per hour.
When the police ask why this trucker performed such a task, the driver says "Well, the car I hit was bright red, which is like a target. You know, the ones that archers shoot at and stuff? It was instinct for me to hit a target!"
As you recover from your injuries, they tell you that your car was beyond repair. The first question they ask is
"What color was the car, again?"
You say, "Red, officer."
"Oh, you should not have made that choice. It is your fault for picking a color so close to a target. Be more careful next time."
"But he was going against the law by blatantly disobeying traffic signals!"
"You can't fight the laws of nature, though. Targets should always be shot at. It's just men being men. You have a nice day, sir."
The officers leave, case closed.
You broke no laws, you did nothing morally wrong, you never gave consent...
...but it is your fault.
