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shadowkatAfter reading the Neil Gaiman article last night, this morning at work I listened to Amanda Palmer's New Zealand Survival Songs Album (referenced in the article) on Apple Music. There's five songs in all. And got obsessed with three songs - two of which pretty much convinced me without a shadow of doubt that it all happened.
They are fascinating songs, that resonate in some respects. My favorite is the Ballad of the New York Times (which isn't about Gaiman at all).
1. Whakanewha (with Aurelia Torkington). I got a little obsessed with this song today in that I listened to it repeatedly. Why? It talks about how you can get sucked in by someone, seeing the good in them, trying to save them, and end up almost being pulled down by them into their darkness.
It's gut-wrenching song about a bad breakup and an abusive relationship.
"Whakanewha"
Another forest metaphor
You've heard a million before
The trees know everything, I tried a wedding ring
But you just cringed and said, "What for?"
And now the whole thing's turned to ash
You try to cover it with cash
Another falling tree no one can hear but me
Another suicidal mass
Landing on my doorstep, thanks a ton
Oh, darling, how can I repay you for what you have done?
And then you lied to me at Whakanewha
And you sealed it with a kiss
I wanted to live with you, but, fuckin'-a, fuck you
No one on Earth could live like this
Another clear-cut load of crap
A few more corpses in the sack
You'll get away with it, it's just the same old script
This world is shaped to have your back
You said, "I'm sorry," then you ran
And went and did it all again
I'm such a fool, I know
Street smart but gullible
I see the good in everything
A pound of flax, a pound of steel
I may be dumb, but I can feel
I wonder when you'll realize what you had
A frightened bird, a crystal ball
So sad, you could've had it all
But you hate yourself too much to want all that
I had so much hope for your broken heart
But you've made your choice, and you chose the dark
And so I'll bury you at Whakanewha
And have a party with my friends
I'll miss you terribly, but, fuckin'-a, fuck me
It feels so good to love again
And so I'll bury you at Whakanewha
And have a party with my friends
I'll miss you terribly, but, fuckin'-a, fuck me
It feels so good to love again
The song is furious and as it goes, she inserts the word fuck repeatedly.
It goes from wistful poetry and metaphor to simmering rage, that finally boils over.
2. The Man Who Ate Too Much. Another gut-wrenching song about trying to hold onto a marriage for a child and realizing it won't work.
"The Man Who Ate Too Much"
8,000 miles away
My life is still packed up in boxes
I was positive I would sort out in May
I keep telling my friends that it's strange
How many times can you say that before it's not strange?
We've spent all summer in the winter on a stingray that was hacked to pieces
And Ash points to the giant in the mountain and he asks me where his arms is
Another man who ate too much
And women keep grieving them with the songs we sing
I wanted to get back to New York
And now it isn't looking promising
But Kya brought Izzy's old coat and it fits like a glove
And Aidan put Ash on his back when we went for a walk
And one of these days, I swear, I'll take a second for me
And one of these days, I swear to God, I'll get out to the sea
8,000 miles away
A man in a White House refuses to face his own pain
Why should it matter? What lives really matter?
Why bother to open your heart when there's pussy and fame?
And we put our money on the study of an army that relies on terror
And Ash points to the statue of the captain and he asks me what it's there for
Another man who ate too much
And women keep grieving them with the songs we sing
I was hoping New York would open up
And now it isn't looking promising
But Kya brought Izzy's old coat and it fits like a glove
And Aidan put Ash on his back when we went for a walk
And Lou gave a history book of New Zealand to me
And today we met somebody nice and her name is Roisin
I've spent eleven years chasing the summer
Ain't karma a bitch? Now it's endless December
Stuck in a house where the post won't deliver
Stuck in a book by a paralyzed writer
Trying to read to my son by a sliver
Of hope from a broken light, we'll have to pay for
It's no kind of life for a kid to grow up in
I guess I'll stop taking these prenatal vitamins
Christ, what a waste, maybe someone can use them
But I can't keep having to look at them, look at them
Look at them, look at them
8,000 miles away
The man in the house gets a little more broke everyday
Who says what's real and what's fake?
You've been lying so much for so long, I don't know what to say
And I keep on telling all my friends it's not that bad, but that depends what bad is
And Ash points to the family in the story and he asks me where the dad is
Another man who ate too much
And women keep grieving them with the songs we sing
I was hoping that you would open up
And now it isn't looking promising
But Kya brought Izzy's old coat and it fits like a glove
And Aidan put Ash on his back when we went for a walk
And Linda let Ash play her pinball and loaned us a car
And Jude showed us the orchard and where all the good apples are
And Izzy keeps bringing her toys that she thinks Ash would like
A mouse, a Moana, some books and a little white bike
And Lou gave a history book of New Zealand to me
And today after school we'll drive over and visit Roisin
And Roisin and her kids made the most beautiful Christmas tree
Out of driftwood they gathered, from her house by the sea
Out of driftwood they gathered, from her house by the sea
Out of driftwood they gathered, from her house by the sea
Palmer's lyrics at times feel like a punch to the gut. In your face like a closed fist. But at the same time soft and meandering, painful, like tears falling down a cheek. You can you almost hear the tears in her voice. It's a song that brings tears to the eyes with the utter pathos.
3. The Ballad of New York Times - this song is half spoken, half sung, and resonated with me. It explains why I stopped reading the New York Times. It's funny and painful at the same time. Raging and self-deprecating.
"The Ballad Of The New York Times by Amanda Palmer"
It's a cousin of the song I wrote a year ago. Like a first cousin, so they can't have babies
They sell Canadian grade A maple syrup in New Zealand
It's expensive but I splurge
So I can put it on our pancake breakfast and
Sometimes I forget to put the lid on and the ants come
Into the kitchen of this AirB&B we've been renting for six months for a fortune and
Sometimes I take a magazine and I escort them two by two
In a little glossy lifeboat into the garden and
Sometimes I just create an ant holocaust and kill them all
With a paper towel
(Fuck the ants!)
I don't understand which part of me is kind
I don't understand which part of me can be so goddamn unkind
I don't understand why I'm tired all the time
All I know is that last night I wanted to go to bed by five o'clock
And I took off my necklace
And I turned on the heater
And I couldn't stop shaking
So I put on a sweater
And I read the New York Times
On an app in my phone next to my sleeping child
And the headlines hurt my mind
Five thousand dead, Cher got an elephant back into the wild
And the light on his face
And his curly-haired head
And I knew I should be reading a good book instead
I can't fit all of all humanity into this bed
With me
Yesterday I walked by a homeless man in Queen Street
I gave him twenty dollars and then went into a cafe and
Someone had sent a crowd-fund from their cousin in Milwaukee
And their seven month old baby died and they don't have any money
For a funeral for the baby so they started a Go-Fund-Me
And I fucking deleted the email
I didn't give them any money
And I didn't put it up on Twitter
Or share it on Facebook
And later in the day I called my friend in Boston
She has a five year old boy too and I asked how they were doing
She said, "We're doing really great
We're just getting out of lockdown
And yesterday we finally left the house and went out walking and we
All went to the toy store" and I said, "Oh, that's amazing"
And she said, "Yeah, but you know, of course the kids had to wear masks"
And I was like, "Oh, you know, that's- that's fine" and she said
"Yeah, and also, like, the kids couldn't touch any of the toys
But anyway, enough about me, how are things going in New Zealand?"
And I said, "They're pretty good"
I don't understand which part of me is fine
I don't understand which part of me can be so goddamn un-fine
I don't understand why I'm so random all the time
All I know is that last night I had to go to bed by five o'clock
And I took off my necklace
And I turned on the heater
I couldn't stop shaking
So I put on a sweater
And I read the New York Times
On the app on my phone next to my sleeping child
And the headlines hurt my mind
Ten thousand dead and how that dress looked hot on Harry Styles
And the light in his face
And his curly-haired head
I knew I should be reading a good book instead
I can't fit all of humanity into this bed
With me
And Emily's dad just died of COVID
And Neil's first editor just died of COVID
And Justine's mom just died of COVID
And Michael got real sick but didn't die of COVID
And look, a lot of people are vaccinated
And look, a lot of people are lying on Facebook
And look, a lot of human's life getting wasted
And American swimming took gold at the Olympics
I don't understand why the world can be so fine
I don't understand how the world can be so fucking un-fine
I don't understand why I've been drinking all the time
All I know is the last time I had to go to bed by five o'clock
And I left all my clothes on
And I pulled up the covers
And I got Ash's dinner
And I let the dishes just sit there
And I brushed Ash's teeth and
We read Harry Potter
And I turned all the lights out
And I should have known better
But I read the New York Times
On the app on my phone in the pitch black room
And the headlines hurt my mind
Four million dead and billionaires are sending shit to the moon
And the light in his face
And his curly-haired head
And I knew I should be reading a good book instead
I can't fit all of humanity into this bed
With me
Shh
Mama's trying to read
Mama's trying to read
Mama's trying to read
It's a wonderful song about being overwhelmed by the pain in the world.
And the need to help but the inability to do so - and wondering if one is a horrible person for not wanting to.
****
The things I didn't post from the Neil Gaiman article and now can't, because I don't have access to the article any longer. It was far too long to post all of it, and the former copyright lawyer in me - couldn't do it.
Apparently, Gaiman did some degrading sexual acts with Pavolich, his son's babysitter, with his son in the room. They were together in the bedroom. These acts included things like.. Pavolich being forced to lick Gaiman's urine off of his penis and his hand, and forced to kneel on the bathroom floor to do the penis, while Gaiman's six year old son was in the next room or even in the room. At another point, he forced her to have sex while the kid had his back turned, and was talking to his son while he did it. Add to this, he made her call him Master in front of his son - to the point that his son started degrading her and asked her to do the same. Pavolich told all this to Palmer in 2022, and Palmer immediately got her son away from Gaiman and started proceedings to keep Gaiman out of their lives.
Another disturbing bit - that I didn't post? Gaiman doesn't like foreplay or lubricant during sex. And he told Palmer he didn't believe people could fall in love - she felt the need to convince him otherwise. She did get him to get help - a couples counselor named Mueller - who he agreed to see - this happened after the Rachel incident. He swore he would stop - it was the last time. But he kept lying to her. She begged him not to do it with the babysitter, Pavolich, who she'd taken in. (Pavolich at 22, was homeless, estranged from her family, had no safety net, hated herself, had self-mutilated herself as a teen, and was a recovering from bulimia - after leaving home at the age of 15. She was in her early 20s when she met the 64 year old Gaiman). She'd been sleeping in a friend's sleeping bag on the beach in New Zealand when she met Palmer. Palmer was separated from Gaiman at the time - and they had two separate houses. Gaiman was away most of the time. Palmer told Gaiman not to touch the babysitter when he returned - that the babysitter, Pavolich, would be broken by his sort of treatment. But Gaiman ignored Palmer, determined to have Pavolich all the more. And the rest has already been reported via various outlets.
Each one of the women that Gaiman went after had one thing in common, including Palmer - they were vulnerable, and easily manipulated. All were idealistic. All had at one time or another been raped, beaten, or hurt.
All were desperate when he met them, and didn't have his financial resources. Also all with the exception of maybe the caretaker, were over twenty years younger than Gaiman. Impressionable, young, women.
It's also the pattern with Scientology. Gaiman was raised partly by L Ron Hubbard and Scientology. I know more than I want to about Scientology. It's a nasty cult. My sister-in-law's cousin was raised in it - and it damaged him beyond repair, he's MAGNA, and somewhat nuts. He was forced to wear diapers until he was 10. His father had to fight the Scientologists and the mother, who was in the cult, for custody. And he escaped. Gaiman wasn't as lucky.
This is so so sad. And so painful. Gaiman isn't all bad, clearly. No one is. (But I won't be reading him or watching any of his stuff any longer. And I do believe the allegations.) He is exceedingly charming. Also, most of this is unfortunately impossible to prove. Gaiman per NPR article stating Gaiman's response to the allegations.
Other links:
* AV Club - Gaiman denies Sexual Assault Allegations (Note he's not denying he practiced BDSM, which is legal with safe words. Gaiman doesn't tend to use safe words, and ignores "no" seeing it as part of the act - according to the New York Magazine article. He's denying it was non-consensual or rape.
* Neil Gaiman Breaks Silence on Horrible Sexual Abuse Claims
* Neil Gaiman Denies Sexual Abuse Allegation per Variety
* Also Variety - Multiple Women Accuse Neil Gaiman of Sexual Assault
* Tori Amos on the Neil Gaiman allegations via The Guardian
* Rolling Stone - More Women Accuse Gaiman of Sexual Abuse
* USA Today - Gaiman responds to Sexual Assault Allegations
* The Huffington Post - Neil Gaiman Assault Accusations
* USA Today discusses the Vulture Article on Gaiman Sexual Assault Allegations
As you can see - it's gone viral now. After disappearing from the news for a bit, it popped back with a legitimate journalist writing an article about it. Which was what we were all kind of waiting for.
They are fascinating songs, that resonate in some respects. My favorite is the Ballad of the New York Times (which isn't about Gaiman at all).
1. Whakanewha (with Aurelia Torkington). I got a little obsessed with this song today in that I listened to it repeatedly. Why? It talks about how you can get sucked in by someone, seeing the good in them, trying to save them, and end up almost being pulled down by them into their darkness.
It's gut-wrenching song about a bad breakup and an abusive relationship.
"Whakanewha"
Another forest metaphor
You've heard a million before
The trees know everything, I tried a wedding ring
But you just cringed and said, "What for?"
And now the whole thing's turned to ash
You try to cover it with cash
Another falling tree no one can hear but me
Another suicidal mass
Landing on my doorstep, thanks a ton
Oh, darling, how can I repay you for what you have done?
And then you lied to me at Whakanewha
And you sealed it with a kiss
I wanted to live with you, but, fuckin'-a, fuck you
No one on Earth could live like this
Another clear-cut load of crap
A few more corpses in the sack
You'll get away with it, it's just the same old script
This world is shaped to have your back
You said, "I'm sorry," then you ran
And went and did it all again
I'm such a fool, I know
Street smart but gullible
I see the good in everything
A pound of flax, a pound of steel
I may be dumb, but I can feel
I wonder when you'll realize what you had
A frightened bird, a crystal ball
So sad, you could've had it all
But you hate yourself too much to want all that
I had so much hope for your broken heart
But you've made your choice, and you chose the dark
And so I'll bury you at Whakanewha
And have a party with my friends
I'll miss you terribly, but, fuckin'-a, fuck me
It feels so good to love again
And so I'll bury you at Whakanewha
And have a party with my friends
I'll miss you terribly, but, fuckin'-a, fuck me
It feels so good to love again
The song is furious and as it goes, she inserts the word fuck repeatedly.
It goes from wistful poetry and metaphor to simmering rage, that finally boils over.
2. The Man Who Ate Too Much. Another gut-wrenching song about trying to hold onto a marriage for a child and realizing it won't work.
"The Man Who Ate Too Much"
8,000 miles away
My life is still packed up in boxes
I was positive I would sort out in May
I keep telling my friends that it's strange
How many times can you say that before it's not strange?
We've spent all summer in the winter on a stingray that was hacked to pieces
And Ash points to the giant in the mountain and he asks me where his arms is
Another man who ate too much
And women keep grieving them with the songs we sing
I wanted to get back to New York
And now it isn't looking promising
But Kya brought Izzy's old coat and it fits like a glove
And Aidan put Ash on his back when we went for a walk
And one of these days, I swear, I'll take a second for me
And one of these days, I swear to God, I'll get out to the sea
8,000 miles away
A man in a White House refuses to face his own pain
Why should it matter? What lives really matter?
Why bother to open your heart when there's pussy and fame?
And we put our money on the study of an army that relies on terror
And Ash points to the statue of the captain and he asks me what it's there for
Another man who ate too much
And women keep grieving them with the songs we sing
I was hoping New York would open up
And now it isn't looking promising
But Kya brought Izzy's old coat and it fits like a glove
And Aidan put Ash on his back when we went for a walk
And Lou gave a history book of New Zealand to me
And today we met somebody nice and her name is Roisin
I've spent eleven years chasing the summer
Ain't karma a bitch? Now it's endless December
Stuck in a house where the post won't deliver
Stuck in a book by a paralyzed writer
Trying to read to my son by a sliver
Of hope from a broken light, we'll have to pay for
It's no kind of life for a kid to grow up in
I guess I'll stop taking these prenatal vitamins
Christ, what a waste, maybe someone can use them
But I can't keep having to look at them, look at them
Look at them, look at them
8,000 miles away
The man in the house gets a little more broke everyday
Who says what's real and what's fake?
You've been lying so much for so long, I don't know what to say
And I keep on telling all my friends it's not that bad, but that depends what bad is
And Ash points to the family in the story and he asks me where the dad is
Another man who ate too much
And women keep grieving them with the songs we sing
I was hoping that you would open up
And now it isn't looking promising
But Kya brought Izzy's old coat and it fits like a glove
And Aidan put Ash on his back when we went for a walk
And Linda let Ash play her pinball and loaned us a car
And Jude showed us the orchard and where all the good apples are
And Izzy keeps bringing her toys that she thinks Ash would like
A mouse, a Moana, some books and a little white bike
And Lou gave a history book of New Zealand to me
And today after school we'll drive over and visit Roisin
And Roisin and her kids made the most beautiful Christmas tree
Out of driftwood they gathered, from her house by the sea
Out of driftwood they gathered, from her house by the sea
Out of driftwood they gathered, from her house by the sea
Palmer's lyrics at times feel like a punch to the gut. In your face like a closed fist. But at the same time soft and meandering, painful, like tears falling down a cheek. You can you almost hear the tears in her voice. It's a song that brings tears to the eyes with the utter pathos.
3. The Ballad of New York Times - this song is half spoken, half sung, and resonated with me. It explains why I stopped reading the New York Times. It's funny and painful at the same time. Raging and self-deprecating.
"The Ballad Of The New York Times by Amanda Palmer"
It's a cousin of the song I wrote a year ago. Like a first cousin, so they can't have babies
They sell Canadian grade A maple syrup in New Zealand
It's expensive but I splurge
So I can put it on our pancake breakfast and
Sometimes I forget to put the lid on and the ants come
Into the kitchen of this AirB&B we've been renting for six months for a fortune and
Sometimes I take a magazine and I escort them two by two
In a little glossy lifeboat into the garden and
Sometimes I just create an ant holocaust and kill them all
With a paper towel
(Fuck the ants!)
I don't understand which part of me is kind
I don't understand which part of me can be so goddamn unkind
I don't understand why I'm tired all the time
All I know is that last night I wanted to go to bed by five o'clock
And I took off my necklace
And I turned on the heater
And I couldn't stop shaking
So I put on a sweater
And I read the New York Times
On an app in my phone next to my sleeping child
And the headlines hurt my mind
Five thousand dead, Cher got an elephant back into the wild
And the light on his face
And his curly-haired head
And I knew I should be reading a good book instead
I can't fit all of all humanity into this bed
With me
Yesterday I walked by a homeless man in Queen Street
I gave him twenty dollars and then went into a cafe and
Someone had sent a crowd-fund from their cousin in Milwaukee
And their seven month old baby died and they don't have any money
For a funeral for the baby so they started a Go-Fund-Me
And I fucking deleted the email
I didn't give them any money
And I didn't put it up on Twitter
Or share it on Facebook
And later in the day I called my friend in Boston
She has a five year old boy too and I asked how they were doing
She said, "We're doing really great
We're just getting out of lockdown
And yesterday we finally left the house and went out walking and we
All went to the toy store" and I said, "Oh, that's amazing"
And she said, "Yeah, but you know, of course the kids had to wear masks"
And I was like, "Oh, you know, that's- that's fine" and she said
"Yeah, and also, like, the kids couldn't touch any of the toys
But anyway, enough about me, how are things going in New Zealand?"
And I said, "They're pretty good"
I don't understand which part of me is fine
I don't understand which part of me can be so goddamn un-fine
I don't understand why I'm so random all the time
All I know is that last night I had to go to bed by five o'clock
And I took off my necklace
And I turned on the heater
I couldn't stop shaking
So I put on a sweater
And I read the New York Times
On the app on my phone next to my sleeping child
And the headlines hurt my mind
Ten thousand dead and how that dress looked hot on Harry Styles
And the light in his face
And his curly-haired head
I knew I should be reading a good book instead
I can't fit all of humanity into this bed
With me
And Emily's dad just died of COVID
And Neil's first editor just died of COVID
And Justine's mom just died of COVID
And Michael got real sick but didn't die of COVID
And look, a lot of people are vaccinated
And look, a lot of people are lying on Facebook
And look, a lot of human's life getting wasted
And American swimming took gold at the Olympics
I don't understand why the world can be so fine
I don't understand how the world can be so fucking un-fine
I don't understand why I've been drinking all the time
All I know is the last time I had to go to bed by five o'clock
And I left all my clothes on
And I pulled up the covers
And I got Ash's dinner
And I let the dishes just sit there
And I brushed Ash's teeth and
We read Harry Potter
And I turned all the lights out
And I should have known better
But I read the New York Times
On the app on my phone in the pitch black room
And the headlines hurt my mind
Four million dead and billionaires are sending shit to the moon
And the light in his face
And his curly-haired head
And I knew I should be reading a good book instead
I can't fit all of humanity into this bed
With me
Shh
Mama's trying to read
Mama's trying to read
Mama's trying to read
It's a wonderful song about being overwhelmed by the pain in the world.
And the need to help but the inability to do so - and wondering if one is a horrible person for not wanting to.
****
The things I didn't post from the Neil Gaiman article and now can't, because I don't have access to the article any longer. It was far too long to post all of it, and the former copyright lawyer in me - couldn't do it.
Apparently, Gaiman did some degrading sexual acts with Pavolich, his son's babysitter, with his son in the room. They were together in the bedroom. These acts included things like.. Pavolich being forced to lick Gaiman's urine off of his penis and his hand, and forced to kneel on the bathroom floor to do the penis, while Gaiman's six year old son was in the next room or even in the room. At another point, he forced her to have sex while the kid had his back turned, and was talking to his son while he did it. Add to this, he made her call him Master in front of his son - to the point that his son started degrading her and asked her to do the same. Pavolich told all this to Palmer in 2022, and Palmer immediately got her son away from Gaiman and started proceedings to keep Gaiman out of their lives.
Another disturbing bit - that I didn't post? Gaiman doesn't like foreplay or lubricant during sex. And he told Palmer he didn't believe people could fall in love - she felt the need to convince him otherwise. She did get him to get help - a couples counselor named Mueller - who he agreed to see - this happened after the Rachel incident. He swore he would stop - it was the last time. But he kept lying to her. She begged him not to do it with the babysitter, Pavolich, who she'd taken in. (Pavolich at 22, was homeless, estranged from her family, had no safety net, hated herself, had self-mutilated herself as a teen, and was a recovering from bulimia - after leaving home at the age of 15. She was in her early 20s when she met the 64 year old Gaiman). She'd been sleeping in a friend's sleeping bag on the beach in New Zealand when she met Palmer. Palmer was separated from Gaiman at the time - and they had two separate houses. Gaiman was away most of the time. Palmer told Gaiman not to touch the babysitter when he returned - that the babysitter, Pavolich, would be broken by his sort of treatment. But Gaiman ignored Palmer, determined to have Pavolich all the more. And the rest has already been reported via various outlets.
Each one of the women that Gaiman went after had one thing in common, including Palmer - they were vulnerable, and easily manipulated. All were idealistic. All had at one time or another been raped, beaten, or hurt.
All were desperate when he met them, and didn't have his financial resources. Also all with the exception of maybe the caretaker, were over twenty years younger than Gaiman. Impressionable, young, women.
It's also the pattern with Scientology. Gaiman was raised partly by L Ron Hubbard and Scientology. I know more than I want to about Scientology. It's a nasty cult. My sister-in-law's cousin was raised in it - and it damaged him beyond repair, he's MAGNA, and somewhat nuts. He was forced to wear diapers until he was 10. His father had to fight the Scientologists and the mother, who was in the cult, for custody. And he escaped. Gaiman wasn't as lucky.
This is so so sad. And so painful. Gaiman isn't all bad, clearly. No one is. (But I won't be reading him or watching any of his stuff any longer. And I do believe the allegations.) He is exceedingly charming. Also, most of this is unfortunately impossible to prove. Gaiman per NPR article stating Gaiman's response to the allegations.
Other links:
* AV Club - Gaiman denies Sexual Assault Allegations (Note he's not denying he practiced BDSM, which is legal with safe words. Gaiman doesn't tend to use safe words, and ignores "no" seeing it as part of the act - according to the New York Magazine article. He's denying it was non-consensual or rape.
* Neil Gaiman Breaks Silence on Horrible Sexual Abuse Claims
* Neil Gaiman Denies Sexual Abuse Allegation per Variety
* Also Variety - Multiple Women Accuse Neil Gaiman of Sexual Assault
* Tori Amos on the Neil Gaiman allegations via The Guardian
* Rolling Stone - More Women Accuse Gaiman of Sexual Abuse
* USA Today - Gaiman responds to Sexual Assault Allegations
* The Huffington Post - Neil Gaiman Assault Accusations
* USA Today discusses the Vulture Article on Gaiman Sexual Assault Allegations
As you can see - it's gone viral now. After disappearing from the news for a bit, it popped back with a legitimate journalist writing an article about it. Which was what we were all kind of waiting for.
no subject
Date: 2025-01-15 01:12 am (UTC)Yeah.
Thank you for the Tori link, I was thinking about her last night.
no subject
Date: 2025-01-15 02:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-01-15 01:32 am (UTC)They all should be jailed. I agree with this post: Roxane Gay roxanegay.bsky.social
Whew. The Gaiman story is horrifying on so many levels AND Amanda Palmer serving up vulnerable young women to him and exploiting someone for labor is also horrifying.
no subject
Date: 2025-01-16 11:15 pm (UTC)