SEX TAPE SUICIDE RELEVANT TO HETEROSEXUALS
The tragic suicide death of Rutgers University freshman, talented violinist Tyler Clementi, 18,
who jumped from
the George Washington bridge on September 28, after learning that images of him in a
romantic homosexual act had been streamed live on the Internet,
should be treated with a broader brush, not as gay bashing. To narrow the scope can imply that
had the sexual encounter been a heterosexual one, it would have been appropriate to
stream the video.
If "bias" can be used to facilitate more serious charges being brought against accused
Rutgers students Dharun Ravi and Molly Wei, then go for it, But,
don't discount the seriousness of such a privacy violation against a heterosexual.
We're in a society that likes to "mess" with people - if for no other reason than because
it's "fun." Not limited to teen-age college students, those in extreme power like to
do it as a show of importance and control. That can also lead to violence.
My father, a mild mannered, extremely talented, well education, functioning alcoholic,
escaped serious prison time for his treatment of me - which was torture, not sex.
As a small child I recall be questioned by authorities but I think I refused to
provide any answers. My father was, however, forbidden to ever again be alone with
me in a room.
My mother, fun loving and liked by many, was the devil incarnate who never should have had children, although she
wanted a boy. Had she had one, she probably would have sexually molested him as an infant.
That - you gotta be kidding -
nope - scenario set me up an easy mark. That's all information I spent a life time trying
to hide and would have stayed hidden,
had it not been for hateful people unnecessarily obtaining the legal papers, which it
appears may have been obtained under false pretenses - and then failing to protect
the identity of a minor which included
graphic
photographs.
To this day I am still plagued by people - some operating in the stratospheric
heights of the
entertainment world - getting a their jollies at my expense. As an aside: for anyone in a
seriously abusive home situation, you have only one choice - get out. Doesn't matter
what you have to do to get out - just get out, don't look back and if possible, never go back.
I spent many years in a relationship where the man was the axis of my world
while he revolved around himself.
Without my knowledge or permission, and deliberately kept hidden from me,
was a conversation he had with a couple of his friends which apparently was a
sexual bragging rights game. They turned the conversation into a letter to
the editor type of personal experience which, without my knowledge or permission, was
published in a sex magazine. The missive
could be termed
so sexually inflammatory as to encourage assault.
That would become a key element to my being a victim of character assignation and eventual violence.
Years ago in a formal legal event, I was insulted, criticized and badgered in
a line of questioning that involved either the bedroom or the bathroom. The
questioning became so sarcastic, insulting, offensive, intrusive,
uncomfortably kinky and 'strange' that I even called for a recess
to speak to lawyers, complaining that the questions were sick and disgusting, almost
scary and the bedroom/bathroom barrage of questions has no
relevance to anything.
I also expressed concern that my safety, if not my life, was being put into danger.
The line of questioning then changed to criticizing my correct posture and frequently sitting with my hands folded. Then the questioning entered a new direction.
For a variety of reasons I have No Trespassing signs on my property.
Again I was insulted, criticized, ridiculed and badgered about those signs, which I was told needed to come down. The attorney berated me for not wanting people on my property. He insisted that those signs needed to be removed and that there were people who wanted to know me better. I didn't act friendly.
Then I was questioned as to whether I had ever had any self defense training. I was asked if I
could defend myself.
An odd, off-the-wall line of questioning. Made me wonder if I was being set up to be
physically attached. Interesting speculation, since
not too long after the legal issues went away, that is exactly
what happened. Unfortunately, I didn't see his face or recognize the arms that grabbed me from behind.
The consequences will remain with me forever.
Pete Mikla was a former Las Vegas newspaper reporter who held himself out to be a press agent.
His roster
of clients for their Las Vegas performances was impressive, including Frank Sinatra,
Jr., who was the lynch pin, name-thrown-around, that enabled Mikla to obtain clients.
Press agents have a unique power in an industry that is unregulated. Anybody can call
themselves a public relation's person.
Mikla was an emotionally needy person. He was likable but a schmuck.
He bragged that in high school he had dated the most popular girls and didn't hesitate to describe that the "most popular girls in the school" would always go out with him when
they were having their periods. He'd say he was the Period Man. Asked if he thought he had
been used, he became defensive. He felt that as the Period Man he was part of a social
circle that otherwise he never would have been invited to join.
As a PR man he used celebrities to validate his own existence. Only he resented, and in some
cases actually despised and wanted to hurt, the very people who supported him - Frank Sinatra,
Jr being the main target. Mikla idolized the famous crooner while taking money from his
son as he betrayed him. Sinatra, Jr. was both loyal and complimentary to Mikla. Both the loyalty and compliments were misguided.
Sinatra, Jr. wasn't the only client that Milka used and abused.
Mikla became obsessed with me because I reminded him of a relative of his who, in a good
sense, was his go to person while he grew up.
I found him an annoying nuisance who had to be tolerated because of his profession.
He once invited me to participate in a family ocean cruise. I declined. There wouldn't have
been a cruise ship or ocean large enough. On another occasion he asked to borrow money. I declined. He told me I'd regret rejecting him.
I was kind to him until the day his died. When he was in a hospital dying, his parents hurried
to visit him. It was Mother's
Day and Mikla adored his mother. I actually went to the store and bought a Mother's
Day card and flower so he could give them to his mother when she entered his room.
I attempted to attend his funeral. Greeted by a large Frank Sinatra photograph,
coupled with Frank Sinatra music playing, you would have thought it was Old Blue Eyes being
eulogized. I found it so disgusting that I turned around and walked out, but not before
I argued with a mourner that instead of setting up a Frank Sinatra tribute, they should have
thanked
Frank, Jr
for all he had done for Mikla. I was wrong in picking a fight with somebody who was grieving,
but I did receive assurance that the younger Sinatra would be thanked.
Mikla has been dead for 11 years. I wish more than anybody that he was alive, so that I could be at his sentencing hearing. He should have died in a prison, not in a comfortable hospital bed.
If I knew then what I know now - and that's the problem. A legal system that protects the wrong people.
I've been stalked and harassed by several individuals. While Mikla was just a small player,
frequently used as an intermediary, he was paid
to do his tormenting, skulking and stealing - including, I now have been
informed, of conversing with and receiving money from my sexually chatty
ex-what-ever and/or his representatives.
Referring back to being legally questioned - Mikla was one of several people who provided
inaccurate or seriously misleading "information." Others are just as guilty. However,
at the moment,
it's Mikla in my cross-hairs. He contacted
my elementary
school classmates - individuals whom I have had no contact with in any manner
since 6th grade and that was during the 1950's.
Some were promised money - others trips and a party - if they would agree to "help" with
information about me. In turn they'd have an all expense paid vacation to attend sort
of a Friar's Club type roast, in which I'd be the guest of honor. They were asked to think
of anything about me that would embarrass or ridicule me and then exaggerate it because
that's the way roasts worked.
He attempted to illegally access medical information. Mikla falsely identified himself
as my brother or husband, of which I have neither.
Mikla also stole my garbage, my divorce papers and a pre-1920 ticket to a rained
out baseball game in Ebbets Field, one of two pasted inside my father's scrapbook.
I confronted him and he denied the theft. Shortly after he died a relative of his sold that
baseball ticket.
PR people have special power. They can be the removable barrier between the performer
and the reporter.
That power can be used professionally or it can be a Mikla.
It's an interesting character study that people don't experience the nagging of a guilty
conscious
and begin to confess (to help makes themselves look better) until they feel they are no longer
in jeopardy of being held accountable. When people - and some of the names being supplied are
recognizable to the masses - get a
kick out of messin' with somebody and that causes violence
or a loss of income - there shouldn't be a statute of limitations. Nevada also has a two party
consent rule that telephone conversations - even if they can prove the plotting of a crime or,
for that matter, are exculpatory, can't be used. That is wrong.
The days of ink to paper have turned into instant video. Instead of a long, drawn out
character assignation, the result can be immediate suicide, such as that of the young man
who should
have had a bright future. That's wrong.
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