On the Nonexistence of Anything Creepy: Network Edition

Content warning: Mentions of rape, sarcasm about rape culture.  

I am moving out of my current apartment, and internet service ended yesterday.  Like any young lady with an extreme sense of entitlement about the internet and a sometimes shaky sense of ethics, I started scanning for unprotected wireless from the neighbors.   This is how I found out that one of my neighbors has a network named gRapeVan.


Screenshot of the networks that my laptop could find. Note gRapeVan.

I have been assured repeatedly that sexism and misogyny are completely not a thing in the U.S.and men are never raped. Therefore, the person who owns this network is probably merely a grape farmer with an odd sense of capitalization.  Or a rapeseed farmer who hasn’t gotten the memo that it’s referred to as canola now. It would simply be silly to read more into it. Even if the network name is, indeed, a reference to rape, I am undoubtedly missing lots and lots of context. A neighborhood in which I hate leaving the house due to the street harassment and the cops keep showing up after loud screaming fights from the neighboring houses (granted, correlation does not equal causation, and I don’t actually know why I keep seeing the police show up) completely does not count as context. Also, if I’m slightly uncomfortable about this, it’s really my fault anyway for looking at publicly scannable network names (with, admittedly, thievish intentions). So I shouldn’t in any feel that this is a little creepy.

I’m so glad I’m moving out.

Featured image from iconarchive.

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Elizabeth is a professional belly dancer, a flaky computer scientist, and a returned Peace Corps volunteer. She lives in Georgia (the state of the U.S., not the country) but is nonetheless somehow not a combination of stereotypes from Gone with the Wind and Deliverance. Her personal blog is Coffeefied. Operafied. Fluffified. Beglittered.

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