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Indiana man arrested in 1987 sex assault of 2 children in Rhode Island
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and last updated 4:55 PM, Nov 18, 2022
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Give Light and the People Will Find Their Own Way
PROVIDENCE, R.I. (AP) â Police in Rhode Island say DNA evidence and the use of forensic genealogy has led to an arrest in a 35-year-old sexual assault case.
Authorities say 66-year-old Frank Thies was arrested last month in Indiana and faces charges of sexual assault and molestation.
The victims were aged 11 and 13 in 1987 when they were assaulted after being forced into the woods at knifepoint.
Physical evidence tied to the attacker was recovered, but it wasn't until recent developments in genetic forensics that investigators could identify a suspect and make an arrest.
Thies was arraigned Thursday in Rhode Island after being extradited from Indiana.
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Alito will have to find a new hobby.
Lost in all the midterm post-mortems and crypto implosion schadenfreude is a historic vote that took place in the newly lame duck Senate. This week the Senate voted to pass the Respect for Marriage Act, a bill that goes a long way toward codifying same-sex marriage on a federal level, effectively telling the various Heritage Foundation flunkies on the Roberts court to keep their grubby mitts off. Cool, now do abortion rights.
The Dobbs decision, a poorly reasoned, mean-spirited opinion written by Justice Samuel Alito with all the charm of canker sore, finally motivated Dems and the few Republicans yet to renounce their humanity to codify same-sex marriage into law. The act stops short of forcing individual states to issue same-sex marriage licenses but it does require all states to recognize same-sex marriages from all states where its legal. It also recognizes the marriages on a federal level for the purposes of programs like social security and medicare.
Post midterm Dems wasted no time in bringing the bill to a vote. No time like the present especially when Clarence Thomas drew a bright red target around Obergefell v. Hodges, the case that cleared the way for same-sex marriage, in his concurring opinion on Dobbs. The court has been telling us who they are and the Democratic leadership finally decided to believe them. This vote moves the bill to the floor for a final vote after which it can be sent to the house, which passed a version this summer, to be amended.
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The Sex Party review â spiky comedy fails to satisfy
Bigotry in the bedroom ⊠Timothy Hutton and Pooya Mohseni in The Sex Party. Photograph: Alastair Muir
Timothy Hutton on The Sex Party: âDo I think it will be controversial? I donât know âŠâ
Original reporting and incisive analysis, direct from the Guardian every morning
© 2022 Guardian News & Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved. (modern)
Menier Chocolate Factory, London Thereâs tension in Terry Johnsonâs tale of four couples meeting for sex and nibbles but the unruly debate isnât deep enough
A t first, The Sex Party looks like a retro BBC sitcom about swingers, although that term is banned at this adult shindig. Four couples collect for sex and nibbles at a cool north London postcode. There is gleeful talk about getting it on and a fair share of parading around in lingerie and thigh boots.
But Terry Johnsonâs spiky comedy takes us from the familiar fare of smut and sniggering double entendres to something bolder and more awkward in the sex/gender debate at its centre, even if it does not reach a satisfying end.
We only ever see what happens in the high-end kitchen (set designed by Tim Shortall) but we get a vivid idea of the action in the living room from the moans and groans we hear. In a production also directed by Johnson, the acting stays fine across the board although the characters are flimsy (Lisa Dwan especially does wonders with her part) and the star casting of Timothy Hutton stays strangely marginal for too long. He drifts on and off stage, saying little and looking like a cliched California guru in yoga pants.
The dialogue often goes off on random, unruly riffs; one character (Will Barton) talks about taking MDMA and the dialogue sounds under the influence too.
The playâs grenade is lobbed as the first act closes, with the entry of Lucy (Pooya Mohseni), a trans woman, and from here on in it feels like another play altogether. Doris Lessing, in a Penguin introduction to Lady Chatterleyâs Lover, wrote that what happens in the bedroom is a âreport on the sex warâ outside it and it seems to be the case with this living room; suddenly, no one wants to convene there and a very live tension is in the air.
Much is flung at us, from talk of toilets to language and JK Rowling and it feels genuinely edgy. It is brave of Johnson to grapple with a debate that has become so divisive that a meeting of this kind would be unimaginable in real life. But arguments come thick and fast without being explored. Johnson seems to be shooting an arrow through the issues of the day â including, too briefly, consent â but it comes to feel like a dramatised version of Twitter.
The room exposes its bigots and we finally see the point of Huttonâs character but as more plot-points are lobbed at us in the closing moments it feels much less like a sitcom than an entire series rolled into one production.
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