Mr Gone told me how three years ago a young architectural student was beaten and raped and left for dead Maxx:  Julie, are you gonna be okay?  I mean, being kidnapped and all...
Julie:  Hey, Gone tried his tricks on me, but I got the best of him.  So it's history.
When she got out of the hospital, she used all of her tuition money to set up a new life as a free-lance "social worker" trying to help other victims of the urban nightmare. Julie:  I hate whining!  And I hate professional victims!  All day long I hear sob stories from idiots who can't cope and so they pick something to blame it on!
This woman used her position to build a wall around herself. Julie:  "I was robbed... I was raped!  Nobody loved me!"  Pheeet!  Time out!
She helped people by controlling them... hoping to smother her own pain... something like that. Julie:  Everybody's got to take responsibility for their own life, y'know?
And somewhere in the wild land, in the land of dreams, in Pangaea... her better self was imprisoned by her own self-loathing. Maxx:  I dunno.  Seems like if somebody's raped it's not like a test you failed or a job where you get fired... it's somebody else's guilt for once!  You get your own anger and...
At least that's what Gone told me.  I don't know if I believe anything he said.  Least of all about Julie. Julie:  Hey Maxx?  Save the Liberal Feminist stuff for someone who cares, 'kay?
In fact, I was already having trouble remembering the details of what he said.  It was like a dream. Julie:  Sorry.  I know you're just trying to look out for me, like you always do.  But it's over now.  I cut the bastard's head free.  You chased him back to God-knows-where.  It's over.
A really bad dream. Julie:  And I'm going to be just fine.

Paglia.