I’m pissed at you.
I’m of course pissed at you because you have caused trauma and stress to people (particularly women) around you, but I’m also selfishly pissed that I (and the rest of the world) will be deprived of your unique humor and wit because you literally could not keep it in your pants appropriately.
Am I surprised? No. Hell, no. Anyone who has listened to your material understands your obsession with masturbation, and how you weirdly sexualize things like newscasters saying “Libya.” Thus, “surprised” is not on my list of emotions. What is?
“Disappointed” tops my list. It is followed by “sad” and “angry” and a whole host of other feelings, but I am selfishly disappointed in no small part due to the fact that I’m probably not going to get to hear new Louis CK material for a very long time, at least not outside trying to recover from this series of stupid, unthinking, even-more-selfish incidents.
Let me tell you about our one-sided history together: I have watched “Live at the Beacon Theater” (sometimes just having it on in the background) several times a month for the last six years; I’ve watched and rewatched “Louie;” I have quoted you and posted clips of my favorite Louis CK bits all over hell and gone whenever even remotely relevant. Some are embedded in my blog posts.
I can’t say I’m your biggest fan because that’s silly, but I was a pretty damn big fan. I’m not a “fan” kind of person, either: I’m not generally possessed of a desire to meet celebrities (other than a brief series of childhood fantasies about living with The Fonz and sleeping in the same bed with him – I was five at the time, so I didn’t even know what that was about,) and I don’t get starstruck often. But you? I thought you’d be amazing to sit around and hang out with. I’ve wanted to talk to you about your experiences, ask questions about some of your material. Sure, I knew you’d have less than zero interest in doing so, but that didn’t much matter. There was this tiny little voice in my head sheepishly saying, “maybe we could be friends.” That probably would have been a disaster, much like your “maybe something nice will happen [on a date]” – straight into the shitter.
Not only did you nail the comedy, but you also reached deeply into uncomfortable topics, into awkward situations (typically where you were the subject, but not always,) and you offered poignant insights into the overall human condition that not a lot of other people would even touch. I fucking miss that, man. There were some moments in “Louie” when I literally had to avert my eyes to tone down the mortification factor. The woman who broke down crying about her daddy in the middle of sex? Yeah.
We’re of a similar age, and I am also divorced/single/alone, so I related to a metric honkload of your material in that groove. In the pilot with Chelsea Peretti? Holy shit, dude, I wanted to claw my eyes out and slither under the floor at each inept pass. I don’t think that could have been any more awkward unless you… oh. I was going to say, “unless you actually took out your cock and started masturbating on the bench,” but that’s just a little too on the nose now, isn’t it?
There is a less-selfish disappointment, too, one not born of “but now I can’t get my Louis CK fix!”
I really thought you were one of the good guys.
Truly. I thought you were self-aware enough not to be That Guy. I thought, based on some of your comedy bits and show dialogue that you really Got It, that you understood women have a shitty, terrible time out there in some respects, and that you wouldn’t perpetuate that kind of bullshit yourself. To be fair, from what I understand, these incidents happened years ago, and maybe you’ve been working to atone for them. I dunno. That matters, but it matters less than you might think.
Your issued statement takes a fair amount of responsibility, at least. It’s heartening to know you understand why what you did was wrong – maybe you are just parroting what you’ve been reading in the #MeToo movement, but it at least sounds genuinely remorseful (if a bit defensive, but in your situation, it’s really hard to be utterly gracious and humble; of course you want to try to defend yourself to a degree. It’s an embarrassing, shitty predicament you’ve put yourself in with huge ramifications. I have no idea if I’d be able to handle it myself.)
When Al Franken’s photo came out, I started a blog post about all of this and couldn’t ever publish it – this recent surge of allegations and reactions is a complicated phenomenon on so many levels, it’s damn near impossible to discuss honestly without sounding like a.) an apologist for predators, b.) an obsessive feminist or vitcim, or c.) an ignorant, indifferent passer-by. I have questions about what the right and wrong repercussions are for men (like you) who have committed these acts. Asking those questions makes me sound like one of the three types above. Not that anyone on the internet would ever conceivably jump down anyone else’s throat, mind you, especially when discussing a hot topic such as sexual predation… oh, wait.
When I think about this, I don’t think about it in terms of “I, too, am a sexual abuse annd assault survivor who gets harassed often.” I am (one incident is described here,) but that’s not the overriding thought in my lobes – the predominant mantra is a toddler-esque “but it’s not faaaaaiiirrrrr” followed by catching myself (literally several times on any given day) thinking about material that’s somehow relevant to the moment at hand. Fuck, that sounds obsessive and stalkery, which I don’t think I am: Some people think about “Star Wars” as it relates to their lives, some people think about “Lord of the Rings,” others think about “The Wire” (the poor bastards;) it’s all about what and who we relate to. Me, I relate to motorcycles, [insert long list of boring things no one wants to hear about,] and you. Irrespective of whether either one of us likes it, you’re in my head, man. From what I can tell, we have a lot in common. Yayyyyy. <sigh>
That’s about all I’ve got right now, Louis. These thoughts have been bumping around in my head for months now, and I had to get them out in whatever inept form they took. I know there is an approximately zero percent chance you’ll ever see this, but, while I’d like for you to see it, it was more important for me just to clear my head.