The Day Louis C K Broke my Heart

I do not subscribe to the cult of celebrity.
Never have, beyond teenybopper crushes on Corey Haim and the New Kids. But those feelings had no basis in reality, I knew I wanted them, but what I wanted? No idea yet. Just whispers and ideas in the dark at slumber parties. Kissing and then…and no and then.

Being famous doesn’t make you a good person.
Let that sink in
These people on this list and everyone in Hollywood or political office or police force or any other positions of any kind of power are still fucking human…and just like any other human they can be angels or monsters or any shade of grey between the two.
Fucking athletes too.
We glorify these people and somehow expect them to behave better.

Then we have these two, very opposite reactions when they do fuck up. We pounce and celebrate their fall from grace, or we rush to defend them.

Huh?

You do not know this person. You have seen them on a screen, that is not who they are. Wake up buttercup.

I was working in a strip club far, far away the day Robin Williams died. I plugged my phone in to charge for an hour or two and heard the news when I logged back in. That hit me in the childhood. I will admit, I cried a bit when I got home. Difference here being, a lot of his work was His, he improvised a lot of dialog, and by all accounts he was a good man.

Carrie Fisher, same note. Except she had a great life so I did not mourn.

I will admit I had never heard of Harvey Weinstein before the news broke a few weeks ago.

Was I shocked that a man who wielded that kind of power abused it?

Nope.

Absolute power corrupts absolutely.

He had their careers in his pocket. Used his (presumably) micro-penis as the key to the kingdom.

The average dude walking down the street has no idea the kind of power he has over me, late at night, dark street, walking my dog. My heart beats in my chest I look for weapons and escape routes, street lights, people…anything really that gets me away from the perceived danger.

He could be the nicest man in the world but in vulnerable circumstances, my brain immediately switches to fight or flight, and until #metoo became a thing, I don’t think all men knew this. They were quick to dismiss ‘but I’m safe’, not all men though’.

Maybe not all, but a fucking lot.

I slept with a man for almost 2 years, casually, we had an agreement/arrangement and it suited us just fine until one night, I wasn’t feeling it and he didn’t care how I felt. I did the thing almost all women have done, which is just give in, grin and bear it until it’s over and it’s safe to leave.
Then never go back.

That was just once out of countless times I forced back my rage to stay safe. I am tired of choking on it.

That is the problem, too many times to count…

I have lost count of the number of women who were assaulted by Bill Cosby, and for months after the fact, even now, there still exists people who say “no, he couldn’t have”. Mind you there are flat-earthers and those who think dinosaurs are a hoax too. The ignorance of man knows no bounds.

I have a short list of celebrities I would sit on a park bench with.

Tom Waits

Keanu Reeves

Russel Brand

Last week, it got shorter.

I had a grown woman crush on Louis C K.
I jokingly said I would fuck the shit out of him, never wanted to marry him as he seemed like that was something he would never do again, but ya, I was sexually attracted to him. I mentioned it to a friend of mine and he thanked me for giving hope to smart, funny gingers all over the world.
The difference between Jeff and Louis C K, I have been alone with Jeff many times and the only time I ever saw his dick is when I asked to see it. I feel like had I ever met Louis, it could have gone a different way.
Louis won me over with his logic, his delivery, his humility and how he just seemed so human you know?

And therein is the answer.

These golden calves up on the hill in Hollywood that we bow down and worship are human, and thereby fallible.

Obviously.

But we airbrush them and put them on pedestals so high we can’t see the bags under their eyes or the filth in their hearts.

“Are you not entertained?” Maximus, Gladiator

I was, now I am grossed out.

I can walk into a theater and leave this world for 90 minutes, enraptured and transported by whatever is on screen, but when I walk back out I know that whatever character whatever actor just played for me is not who that person is in real life.

It was different with Louis, he never pretended to be anything he wasn’t…except when it mattered.

He stood up on a stage and said “historically speaking the number one threat to women is men.” Then he did the thing.

I threw up a bit.

Felt like betrayal, not gonna lie. What you say in public doesn’t count for jack shit if what you do in private is the opposite.

But we see this phenomenon over and over. Regular Joe and Jane on the street being positively destroyed by the death of someone they have never met.

And now this.

It is a type of death really. The death of perception.

Like having a soft chewy oatmeal cookie in front of you and taking a bite only to discover those are Not chocolate chips, but raisins instead.

Which is basically how much this has affected my life. Its just raisins and a little bit of disappointment.

These women who are coming forward to tell their stories of how men have treated them in private have the real battle to fight here. Starting with public opinion, which, guys…really means jack shit.

I see a reckoning coming.

I see women getting more powerful by the day.

I see men being afraid.

They should be, this is a witch hunt and the witches are the ones coming for them this time.

Two lines from Hollywood movies keep running through my head…

“We are not things” Mad Max Fury Road

And

“This is all man’s bullshit, they make the weather then stand in the rain and say ‘shit it’s raining’.”
Cold Mountain

Every day this stays in the media, every new parasitic worm that gets dragged into the light and exposed, the more powerful I feel. Kinda like I did walking out of Wonder Woman.

I feel something changing in me and hopefully in other women.

Personally?

I’m done.

No more pressure sex

No more benefit of the doubt

No more rape jokes

No more giving guys a chance.

Burden of proof is on you now.

Prove to me you aren’t guilty

Prove to me you don’t condone and perpetuate rape culture.

There is no earthly reason for me to entertain you.

I pay my own bills and get myself off just fine.

No more getting away with it.

Get used the word NO said loud and often.

And no…its not a challenge.