Adrift In A Sea Of Ignoramuses

The Kid’s favorite comedian is Louie C. K.

Maybe not so much, now.

She is, she said, very disappointed that someone who could come across as funny and insightful would be revealed as so disturbed.

She was in the kitchen making dinner when a report of his contribution to the latest cultural catastrophe came over the evening news.

“Eww–” she said. “Gross!”

I immediately changed the channel to an Ivy League football game I could not have cared less about.

Because I knew the ensuing conversation around the dinner table would better be steered by her parents than by any news anchorperson.

My gender–perhaps deservedly–did not emerge from the conversation, say, covered in glory. Tarred would be more accurate–especially by the Chief.

I don’t know any men who would behave as Harvey Weinstein and Louie C. K. et al. have–at least, I don’t think so. But the Chief has had a much different life experience.

“Men,” she said, “are dogs.”

We’re at an interesting crossroads, culturally speaking, where–at long last–sexual impropriety of any stripe is suddenly intolerable. I’ve always thought it so–but, as I’ve said, I don’t believe I’ve ever known any of these predatory fiends.

I’ve never so much as witnessed a grope, cat-call or wolf-whistle.

I have therefore failed to realize, apparently, just how pervasive a cancer this is. I can’t help but wonder, then, if this somehow makes me complicit.

On the plus side of the ledger, the Chief has adjusted to me.

On the minus side, these predatory fiends seem to freely swim in a sea of ignoramuses like me. And, no–I’m not taking a bow.

It is curious how all this translates with celebrity. If you appreciate a certain performer it comes as an almost unbelievable blow if he is revealed as personally less than some character he portrays.

Old hat, I know, but still a dark night of the soul.

I hope we’re at a moment, now, when even verbal sexual predation–harassment–is stamped out. After all, the acceptance of marriage equality came suddenly after a quest lasting decades.

But this would require men–all men, even homosexual men, in light of Kevin Spacey’s alleged misconduct–to magically change, from the president on down to our state assemblyman.

Not only am I not taking a bow, I’m not holding my breath.

Sexual assault, it seems to me, is more about power–perhaps rage–than anything sexual. I can’t even imagine it.

Harassment, on the other hand–including crude sexual comments–seem casually demonstrative of an assumed ownership.

“Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?”

The Shadow may know–it turns out I have no clue.

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