At last, a harsh reckoning has come for sexual harassers and abusers.
Last month’s outing of the loathsome Harvey Weinstein triggered an avalanche of accusations, fanning out from Hollywood. Oliver Stone, Ben Affleck, Kevin Spacey, Steven Seagal, George Takei and many lesser-knowns were revealed as alleged sexual predators.
The recriminations moved from entertainment to the media at large, as women accused commentator Mark Halperin, editor Michael Oreskes and critic Leon Wieseltier of behavior ranging from the caddish to the criminal. This led to the worlds of sports and gastronomy until finally, right where we all knew it would end — the world of politics.
On the latest Ricochet podcast, Minnesotan segue-master James Lileks impugned Steve Martin’s classic “Saturday Night Live” performance of “King Tut” thusly:
“It’s not a funny song, it just isn’t. It’s not a funny bit, there’s nothing really to it that requires anybody to look at it now. Only, sort of, their late Boomer betters saying, ‘oh, Steve Martin is the bomb, you must watch this, this is brilliant,’ but it’s not. You were stoned in college when you watched that and you thought it was funny but it isn’t.”
Lies. Damnable lies. Now, defending any joke is like dissecting a frog: you’ll figure out what makes it tick, but the patient dies in the process. With that said, here’s the bit:
Government allowing people to speak their minds is a recent development. For pretty much all of human history, the common folk only could say what their king, queen or petty despot allowed them to say.
That finally changed 241 years ago as the upstart American republic said that anything goes.
Speak your mind, print what you want, and worship – or don’t. Your fellow citizens might disagree, but your government can’t do anything about it.