by Victoria Alexander
We all know about the scandal of Louis C.K.
Enlightenment philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau, described in his Confessions the origin of his spanking fetish. Rousseau’s arousal required scornful superiority from the woman punishing him: “To fall at the feet of an imperious mistress, obey her mandates, or implore pardon, were for me the most exquisite enjoyments.” In search of this, he would go out and expose his buttocks, hoping for disapproval and a smack from passing women.
In 2017, Louis C.K. released a statement – only the first paragraph here - in response to a report about several women who stepped forward to discuss experiences with him in which he committed acts of sexual misconduct.
“These stories are true. At the time, I said to myself that what I did was O.K. because I never showed a woman my dick without asking first, which is also true. But what I learned later in life, too late, is that when you have power over another person, asking them to look at your dick isn’t a question. It’s a predicament for them. The power I had over these women is that they admired me. And I wielded that power irresponsibly.”
I hoped that SORRY, NOT SORRY was Louis C.K. addressing the scandal that since 2017 destroyed his huge popularity and career. I was a big fan and even was sent a DVD of his film, I LOVE YOU, DADDY, that was not released. SORRY, NOT SORRY comes at a time when Louis C.K. is making a “comeback.”
Considering the brutal beating of Cassie, Sean Comb’s girlfriend in 2016 and the litany of alleged sex crimes he is accused of, Louis C.K. could feel that his career martyrdom is unfair. It was consensual but he had enormous power in the comedy arena. He didn’t force the women to have sex with him, he didn’t drug them, or demand sex for help with their careers. SORRY, NOT SORRY, interviews the women – all of them comedians – who were asked and agreed.
Louis C.K.: “Can I show you my dick?”
Me: “Do I have to touch it?”
Louis C.K.: “No.”
Me: “Okay.”
Louis C.K.: “Then I will jerk off.”
Me: “Do I have to watch?”
Louis C.K. “Yes.”
Me: “Do I get to open for you tonight?”
Louis C.K.: “No.”
Me: “Just once or every time I see you?”
Louis C.K.: “Every time.”
Me: “Is there a monetary bonus involved?”
Louis C.K.: “No.”
Me: “Then it’s a ‘No.’ Just saying, you have a public humiliation fetish. It’s an ‘open secret’ in comedy but your greatest fetish triumph is coming when the whole world knows.”
What happened after C.K. finished? Did he clean up? What did he say?
What about comedian Chris D’Elia and underage girls? What about famed Danny Elfman being accused of giving a woman a martini glass full of his own semen? Did C.K. hold teenage girls hostage as sex slaves like R. Kelly?
Must I say the above conversation is a fantasy?
SORRY, NOT SORRY shows Louis C.K. back on stage talking briefly about the scandal. His comedy, producing, writing and acting career apparently ended in 2017 and all his projects dropped. But could he still be paid for writing for others without attribution?
I love Bill Burr and Anthony Jeselnik. I even bought a ticket to see Anthony Jeselnik live. C.K. has been overtaken and now he must talk about what happened in his act. We want to hear all the details from his perspective.
I hate to sound uncaring, anti-feminist and and anti-MeToo but if this was the only insult the women faced in their years on the comedy circuit, then they got off easy. Imagine what P. Diddy expected from female guests at his parties?
Unfortunately, C.K.’s people come in for criticism since they all knew. They must have felt their percent of his earnings were in jeopardy if telling C.K. to stop. It seems that professional escorts – he could afford them – were not acceptable. He wanted women in his orbit to be disgusted by what he did. In my opinion, what C.K. really wanted was not only facial disgust but verbal humiliation while he masturbated.
SORRY, NOT SORRY interviews other comedians, people C.K. worked with and no one denied knowing his fetish. No one dared say, ‘Well, it’s not like he drugged women like Bill Crosby.’ Why didn’t his manager Dave Becky, instead of warning C.K.’s targets to stop talking about it, but hire “escorts” to pretend they are comedy club waitresses and have them bring C.K. a drink in his dressing room?
The ALL is Mind; The Universe is Mental.”
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Member of Las Vegas Film Critics Society
Personal email: victoria.alexander.lv@gmail.com
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