The Eternal Perils of Penis
Till Lindemann, DJ Paul Oakenfold, Bill Cosby (again), Benjamin Millepied have all gotten their cranks caught in their proverbial zippers. Is this the new rule, and no longer the exception?
“Oh god. I don’t want to hear it.”
It was culture critic Cintra Wilson on her discovery that Martin Luther King may not have been the most faithful husband. Up against his deeds of derring do in regards to the struggle for civil rights and a full acknowledgement that this would more than likely lead to his death, he may have strayed. Something we know, not because anyone complained but, because of the highly closeted former head of the FBI, J. Edgar Hoover’s attempts to smear the man. An effort that’s gained no real purchase.
And yet, still, it stuck in Wilson’s craw.
The list continues. Gandhi sleeping with naked virgins. John F. Kennedy’s claim that “I'm never through with a girl until I've had her three ways,” presumably anal, oral and vaginal, as found in The Funniest Thing You Never Said by Rosemarie Jarski, and most assuredly covered in his multiple extramarital affairs. Albert Einstein’s marriage contracts. And the list goes on, and disturbingly on.
Up to, and on the occasion of this past week’s malefactors, Till Lindemann from Rammstein’s sex assaults and drink spiking, DJ Paul Oakenfold masturbating, Louis CK style, in front of an assistant in her 20s, Bill Cosby (again) facing new charges after an extension of the statute of limitations on past sex crimes, and Benjamin Millepied, aka Mr. Natalie Portman, on his infidelities with a 25-year-old climate control activist.
Because I both feel sorry for him [Lindemann] and totally do not feel sorry for him…how could he not know this wouldn’t be OK’d by anyone he’d need to OK it? That is, how could he be so fucking stupid?
And “we” all do the same thing post facto, which amounts to SMDH, or shaking my damn head, and wonder, some version of WTF?
But why “we”? Because it’s not really we, not when not a single man, if truth be told, finds any of this confusing in the slightest. But recognizing the difference between which hills to die on and which to just walk on by is probably a key to the continuation of the species. Besides there is a difference between actual crimes, presumably Lindemann, Oakenfold, Cosby and a raft of professional athletes from every sport, most tellingly from my neck of the woods, the multiple sexual assault allegations thrown at MMA fighter Conor McGregor, and bad taste calls.
Lying and cheating is serious enough to have warranted a commandment as it is a social destabilizer, but realistically half of the lying and cheating is just the civil side of the coin. We don’t dig it, especially, but hey…different strokes for different folks willing to stroke it.
So, why does this Lindemann thing stick in my craw?
Because I both feel sorry for him and totally do not feel sorry for him. On the one hand while even a cursory glance through his body of work might indicate that he’d be up to such things, ignorance of this is not carte blanche for his substandard behavior. Moreover, how could he not know this wouldn’t be OK’d by anyone he’d need to OK it? That is, how could he be so fucking stupid?
And this query is being levied by a singer in a band about which you might say the same. OXBOW’s mid-career record An Evil Heat, is an almost steady meditation on sexual excess and even opens its nine-song descent into such from the devil’s whorehouse. Stage shows in the past during this period have included a heavy dollop of sex, public nudity and masturbation. Over a three decade career this was not a career marker that was usual or habitual, but it happened.
Yet…an awareness of lines. Not to avoid punishment. But just in the name of, say, good taste? Does that work when discussing sex, public nudity and masturbation?
It’s a telling preference and also heightens my desire to beat them to within an inch of their lives. And points to something else, or rather not anything else other than the crippled masculine, in the Jungian sense.
Well, let’s say it does. Moreover, and whether we’re talking Louis CK or Cosby or Lindemann (who is innocent until proven guilty it seems), there always seems to be an element of subterfuge. Not macro subterfuge, that is about stuff that could easily be gleaned: if someone is married or not. But micro subterfuge: “why don’t you come up to discuss XYZ?” when the real item on the menu was “you’re going to watch me masturbate.”
And if the latter would you not say so if you were not more aroused by the subterfuge?
At his height it could be argued that Cosby could have had any number of willing sex partners but like the song by the band X suggests (“Johnny Hit and Run Pauline”) it’s the “no” line that he liked stepping over. And this is the part that makes me murderous.
“The best part about temptation,” said Church of Satan head Anton LaVey, “is yielding to it.” Sagely put, but that’s not necessarily the best part of punishment. And then there’s something else: why are all of the victims, almost always, so fucking young?
It’s a telling preference and also heightens my desire to beat them to within an inch of their lives. And points to something else, or rather not anything else other than the crippled masculine, in the Jungian sense. It’s just too easy. Way too easy.
Which all begs the question, is it possible to be a man while being a man? Or rather, scumbag-ily being a man while still exhibiting manly virtues? Al Pacino, the octogenarian actor with the 29-year-old girlfriend, said it best as the character Tony Montana: “even when I lie I tell the truth!”
And that is the very essence of what we should honestly be shooting for. The no-surprise rule or at the very least one that leaves people saying in the face of whatever allegation might arise: that is consistent with the man’s character…as I’ve known it. This would at least remove the stupidly surprised face “we” wear when faced with yet another bad actor who seemed, for at least a small moment of time, above all of this (we’re looking at you Keanu).
Beyond that there should be something else: please shitcan the threadbare denials. Will there ever be someone who thus busted for a bad taste infraction (not an actual crime) takes the lectern and announces to all of the world that cares to listen: “so…you GOT me!”? This would be refreshingly different and wherein my solemn promise sits. Even when I am lying to you I will endeavor to make that the most in-character lie ever, which begs another question: is it really a lie if we both know that the liar is telling a lie?
I don’t think so. It’s a tastefully performed way to deliver the worst kind of news. Something I thought of when being deported from Canada in 1995 as an “undesirable alien”.
“I’m going to find out what the fuck you are doing in my country!” screamed the immigration officer. I, marshaling, all of my years of acting “skill” sat back in the chair they had given me in lockdown, exhaled and smiled before delivering the Oscar worthy riposte: “what COULD I be doing in your country?”
“That’s it! You’re out!”
Though they walked me through the airport in handcuffs and shoved me on the first plane back to the States that they could find, I felt weirdly liberated because, I guess, the truth can actually set you free.
Outside of this though how about you older male “celebrities” and athletes let young women just be young women without your unnecessary and unhelpful predation?
Like: try that for a change. Yeah?
You like these stories? More like them await in the upcoming memoir (August 2023), A WALK ACROSS DIRTY WATER + INTO MURDERER’S ROW (Feral House). Pre-order it now.
GAH! Would that ALL men of age-challenged, celebrity-ridden status just leave the young'uns alone. I got harassed by men who should have known better (married), one in a freakin' insurance office no less (way too old), and nothing came of it, of course. Back in the 70s, y'know? At this point in my life, I'm really tired of hearing about it too.
Just.
Please.
STAHHHHHP.
We're all so fucking alienated that Montoya's quip also leads to its antithesis- We haven't the slightest clue of truth overall. Not in social terms. If someone owns a bad taste act, many will assume it's meant to distract from some imaginary thing that's far worse, and that's their truth.