So I mentioned in one of last night’s posts that I was having a discussion with CF lifer Sam that I’d be bringing up and expanding on in a later post, at his request. His proposition is basically that L’Affaire Weinstein is nothing more nor less than, in his words, “Progressivism writ large.” To wit:
I have been thinking lately about the parallels between progressivism as a whole and the Harvey Weinstein saga. For example most normal thinking people know that the core elements of progressivism are nonsense, yet they go along with it to save jobs, relationships, etc, etc. People are so afraid of the twin howler monkeys of political correctness and leftist dogma. Much the same as the Weinstein stuff was an open secret in Hollywood but the people in the business shielded him to protect themselves from his ability to destroy their jobs and relationships. The Harvey Weinstein saga is progressivism writ large.
On a personal note, I having been greatly enjoying watching all of the sanctimonious bastards in Hollywood be forced to live by their own rules.
I was wondering what your eloquently profane take is on this.
His point is well-taken and damned nigh inarguable on even cursory reflection, but it puts me in mind of another one I’ve been considering ever since the story broke. Actually, for longer than that—ever since every Lefty luminary feigned shock and horror over the Bill Cosby Sleazapalooza “revelations.”
I mentioned at the start of the Weinstein cesspool-dunk that the Hollywood casting couch is hardly some new and startling revelation; it’s been my contention for years that rattling in the closets of any and every successful actor or (especially) actress blessed with even slight physical attractiveness are tawdry skeletons consisting of everything from cheesy nude photos right up to full-on homemade porn flicks, shot right in the offices of producers, directors, and other wielders of Tinseltown power as something of an introductory job interview.
I’ve known quite a few actors over the years, even dated a couple or three—no names you would recognize, other than Marisa Tomei, with whom I had a wee bit more than a nodding acquaintance for a minute there; call it a very casual, occasional, and superficial friendship, and that will be close enough. I have had tiny speaking parts in a couple of movies myself, and even floundered my way through an embarrassingly disastrous reading for the lead-bad-guy role in an indie horror production done by a friend of mine when I was living in NYC which was later picked up for distribution by Troma. With even that limited experience, I can tell you that the ongoing existence and importance of the casting couch to establishing a career in film or TV doesn’t even rise to the level of an open secret among those in the business or associated with it in some more peripheral way.
Here’s the thing, though: it’s not the fact of its existence but the acceptance of that fact that matters here. And despite the current handwringing, it IS accepted—not just by those who control it and enjoy its depraved privileges, but also by those lying back and thinking of England after being forced onto it. Continue reading “The Weinstein-Progressivist axis”