It's a shame, for Bill Cosby is an extremely funny guy. I had the good fortunate to see him in Roanoke; my whole family went to see him on my dad's 50th birthday. He went through a lot of new material which was okay (but even okay Bill Cosby is pretty good), but at the end he did the famous "dentist" sketch, and I laughed so hard I had to remind myself to breathe. The next day all my abdominal muscles were sore, I had pulled every single one in a fit of laughter the likes of which I had never experienced, never have since, and probably never will.
It would be stupid of me to rage that Cosby had cost me that memory. For one, it's incredibly narcissistic to mourn the loss of your own memories due to alleged crimes with real victims. For another, it isn't quite true - recounting the memory is still something of a joy, it is still a pleasant memory on the face of it. It's only when I allow myself to reflect on the fact that Cosby may be a serial rapist that get a little nauseous.
The question for me becomes to what extent can one really seperate the artist from the work they do? I suppose it isn't that difficult -- you can appreciate a Van Gogh without knowing much about him, for example. There are hundreds of painters and authors and musicians whose work I enjoy and whom I know very little if nothing about.
But knowing more about the artist often imbues a work with layers that can make it richer while experiencing it. Returning to Van Gogh, if you really understand his life and know that his work utterly consumed him, that somehow in the midst of a miserable life where all those things closest to him were ruined he made these incredible works of art...it makes his work more amazing. Dazzling points of light in the darkness. When you see the textures and violence of the paintings, the wavy cypress trees and the starry nights, you can get a taste for the passion and madness stirring in Van Gogh's breast. It's breathtaking.
The differences between Van Gogh and Cosby are great. Van Gogh destroyed himself while Cosby has allegedly victimized others. The madness of Van Gogh is something that compliments his work and becomes a key to understanding it, while Cosby's alleged crimes go roughly against the grain of a body of work that is mostly grounded in the dynamics of middle class family life.
Is it going to be possible to look at Cliff Huxtable, family man, without thinking about how the man portraying him may be a serial rapist? For me, no.
Is there redemption for Mr. Cosby? If it is all true, I would say it isn't likely. It's true we've seen other great men knocked off their pedestals. Bill Clinton and Newt Gingrich are famous examples of men who have behaved badly but have managed to have a second act (and in Clinton's case maybe even a third). But the difference between them and Cosby is that Clinton and Gingrich never committed a crime. They were indiscreet, they were dumb, they were unfaithful, and yes Clinton lied and yes he has had harassment accusations hang around him like a bad cologne, but those crimes pale in comparison to rape.
Rape is an unpardonable sin. It is a crime of conquest, it is something that the villians of history (and sometimes even its heroes) have done after sacking a city. It is one step below tossing babies onto the tines of pitchforks. It is something that no matter how hard you scrub at it it never fully leaves your person, victim and perpetrator alike.
So no, I doubt I will ever be able to really watch a Bill Cosby show or skit again. I am sad of it. It is perhaps wrong to have already him condemned in my mind as a guilty man, but how often have we seen accusations to this extent turn out to be false?
No question, the man made me laugh harder than anyone else ever will. I don't think he will ever make me laugh again.
Notes:
On Van Gogh destroying himself: In the recent biography Van Gogh: The Life the authors speculate that Van Gogh did not actually kill himself. I think they have an essay on the same subject in this month's Vanity Fair. I have not read the essay, but I know in the book they think he may have been shot by some teenage boys living in his neighborhood. Whether or not Van Gogh committed suicide, I still think its not wrong to say that Van Gogh destroyed himself -- if he had not died of that gunshot wound, I think he would have died of his many excesses in due time, which included alcohol, absinthe, coffee, tobacco, and prostitutes.
On bad cologne: There are many to choose from, but for me I choose Sex Panther. Sex Panther: it's made with bits of real Panther, so you know it's good.
The question for me becomes to what extent can one really seperate the artist from the work they do? I suppose it isn't that difficult -- you can appreciate a Van Gogh without knowing much about him, for example. There are hundreds of painters and authors and musicians whose work I enjoy and whom I know very little if nothing about.
But knowing more about the artist often imbues a work with layers that can make it richer while experiencing it. Returning to Van Gogh, if you really understand his life and know that his work utterly consumed him, that somehow in the midst of a miserable life where all those things closest to him were ruined he made these incredible works of art...it makes his work more amazing. Dazzling points of light in the darkness. When you see the textures and violence of the paintings, the wavy cypress trees and the starry nights, you can get a taste for the passion and madness stirring in Van Gogh's breast. It's breathtaking.
The differences between Van Gogh and Cosby are great. Van Gogh destroyed himself while Cosby has allegedly victimized others. The madness of Van Gogh is something that compliments his work and becomes a key to understanding it, while Cosby's alleged crimes go roughly against the grain of a body of work that is mostly grounded in the dynamics of middle class family life.
Is it going to be possible to look at Cliff Huxtable, family man, without thinking about how the man portraying him may be a serial rapist? For me, no.
Is there redemption for Mr. Cosby? If it is all true, I would say it isn't likely. It's true we've seen other great men knocked off their pedestals. Bill Clinton and Newt Gingrich are famous examples of men who have behaved badly but have managed to have a second act (and in Clinton's case maybe even a third). But the difference between them and Cosby is that Clinton and Gingrich never committed a crime. They were indiscreet, they were dumb, they were unfaithful, and yes Clinton lied and yes he has had harassment accusations hang around him like a bad cologne, but those crimes pale in comparison to rape.
Rape is an unpardonable sin. It is a crime of conquest, it is something that the villians of history (and sometimes even its heroes) have done after sacking a city. It is one step below tossing babies onto the tines of pitchforks. It is something that no matter how hard you scrub at it it never fully leaves your person, victim and perpetrator alike.
So no, I doubt I will ever be able to really watch a Bill Cosby show or skit again. I am sad of it. It is perhaps wrong to have already him condemned in my mind as a guilty man, but how often have we seen accusations to this extent turn out to be false?
No question, the man made me laugh harder than anyone else ever will. I don't think he will ever make me laugh again.
Notes:
On Van Gogh destroying himself: In the recent biography Van Gogh: The Life the authors speculate that Van Gogh did not actually kill himself. I think they have an essay on the same subject in this month's Vanity Fair. I have not read the essay, but I know in the book they think he may have been shot by some teenage boys living in his neighborhood. Whether or not Van Gogh committed suicide, I still think its not wrong to say that Van Gogh destroyed himself -- if he had not died of that gunshot wound, I think he would have died of his many excesses in due time, which included alcohol, absinthe, coffee, tobacco, and prostitutes.
On bad cologne: There are many to choose from, but for me I choose Sex Panther. Sex Panther: it's made with bits of real Panther, so you know it's good.
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