gratitude-a-thon day 650: life imitating art

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Shall we talk about Bill Cosby? Dr. Shmuckstable, Dr. Fuckedupstable. I mean, is it even possible that the moralizing Jell-o shilling, lovable comedian is really a rapist?

Seriously? Fat Albert is a fat liar?

In his own words, he has admitted that he did indeed give qualludes to women in an effort to have sex with them (despite denying it in public for years). And in their own words, these abused women knew something weird happened, something that made them pass out, and wake up without clothes, feeling like they’d been conked on the head by that iron that Wile E. Coyote was always dropping on the Roadrunner.

The worst part is that many of these women doubted themselves, couldn’t quite pinpoint what happened, but suspected there was something not right about it. These women didn’t come forward because the power of celebrity is too strong. It silences, terrifies, and ultimately allows for bad behavior.

What about Camille, his poor long suffering wife. Has she not said anything because she didn’t know, or because she’s been drugged all these years?

Actors are not the people they pretend to be. They are just people who often make mistakes like the rest of us. And like the rest of us, they have to decide to be truthful, or not. The truth is, while a philanthropist who has done a lot of good,  Bill Cosby doesn’t have the moral character he pretended to have. And that’s a big disappointment. Dr. Huxtable would come forward now and tell the truth. Let’s hope life can imitate art, and Mr. Cosby can now act with as much integrity as the character he played on tv.

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