Wednesday 5/22/24
Just read a story--and more--about a man who's a rape case regular named Muckey, late of the New York Philharmonic, and his co-conspirator, a guy named Wang. That's seriously their names. Muckey and Wang.
Then I read hundreds of comments from people aware of such behavior, victims to such behavior, witnesses to such behavior, and so forth. Accustomed to such behavior.
Am I the only person in the arts not raping people and/or evil? I do two things: I write, and I run stairs. I haven't even gone on a date in ten years. And somehow, I'm more hated than rapists and what are the worst people in the world (hated by those rapists and the worst people in the world, who are always running cover for each other, and that includes quid pro quo), who, on top of that, are absolute idiots. The shit that I know, that I'm always learning, that people report to me, that I've experienced firsthand, it just beggars belief that anyone is this evil, let alone that so many people, almost without exception, across an industry--moved on to publishing now, but this is about the arts, really--are so corrupt and wicked. How can so many people, one after another after another after another, be that morally repugnant, twisted, harmful? The New Yorker, The New York Times, Granta. Just evil and filth. So many criminals and sub-human monsters getting away with it. Millionaires. Billionaires.
We'll get some more stuff out there. If you're one of these people, what are you going to do? All you're going to do is hope for the best. That's only going to work for so long.
A lot of people get into the arts because they're a kind of person, not because they have any ability, and not because they care about art, and once they're in the arts they can get away with the worst shit, and they become even worse than they were for starters when they realize that.