I want to address the stories told to the New York Times by five women named Abby, Rebecca, Dana, Julia who felt able to name themselves and one who did not.
These stories are true. At the time, I said to myself that what I did was okay because I never showed a woman my (penis) without asking first, which is also true. But what I learned later in life, too late, is that when you have power over another person, asking them to look at your (penis) isn’t a question. It’s a predicament for them. The power I had over these women is that they admired me. And I wielded that power irresponsibly.
I have been remorseful of my actions. And I’ve tried to learn from them. And run from them. Now I’m aware of the extent of the impact of my actions. I learned yesterday the extent to which I left these women who admired me feeling badly about themselves and cautious around other men who would never have put them in that position.
I also took advantage of the fact that I was widely admired in my and their community, which disabled them from sharing their story and brought hardship to them when they tried because people who look up to me didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t think that I was doing any of that because my position allowed me not to think about it.
There is nothing about this that I forgive myself for. And I have to reconcile it with who I am. Which is nothing compared to the task I left them with.
I wish I had reacted to their admiration of me by being a good example to them as a man and given them some guidance as a comedian, including because I admired their work.
The hardest regret to live with is what you’ve done to hurt someone else. And I can hardly wrap my head around the scope of hurt I brought on them. I’d be remiss to exclude the hurt that I’ve brought on people who I work with and have worked with who’s (sic) professional and personal lives have been impacted by all of this, including projects currently in production: the cast and crew of Better Things, Baskets, The Cops, One Mississippi, and I Love You Daddy (sic). I deeply regret that this has brought negative attention to my manager Dave Becky who only tried to mediate a situation that I caused. I’ve brought anguish and hardship to the people at FX who have given me so much The Orchard who took a chance on my movie and every other entity that has bet on me through the years.
I have spent my long and lucky career talking and saying anything I want. I will now step back and take a long time to listen.
Thank you for reading.
For those who have lived in an undeground missle silo, Louis C.K. is a Mexican-American comedian, actor, writer, producer, director, and editor. “C.K.” is a phonetic simplification of his surname. C.K. began his career in the 1990s and early 2000s writing for several comedians including David Letterman, Conan O’Brien, Dana Carvey, Chris Rock and also for other comedy shows.
Louis C.K. is suddenly the sorriest guy in Hollywood.
The serial masturbator came clean Friday about his filthy behavior, publicly apologizing to his five victims, his family and colleagues in the midst of a massive career implosion.
The Emmy-winning star of the acclaimed “Louie” television series acknowledged the detailed New York Times expose was 100% accurate about his creepy sexual come-ons dating back decades.
Almost instantly, FX Networks and FX Productions — home to the semi-autobiographical show starring the comic — announced they were out of the Louis C.K. business.
Disgraced movie mogul Harvey Weinstein, director Brett Ratner, writer and director James Toback and actors Kevin Spacey and Richard Dreyfuss have recently been accused of sexual misconduct.
Hope Solo, goalkeeper of the U.S. women’s national team, accused former FIFA president Sepp Blatter of grabbing her buttocks in January 2013. And Olympic gold medalist Aly Raisman accused former U.S. gymnastics doctor Larry Nassar of sexual abuse.
Roy Moore, the GOP Alabama candidate for a seat in the Senate, has been accused of sexually abusing a 14-year-old girl when he was 32.
FX dumped C.K. as executive producer on four shows that he was co-producing with the network, including “Baskets” with Zach Galifianakis.
“Now is not the time for him to make television shows,” the network said in a statement. “Now is the time for him to to honestly address the women who have come forward to speak about their painful experiences.”
The five actresses and comedians shared their stories of C.K.’s crude behavior between the early 1990s and 2005. In three cases, he asked the women to watch as he masturbated; in a fourth, he touched himself during a phone call with comedian Abby Schachner.
The stand-up superstar, who sold out four Madison Square Garden shows in 2015, admitted that he used the women’s admiration of his work to lure them and then keep them silent about his bizarre sexual behavior.
“There is nothing about this that I forgive myself for,” the mea culpa continued. “And I had to reconcile it with who I am. Which is nothing compared to the task I left them with.”
The all-encompassing apology came less than 24 hours after The Times’ story went online.
In addition to addressing the women, the statement had C.K. saying he was sorry to his family, his friends, his children, their mother and his manager, Dave Becky.
C.K., after issuing the statement, was left to survey the daunting career rubble caused by his self-gratification.
His new film “I Love You, Daddy” was squashed by indie distributor The Orchard, and Netflix cited his “unprofessional and inappropriate behavior” in pulling out of a deal for an upcoming standup special.
HBO scrubbed C.K. from its “Night of Too Many Stars,” a benefit for autism research, and his previous work on the cable network was erased from its on-demand offerings — including several comedy specials.
The comedian closed his apology by indicating it might be the last time anyone hears from him publicly for a while.
“I have spent my long and lucky career talking and saying anything I want,” concluded C.K. “I will now step back and take a long time to listen.”