My upcoming blog posts will sometimes contain the names of people who have recently been on Mr. Maron's WTF podcast. I have zero affiliation with any of these people I may mention, and only use their actual names because they were a public part of Mr. Maron's recent interviews that dealt directly with the subject of child sexualization/objectification and exploitation. These people have zero personal connection to me, my blog, or my views. I mean these people absolutely no offense. I deeply appreciate their willingness to openly speak about this personal and painful subject. Current and future victims can only be spared future pain if those old enough to fully comprehend their past experiences can be free to speak of those experiences without fear of blame or re-exploitation.
I sincerely enjoy Mr. Maron's gift for comedy. That hasn't changed. My respect for some of his behavioral choices dropped dramatically after my millennial moment. That drop quickly infused my writing in the emails I sent to wtfpod.com.
My tendency toward sarcastic writing as a way to vent anger and pain can be seen throughout these words I sent. Writing is the only way I have ever been able to coherently express anything I am feeling, as my ability to vocalize such emotions is almost non-existent. This all ended up giving my emails a tone that is more often found in those letters people are told to write, and then burn, in order to process the hurtful experiences they have gone through. If there were no current or future victims in harms way because of Mr. Maron's behavioral choices, that is probably where these emails would have ended up, as smoke and ashes drifting up from that digital cloud where these words were origanlly sent. Of course, if there were no such current or potential future victims, these emails wouldn't have been written in the first place.
My emails to Mr. Maron quickly took on a form of writing I have never before naturally employed. A sort of stream-of-consciousness, geared toward 2nd person, a point of view I have rarely used, and didn't appreciate much.
The following is an email I sent to Mr. Maron on Sept 20, 2022, 7:16 AM, subject line "Imagined Scenarios."
"Mr. Maron,
You often mention your ability to imagine scenarios inside your mind. Because of that, I think you might have the capacity to follow some guided imagery. Let's give it a go, 'kay?
We are starting with the moment Bradley Whitford began to tell you about his experience with child sexual abuse. Place yourself back in that moment when you were with him as he did this. Remember his spoken cadence, tone, facial expressions. Hear how he was no longer vocalizing in a manner normal for him. Hear how the child he once was, is actually present in his voice. Can you do this? It might be easier if you make yourself relisten to that part of the interview. Close your eyes and let yourself really hear, and listen to, how that broken child from those moments of abuse is still in there, in the adult voice of Mr. Whitford. Hear how that child was trying to describe the worst parts of what was actually happening to that child during the abuse. Mr. Whitford was describing, in the voice of that child, the worst part of child sexual abuse. Little, trusting, naive young Bradley, thought that what was happening was actually something special, something teetering on real emotions, something that was meaningful. That child was trusting a person everyone in society tells children they can trust. That child was not at all able to see, in the moments of the abuse, that he was being horribly harmed because the person who was harming him did not at all feel anything decent or loving for that child. That person was using their power, their position, their appearance of maturity in society, to fuck with the body of a child, all while conning that child into thinking what was happening was special. There is no way that child could ever know what was really happening, how they were being conned completely into allowing a person to use their body. As years pass, this is the worst thing that happens to survivors of sexual abuse. They slowly come to realize how the reason they did not say "No," the reason they did not run or fight, the reason the child could be used at all, is because they really thought what was happening was "love." It is only with maturity that sexual abuse survivors can ever hope to come to understand all of this, and this realization is the pain that gets worse over time, not better. The understanding of how they were harmed hurts more and more, the older a person gets. And abuse survivors cannot risk saying how this is the worst part of the lifelong damage they carry, because the minute they admit they thought it was a "special" thing that was happening to them while they were being abused, people tell them that they caused the abuse, because they wanted it. Bradley Whitford was trying to explain all of this, in a small way, in the broken words and heart of a child.
Abuse survivors are ripped to pieces by this. It is why the abuse of children and vulnerable and damaged people is so insidious and cruel. Unless the abuse is a violent attack that causes only pain, an abuse survivor feels like they were not really abused, because they did not say no. The person in power knows damn well their abuse victim is trusting them, that victim does not understand what is happening. That is what predators do. They seek out those too young or damaged to know what the predator is really doing.
Now, I am going to walk you through something that a straight man might have a hard time understanding. Please, try to follow the imagery while leaving your own sexual orientation out of it.
Imagine Bradley Whitford, trying to tell this story to a counselor, or a college professor, or a pastor, or a comedian doing a podcast. The moment Mr. Whitford starts telling the story, he actually re-enters the part of him that is that broken child. He re-enters the pain, the vulnerability, the naivete, as he tells the story. The person who is listening reaches out and touches Bradley's shoulder, and pulls him into their arms. Mr. Whitford will probably cry, and the child he once was will lean in to try and find the comfort that broken child needed so badly. Now the counselor/teacher/pastor/comedian, does something that makes the broken child in Bradley respond as the child he once was. Things become sexual.
Let's stop right here. When did things actually become sexual in this scenario? The moment the person listening started to listen, they already knew what was going to happen. They knew Bradley would be entering his child frame of mind, he would be that broken child, needing to feel real love. But that child still believes that what the abuser did was love. So Bradley will be responding to the "compassion" shown by the person listening to their pain. For the counselor/pastor/teacher/comedian, the whole situation was sexual, from the moment they leaned in to listen to a story that they knew was going to turn them, as the predator, on. For Mr. Whitford, it is just him, trying to get comfort in the way that child first thought they were experiencing love and comfort. So, the age of the counselor/pastor/teacher/comedian is actually irrelevant. If this scenario had been what happened after Mr. Whitford's talk with you, you would be the predator, even though Mr. Whitford is older than you. He has a broken part of himself that will always be at risk of being redamaged by any person who uses that child's pain to get sexual pleasure in the guise of comfort and compassion. Please, reread the last two sentences over and over. Print them out and put them on your bathroom mirror. Say them like a fucking mantra. EVERY broken female that you have fucked because you knew how they were broken, is a person you victimized, as surely as it would have been you victimizing Mr. Whitford if you had turned the moments after his interview into a trip to your fucking bed.
Try to really sit with this.
I have more to type, but whatever is guiding me or pushing me or driving me to send these emails says this is enough for now. I hope you will reread this email until you truly understand it.
Sigh Lentz"
