Now for the very bad thing: Woody Allen’s letter to the New York Times. Ashley has a thorough takedown analysis, which is how I learned there was a letter. There’s no need for me to add anything but I don’t always do these things based on need…and I can’t resist, because it’s so revolting.
TWENTY-ONE years ago, when I first heard Mia Farrow had accused me of child molestation, I found the idea so ludicrous I didn’t give it a second thought. We were involved in a terribly acrimonious breakup, with great enmity between us and a custody battle slowly gathering energy. The self-serving transparency of her malevolence seemed so obvious I didn’t even hire a lawyer to defend myself.
What a self-serving self-absorbed empathy-free piece of shit. They were “involved” in a “breakup” with “great enmity” because he had started secretly fucking one of her daughters. Her putative “malevolence” would be seen by any non-pathologically selfish onlooker as understandable upset at this turn of events. He doesn’t even mention it. That’s the first paragraph and it sets the tone. The guy is a complete shit.
I had been going out with Mia for 12 years and never in that time did she ever suggest to me anything resembling misconduct.
Not true. He was seeing a therapist because of his inappropriate behavior with Dylan.
Now, suddenly, when I had driven up to her house in Connecticut one afternoon to visit the kids for a few hours, when I would be on my raging adversary’s home turf, with half a dozen people present, when I was in the blissful early stages of a happy new relationship with the woman I’d go on to marry — that I would pick this moment in time to embark on a career as a child molester should seem to the most skeptical mind highly unlikely. The sheer illogic of such a crazy scenario seemed to me dispositive.
Oh, oh, oops, he forgot to mention something! He forgot to mention that “the woman” he was in the blissful early stages of a happy new relationship with was Mia’s daughter and Dylan’s sister.
Last week a woman named Stacey Nelkin, whom I had dated many years ago, came forward to the press to tell them that when Mia and I first had our custody battle 21 years ago, Mia had wanted her to testify that she had been underage when I was dating her, despite the fact this was untrue. Stacey refused. I include this anecdote so we all know what kind of character we are dealing with here. One can imagine in learning this why she wouldn’t take a lie-detector test.
We? We? What kind of character we are dealing with here? Who’s we, kemosabe?
There’s a lot more of the same. The guy’s a piece of crap.
(This is a syndicated post. Read the original at FreeThoughtBlogs.)

