On the Casting Couch With Harvey Weinstein, Waiting for the Next Naive Little Morsel of Piglet

NEW YORKER MAGAZINE EXPOSE  

WISH I HAD SOMETHING CLEVER OR INSIGHTFUL TO ADD TO THIS DISGUSTING, DEPRAVED STORY. I don't. I only wonder why more aspiring professional women don't learn the rules of the casting couch---in all professions and walks of life---at much younger ages. They're pretty simple: Keep your clothes on and aspiring body parts inside; stay vertical and at arms length to the object of your aspirations at all times; meet in an office or public place with people around; refuse any private tours of anything, especially of Harvey's 'kitchen,' bedroom, or hotel room; remember, business is never productive for the long haul when alcohol, drugs or physical contact of any kind are involved. Finally, most importantly, too quick, hyper- flattery is not ever about you, really. It's about Big Harvey starting to get hungry and tracking his next mess of slop piglet, so he can then go take a nap in his favorite mud hole.

We should also never forget---it takes two to tango and if you break these rules, you'll need to take responsibility for your side of the equation for enabling The Big, Insatiable Pig you're helping to create and perpetuate.   The call to the casting couch is in all professions and walks of life.  After Harvey, there's a legion of others.