It’s not Louis C.K. who changed; it’s us, and we’re worse for it

Did you hear any of that Louis C.K. tape that leaked the other day? It’s awful! America’s most hated comic is back doing some small shows, and apparently, on Dec. 16, he let loose a barrage of insensitive, terrible material. He made fun of the word “retarded.” He made fun of the activist students from Parkland High School. He made fun of non-binary people.

Predictably, the media tore into him. Just shredded him.

Then some other tapes leaked. He also did a bit about child molesters. Here’s a sample: “When you consider the risks in being a child molester … there’s no worse life available to a human than being a caught child molester. And yet they still do it. You can only really surmise that it must be really good, from their point of view, not ours, it must be really amazing for them to risk so much.”

I mean, my goodness! Child molestation, much like the Parkland shooting and intellectually disabled people, are just not funny.

Except … that bit was from 2015, broadcast on “Saturday Night Live,” and no one said boo about it.

Then back in 2013 he had this thing, call it the “of course but maybe” bit, where he ridiculed kids with nut allergies, saying “... anybody who manufactures or serves food needs to be aware of deadly nut allergies. Of course. But maybe, maybe if touching a nut kills you, you’re supposed to die.” He went on to play the same thought game with military veterans and slavery.

For this, he won an Emmy award.

My point: Making jokes about the word “retarded” (I have a ton to say on that word, stay tuned for a future column), the Parkland survivors, and non-binary people can certainly be regarded as tasteless and off-putting.

But uh … making jokes about slavery, military veterans, kids with nut allergies, and child molesters isn’t exactly the stuff of polite conversation either.

Let’s pretend for a moment the older stuff never aired. Pretend he never used it. Let’s further pretend that’s the stuff he decided to go with in those December comedy club shows. The public outcry would be exactly the same. People would be losing their minds over these jokes. The nut allergy contingent would be going bananas. Child molestation survivors would be on CNN. The slavery bit — where he posited that the greatest human achievements wouldn’t have happened without slaves — well, seriously.

My point? It’s not Louis C.K. who’s changed. It’s us. And I don’t like it one bit. We’re all of a sudden the most touchy people the world has ever seen, and it will absolutely kill comedy. If we can’t make fun of sad things, if every single group of people is offlimits, then we’re done.

Let’s not forget: Comedy bursts forth from, as Steve Allen put it back in a “Cosmopolitan” interview from 1957, tragedy. It’s the tragic events that are grist for the comedy mill. Your friend walking through an open sliding glass door isn’t funny; your same friend walking straight into a sliding glass door is hilarious.

Then, there’s the time factor, as Allen pointed out.

“I guess you can make a mathematical formula out of it,” he said. “Tragedy plus time equals comedy.”

Think of it this way: It’s absolutely OK to crack jokes about the Revolutionary War, but try your Parkland jokes out onstage and see how it flies.

One of C.K.’s greatest gifts as a comedian was (is) being able to remove “time” from the equation. He would create a new hour long set from scratch every year and perform it. It stayed topical. He went where others wouldn’t.

Of course, this was before we found out he was fond of whipping out his manhood and pleasuring himself in front of women who were not exactly enamored with the notion.

But that’s the past. We can discuss all day long if Louis C.K. deserves a second chance (he does) but what we can’t be arguing about is the actual comedy. If you liked C.K. before, and if you were comatose for the last 18 months, and then awoke to this leaked tape, you probably wouldn’t think anything had changed.

I listened to the show on YouTube. It wasn’t C.K.’s best work. The jokes were a bit cruder than normal. But let’s not forget this is how a comedian works: They do their material in small clubs, see what works, what doesn’t, then hone it. It’s a process.

And finally, know this: There’s an element of “fake news” to the coverage of this performance.

Take the “retarded” bit as an example. His point throughout the near-five minute routine was that the only reason we’ve decided “retard” is a bad word is because non-intellectually challenged people use it as an insult to one another. (He’s right, by the way.) (I should also probably note I have an intellectually challenged child, so save your angry emails.) Yes, sure, he was at times crude about it, but no cruder than he was during his “Of course but maybe” heydey.

And what hasn’t been reported, not once, not anywhere, was how he ended the bit.

“If you want to help a group of people don’t just change the thing you call them,” he said. “Be nice to them. Do something for them.” He then worked blue from there, but his point was pretty well-reasoned and, mostly, pretty damn funny.

And my point to this whole column? Loosen the hell up, America.