When Julien Lacroix resurfaced on social media with his distasteful apology on Monday, I felt like a character from a soap opera.
You know, those people who have their heads wrapped in bandages because they have amnesia?
I no longer remembered exactly what he was criticized for, Julien Lacroix. I just remembered that his name had surfaced this summer in the midst of the wave of denunciations.
I had to refresh my memory for reality to hit me right in the face. I was ashamed, so ashamed, to have “forgotten”.
In all, nine women complained about the comedian’s sexual misconduct, violence and toxicity. No, there are no charges (yet). But, now, does it really change anything?
I would be surprised if these girls had called each other on a Saturday night to start a plot that would lead to the fall of the old star.
Then I remembered that summer even more. And I was in pain. Because I note that there is not much left of all these denunciations where alleged (within the meaning of the law) victims have decided to speak out. To regain their power, above all.
It’s still special to have the impression that we collectively seem to have ALREADY forgotten. Or maybe it’s more convenient?
On the one hand, we have Julien Lacroix who takes himself for the knight of contrition and a horde of fans ready to forgive him. On the other, we have Rozon and Salvail who emerge victorious from the courthouse.
Let us pass over in silence the pages of denunciations deleted because of possible lawsuits or the hatred they generated.
People’s court that sits on social media is not working. At the same time, the system too often fails the victims. What do we have left? I ask the question, for a friend.