Al Franken

Esquire.com has an article by Ana Marie Cox about Al Franken:

I am a constituent of Senator Al Franken. I voted for him. I gave a copy of his latest book to my dad. I've met him a handful of times. I think he's done good, if not great, work in office representing my interests.
In light of the allegations against him, I think he can do even more good by stepping down.
It rankles Franken supporters to have his relatively petty indiscretions lumped in with the criminal accusations against Alabama Senate candidate Roy Moore, as well as the serial assaults that a dozen women have claimed to have suffered at the hands of President Trump. What's more, in obvious contrast to Moore and Trump, Franken has been contrite and apologetic about his behavior. So, people have some questions: doesn't he deserve credit for apologizing? Doesn’t he deserve credit for being an ally to women in every other way? Shouldn't it matter that female staffers and former Saturday Night Live employees have come forward to testify to his character?
To my mind, these would be helpful arguments if Franken's fate was in the hands of a judge or jury. These outside forces can't know the truth of Franken's beliefs or motivations; they can't know if he's "really" a sexual predator, or a sexist, or both. But if Franken were to resign, he could acknowledge that question isn’t one of who he “really” is, but simply: is he prepared to be held accountable for his actions?

To be very clear: I do not think Franken should lose his job as punishment. I think Franken should voluntarily relinquish a privilege in recognition that women’s voices and experiences are more important than his short-term political career.
Many years ago, after a late night out with colleagues, I asked a man I didn't know well, but who had lots of influence and important friends, to walk me to my car. Ironically, I was concerned about my safety. I was turning to thank him when he shoved me up against the driver's side door, grabbed my breasts and, as he ground his hips into mine, said, "How about a ride home?"
It was corny and unexpected, nothing in his arch attitude all evening remotely suggested he was interested in me, and certainly I was not interested in him, so I guffawed in his face. He stepped back, apparently confused that his gambit had failed. I think I got out a breathless "Really?" before he scurried away. His wilted departure was the only thing that made me think his lame pun and gross advance were supposed to lead to anything besides laughter. For years, I told that anecdote with a laugh, too. I didn't consider it assault, just a weird story about a creepy guy.
It took Trump's election for me to stop laughing about it, for me to realize that I was the butt of the joke in that story. After all, I was the person from whom something had been taken. The man who touched me? He lost nothing. He may have even gained. He got to continue his career, and his behavior, while I got a sort-of funny bar story. Each year he accumulated successes, I got another brick in the heavy load of self-doubt that every victim of unwanted advances carries: maybe it really was me.
As long as men who commit acts of sexual predation or violence suffer no consequences, women will carry that weight. Trump's presence in the White House only increases the gravitational pull. As of this writing, there are only two women who have come forward to accuse Franken of inappropriate sexualized touching. Perhaps that's all that there will ever be. The thing I keep coming back to, the thing that drives my belief that something more than an apology is in order, is that photo.
I realize that, of the things Franken has been accused of doing, the picture of him pretending to grope Leeann Tweeden while she's asleep is the least serious. He doesn't even appear to be touching her. Were we to know nothing else about that trip, if that photo simply remained on the camera roll, if she had never seen it, one could argue that it was almost entirely harmless, a childish prank, an artifact of the bad blood that sometimes curdles when people travel in close quarters under less than ideal conditions.
Franken has said the photo was “intended to be funny", but I see a deliberate insult by a man supremely confident in his authority. I see a woman prepared to survive a firefight, but, in the moment, powerless to prevent the most intimate kind of violation. I see a thinly-veiled threat: look at what I did to you. Look at what I did to you without the fear of getting caught. Look at what I did to you and know that I could do it again.
Embedded in that photo is the same message that the election of Donald Trump sent millions of women: when you're a star, they let you do it.

Rico says it's tough to be funny and a Senator, but this bad behavior has gotta stop...