You can read the post here.
Now it's thirty years later. He had a career that gave him money and fame, but he wasn't happy. The ensuing rant isn't new, but it's funny when it comes out of Goldthwait's mouth: Fame and fortune does not necessarily lead to happiness. As a matter of fact, it almost certainly leads in the exact opposite direction, for certain kinds of people. "Being the man's dancing monkey was fucking horrible," he writes.
And then there's this little gem: "I have no interest in making R-rated studio comedies with the sole purpose of entertaining teenagers. I hate teenagers. I think most of them are fucking idiots. Christ, I hated teenagers when I WAS a teenager. Besides, I will be 50 this year, so how the hell would I know what teenagers like?"
This is just one artist's journey, another warning to heed. It--the journey--is going to different for each and every one of us, as different and personal as our own fingerprints.
Goldthwait eventually found his niche as a director and writer of his own films, and of his own art. It helps that he knew Jimmy Kimmel, who gave him work. I'm sure it helped that he knew a few other people who he doesn't name. But you can simply skip the entire post if you wanted, and go directly to the last paragraph. It's what we all know and what we should have taped to the mirror in the bathroom so it's the first thing we see in the morning and the last thing at night:
"My point is this—if you want to be happy in showbiz (or any creative field), listen to that voice inside you. Even if it says “Fuck it” sometimes. Work with your friends. Avoid chasing fame or money. Just do what you want to do, when and how you want to do it. And if it’s not making you happy, quit. Quit hard, and quit often. Eventually you’ll end up somewhere that you never want to leave."