LONDON BUREAU:Mad About "You"
Gutfeld, Greg
L O N D O N B U R E A U Mad About “You” by Greg Gutfeld AM EXTREMELY EXCITED. More excited than usual, because I’ve just had three colas and a chocolate bar. It was a Milky Way, which in...
...This unity is a lie: You may be chatting globally, but you’re alienating yourself locally...
...Sadly, there aren’t any outreach programs for the non-famous, but there should be and this ambivalence strikes me as bigotry...
...I haven’t been outside today...
...L O N D O N B U R E A U Mad About “You” by Greg Gutfeld AM EXTREMELY EXCITED...
...y for example, and I am s one of “You...
...That “something” is almost always a video of a cat vomiting or a teenager falling off a skateboard...
...And not for the neighbors who not one of them was thrown off a cliff...
...Despite being duped into this charade, I still eat it, for it is my dinner and I am riveted to my TV, watching the capture of one suspect in the Ipswich (semi-attractive) hooker murders...
...But Tom should still be proud...
...But it’s also likely if my mom isn’t keeping up with my appetite for novelty, so I can’t be bothered...
...I hate that I can spend hours on the web devouring countless blogs about media types who mean nothing to me, but can barely handle a five-minute conversation with my 82-year-old mom...
...I want to hit them with bricks...
...And I would if I could only find them...
...After all, he was named Time’s Person of the Year...
...I know why: my mom is nuts...
...3 8 THE AMERICAN SPECTATOR F E B R U A R Y 2 0 0 7 G R E G G U T F E L D Meaning, our nation of online commenting cowards— paper tigers who spend their time dehumanizing each other, or rather, people they disagree with, but are too scared to actually say it to their faces...
...I doubt they saw a bump, or even a rash or a zit—because most people who read it pulled the article off the Internet in between bouts of furious selfabuse...
...Thank God for that...
...The web does not connect people—it ramps up a mob mentality masquerading as community—a sham considering no one really does anything for anyone anymore...
...Recently, the second in command of al Qaeda released a web announcement promising an imminent attack...
...I believe if the “You” from Timedisappeared off the face of the earth, God would be pleased...
...Even he understands that he’s got a receptive audience —they would rather “send” than defend...
...How would you get to work or feed your family...
...Time has defined “YOU” as a global community united by the Internet—but we’re really just numb nuts united by a thirst for anything that might divert attention from stuff we should be thinking about...
...Not bricks, mind you, but those who hide behind screen names and hurl insults in darkness...
...Fifteen hundred children folks, but still—this just isn’t right...
...A perverse attention seeker, Tom Stephens, is a man who likes to paint eyeballs on his eyelids as well as wear floppy hats—two methods of identification used by fellow nutters when attending conferences on how to choke people with mung beans...
...BAnd when I do become famous, I will have ter of time...
...In fact, as I write this, another man has been arrested—a sinister trucker named Steve...
...Like semi-attractive hookers at risk...
...Since Time magazine recently named “You,” as person of the year—meaning those who enjoy and create content for the web—it’s really proactive web users like Tom who won this award...
...Previously editor of Maxim, Men’s Health, and Stuff, he now runs Dailygut.com and a collection of other dubious website offerings...
...Perhaps they knew that no one reads Time anymore, and if they gave an award to a zillion people who don’t know they exist—they might see a bump in their circulation...
...They are everywhere, and nowhere at once—creating cruel stereotypes rather than arguments—to attack their opposition...
...I can’t remember the last time I had a conversation with my wife withF E B R U A R Y 2 0 0 7 THE AMERICAN SPECTATOR 3 9...
...More excited than usual, because I’ve just had three colas and a chocolate bar...
...on a W underwear ednesday, part of some UT MAYBE I HATE “YOU” so much, because I am obscure...
...B ” and “rich...
...But I’ve only heard of Lindsey Lohan for two...
...Tom, or “the bishop” as we like to call him at the gym, is a regular user of MySpace, the web equivalent of a high school yearbook for self-absorbed puddle jumpers...
...It’s now six till in m P.M...
...which will happen… it is only a mat UT THIS WILL ALL CHANGE once I become famous, “You” to thank...
...What we need now is a movement to save the Greg Gutfeld is an editor, writer, and commentator living in London...
...can see me through the front window...
...I would quote them—but why...
...And failing, badly...
...I, like many other shut-ins, have allowed the web—which is nothing more than a glorified phone that transmits informaout saying, “Hold on, I’m in the middle of something...
...Still, it’s early days yet, and Stephens might not be guilty...
...I mean, how on earth could you survive if you weren’t famous...
...He went there a lot, posting hundreds of pictures of himself along with creepy platitudes about Gandhi—probably to impress Gwyneth Paltrow or her lookalike, a lump of paste...
...It keeps her busy...
...At any rate, the boneheaded award went to a bunch of boneheaded people who have never read the boneheaded magazine—which smacks of boneheaded toadyism and boneheaded gimmickry—a combination that makes me wonder if the boneheaded editors lack the wit and intelligence of a bricklayer’s nailbag...
...And my alienation doesn’t stop there...
...I love how its editors littered the award announcement with edgy takes on YouTube, MySpace, and “mash-ups,” mimicking middleaged parents desperately attempting to impress their teenage son’s friends with cool lingo...
...So I present my first annual BRICKLAYER’S NAILBAG AWARD to Time for awarding its stupid, senseless award to everyone who hides behind a laptop...
...They don’t even stare, which I find pretty insulting...
...tion—to reduce my life experiences to sitting in front of a screen staring at videos of cats vomiting and teenagers falling off skateboards...
...After all, in the Timearticle, they write about how great YouTube and MySpace are at rescuing people “drowning in obscurity...
...And considering that past winners of the award were Hitler, Ted Turner, and the “generation under 25,” a skittish loner who kills hookers seems to make perfect sense...
...It will come soon, I think: a recent “s that the top three things a child wants is to be “famous,” “good looking, thing called National Kids Day ” These kids admire , found tudy,” Granted, I work at home, and my wife is visiting her Madonna more than God...
...It was a Milky Way, which in England, is actually a Three Musketeers...
...I hate that I can spend hours on the web devouring countless blogs about media types who mean nothing to me, but can barely handle a five-minute conversation with my 82-year-old mom...
...I love Timemagazine, for it is the only thing I read in the dermatologist office when there are no dogeared copies of Tramp Duty...
...Not for me, and were polled to get to this answer—after which, sadly, certainly not for you...
...They know we’ve cultivated a group of people who would rather denigrate our country than defend it—simply to impress their friends and, for a brief moment, appear cool...
...Stephens appears weirder than most Brits, for he annoys but rarely sleeps with hookers— making him as useful as dry ice at a wet bar...
...I’ve known my mom for 42 years...
...Along with, I might add, a few million other cowards, crotch-fondlers, and stalkers...
...My mom will understand —she plays computer bridge in her bedroom...
...These tacklebags spend their days defecating all over America, its government and anyone who supports it, without ever adding a single constructive point among their anonymous rants...
...I doubt I am the only person who notices this—and I imagine our enemies in terror love it...
...Unless, you count circulating Jpegs of one’s privates—but I don’t, especially after a few months of sending them out...
Vol. 40 • February 2007 • No. 1
