Oh My God, Those Chuds Really Were Getting Paid Off By Foreign Agents This Whole Time
And a Very Special Announcement.
Hello from your friendly neighborhood debunker! What a week, huh? Do I say that every week? I think I might. Well, if shit ever slows down, maybe I’ll get to stop saying it. But that won’t happen any time soon!
This one was a real doozy, though.
Not only did we have to deal with a bunch of Trump bullshit all over again, we also discovered that a whoooooooole lot of people were getting paid by foreign agents to fuck around in our national and international discourse!
This wasn’t a total shock, of course. It explains so much about the people we’ve been able to identify so far. Dave Rubin? Lauren Chen? The rest of those choads with Tenet Media? But that’s just the tip of the iceberg, which is a thing that we used to have before we started setting our oceans on fire!
I mean, these people all have one thing in common: they’re all dead-eyed talentless hacks. Have you ever listened to one of these far-right cretins go on and on for four hours? I have, and my poor brain nearly ate itself from the boredom. They’re weird as fuck, they say some of the creepiest shit you’ve ever heard as though it’s normal, even the more attractive ones kind of look like they smell like cabbage.
Now that I know that they were getting handed like $100,000 a week by foreign agents to do that kind of shit — even though they didn’t know they were foreign agents — it all makes sense!
See, this is something really important that I learned early on when I was a wee starry-eyed reporter in Hollywood. I met all kinds of famous people and still more fame- chasers who had become notorious. It was interesting to discover how a lot of the A-listers worked. This is painting with a broad brush, to be sure, but I did meet a lot of them and they all seemed to have one thing in common that the fame-chasers didn’t have: They didn’t set out to be famous.
I mean, they didn’t hate attention, and I don’t think anyone dislikes having the sorts of money that Hollywood-style fame can buy, but being on the promotional track can be a grind, and you have to get sick of answering the same questions from an annoying press corps again and again. Most of them simply struck me as grown-up theater kids who were always a little shocked at their own success. Even the bitchy ones!
I never owned a television in those days (I know, I know, I’ve learned the error of my ways since then) and we didn’t really have smartphones helping us along back then either, so half the time I had no idea who they were anyway, so it all worked out. I just asked people I was sent to interview about things they seemed to want to talk about! There was this really great photographer I had a delightful conversation about lighting and composition with who turned out to be Jeff Bridges, and then I interviewed this really cool author of kid’s books who loved talking about reading and was actually Henry Winkler, and one night I bummed a smoke off this guy at a work party and we started talking about social anxiety, and he talked a whole lot about how being on stage meant he didn’t have to feel the pressure to be funny at people one on one, and then it turned out to be Norm MacDonald (RIP). Absolutely relatable, sir.
Then there are the fame-humpers, the toxic ones who will do or say anything as long as it makes them famous, whether it’s eating dog food like Laura Loomer or plagiarizing like Benny Johnson and … whatever the fuck Tim Pool is doing with that nasty beanie he refuses to take off, probably for fear of unleashing the Kuato that lives on his head, like we don’t all know it lives there. Reporters tend to love them because they’re very easy to get ahold of, for obvious reasons. But the fame-humpers don’t give a shit if they make reporters mad, because that makes headlines too. Yay! More attention!
Those types have no issues debasing themselves for a quick buck or a pop of attention. They’ll do just about anything for it — up to and including farting out compromised information for attention and money. And guess what? Those types, as it turns out, are absolutely lethal to democracy! Just look at the damage their lies have done, because people thought that if they were famous, they must be important!
But that’s the other dirty little secret of fame. It’s not a meritocracy and it never has been. It can be earned, sure, if that’s really what you want. But it’s a lot easier to just buy it.
So that’s how you get your Tenet Media dipshits, and whoever else is about to be revealed as someone taking dirty money, because there are just so many of them — at least 600 in the United States alone, if the Justice Department is to be believed. (It is.) And that’s not including all the creepy bot farms and bad actors online and occupying various political and corporate offices right this second.
So what do these fame-seeking dipshits do? How do they work? They create an artificial network made up of individuals and collectives that echo and repeat one another in order to give their narratives and claims a sense of legitimacy or popular support when none truly exists. They reinforce one another’s statements and drown out people who disagree with them on the nature of reality. They infiltrate or bully their way into legitimate journalism and wreak havoc from within. They’ve even taken over a lot of what passes as fact-checking nowadays.
You aren’t imagining it!
And of course they’re doing so in the dumbest possible way, because these aren’t talented people, or smart people, or kind people, or even intentionally funny people. They’re just empty vessels who are willing to say anything they’re told and debase themselves in the process, while also smelling like cabbage, probably. There’s a reason they’re called useful idiots and not useful brilliant and talented individuals!
What bums me out, though, what really gives me the sads, is how easy it’s been for so many of them to achieve some kind of legitimacy. A lot of these bad actors first got legitimized for no reason other than they were given a blue check on Twitter for some reason, years before you could buy those too, and everyone just sort of assumed they had something important to say because of it, and they rode that grifter pony just as hard as they could and they won’t ever leave until they’re forced out of our discourse. I mean, Jesus H. Christ, we didn’t need to have the entire normie media apparatus helping them out too, but here we are.
Which is, of course, why we must mock them, and laugh at them for being total weird freaks (derogatory), and continue to call them playground nicknames and make couch-fucking jokes and pool-peeing jokes about them until they cry and snot all over themselves, and then make fun of them for crying, because they can’t stand to have that sheen of legitimacy taken from them and also because it’s so funny when we do.
And we have to remove their sheen (ew), because democracy demands that we do, and because I don’t feel like roasting to death in the Dissident Journalist Work Camps that these absolute talentless hack shitfaces are gaming the media system with a little help from their deep-pocketed foreign friends in order to put me and lots of other people into, so let’s hold all these fuckers accountable and never, ever let them pull anything like this again! Democracy can be a filthy and brutal system, but it’s the best one we’ve got at the moment, and I am quite attached to it.
And now, SOME PERSONAL NEWS: This is my last column for a while, and after this I’ll have to take some time away, which makes me very sad because Wonkette is my very favorite place to write for. I had thought my new jerb didn’t mind me writing for other sites, but it turns out that was because no one had actually gotten around to reading my couch-fucking articles yet! But please stay tuned because I’ll be back with bells on just as soon as I can. I love you all, stay strong, don’t let those fuckers grind you down, and never forget that when far right shitheads and all their rotten little media monkeys cry, democracy smiles, and so do I.
And don’t forget to vote!
Thank you, Brooke. We will miss you but await your return. We'll leave the light on for you.
NYT editorial offices -
Editor in chief, “Should we cover this Russia payoff scandal at Tenet media OR what about hyping the debate as not only Trump vs Harris but a secret catfight between Tulsi Gabbard and Harris?”
Journalist, “Well the Russia thing seems very…”
Editor in chief, “Just stop talking, it’s the second one”