The Puffington Host and Other Miscreants

I can remember back before Howard Stern was famous. He was a local radio jock who I listened to on my morning drive to work when I lived in Washington, DC, and he was pretty damn funny. Then, on the afternoon of January 13, 1982, the horrendous crash of Air Florida Flight 90 into the 14th Street Bridge occurred and made him an overnight sensation because he did something so mean-spirited on his show, it was almost beyond belief. The morning after the crash he called the airline and asked the price of a ticket from National Airport (now called Ronald Reagan National) to the 14th Street Bridge, about one mile away. This was perversely funny, ironic and wry, opening a window into Stern's unique mind, except for the fact that at the time of the phone call people were still floating atop and dying underneath the icy waters. The rescue had gone on all night, keeping much of the citizenry either glued to their TV sets or huddled out on the banks of the Potomac watching the horror unfold in near-blizzard conditions. Stern was summarily fired, and thus began his quick rise to national fame and eventual untold millions, just for being so ballsy as to say what some cynics might have been thinking privately but had the good sense not to utter aloud.

So, I could do the same thing with this blog. My own fame--not 15 minutes but more like two-- came from a post wherein I allegedly called for the murder of Keith Olbermann, the former political pundit and rat-fink who has since been scolded away into the forest. While I did not intend that interpretation, almost immediately nearly 1,000 Twittering fools found my blog, upping its readership from the usual 150 or so. I learned that being outrageous earns you fame and death threats, especially when the outrage is nasty. So I could get famous if I said things like I hate President Obama because he is black, which of course I don't and he barely is anyway, or that I love Mitt Romney because he is a Mormon and it's about time we had a deeply religious man in the White House, which is also a crock. I could write almost anything negative about Gabby Giffords--like despite the fact that she never speaks, perhaps because she still cannot, people want her to run for office anyway-- and get noticed, or at least grab the attention of Arianna Huffington's merry band of bottom-feeding  journalists who are so desperate for a paycheck, they'll turn any shred of detritus into "news." (See photo) But I don't say those things because I don't mean those things, except of course the latter, and my blog is ignored by the hungry masses looking for someone to hate more than themselves.

The road to fame is rutted and muddy and not for the faint of heart. I'll never get there, but I sincerely appreciate the loyal readers of this forum. Thank you all.