{"id":3576,"date":"2017-07-03T13:40:01","date_gmt":"2017-07-03T17:40:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.bandsiusetalike.com\/biul\/?p=3576"},"modified":"2017-07-05T13:49:31","modified_gmt":"2017-07-05T17:49:31","slug":"the-gadfly-trap","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.bandsiusetalike.com\/biul\/the-gadfly-trap\/","title":{"rendered":"The Gadfly Trap"},"content":{"rendered":"

A gadfly<\/strong> is a person who interferes the status quo of a society or community by posing novel, potently upsetting questions, usually directed at authorities. The term is originally associated with the ancient Greek philosopher Socrates, in his defense when on trial for his life.\u00a0[Wikipedia]<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Imagine if you visited this site, only to discover that I had renounced my acerbic commentary on the world of music, and devoted my time to interviewing popular musicians of the day, in glowing “puff pieces”. How would you feel?<\/p>\n

Betrayed?<\/p>\n

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From BIUL<\/em> #2.<\/p><\/div>\n

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Of course you would. Because it\u00a0is a betrayal.<\/em><\/p>\n

Since the late 1990s, I’ve established the persona of a\u00a0gadfly.\u00a0<\/em>I’m\u00a0expected<\/em> to attack pop cultural shibboleths. That’s what the audience expects of me. If an entertainer becomes rich and famous without practicing a demonstrable skill, I smell blood. Every time this happens, I dig until I find the Achilles heel, and strike. That is my role. There is\u00a0no going back.<\/strong><\/p>\n

A gadfly “says what we’re all thinking”, and\u00a0takes the resultant heat for it.\u00a0<\/em>A true gadfly never apologizes or retracts their opinions. If they do, their followers will\u00a0eat them alive.\u00a0<\/em>Because they’re a\u00a0fake.\u00a0<\/strong>A\u00a0charlatan.\u00a0<\/strong>An obsequious, wannabe Svengali. A pest to be exterminated and just as quickly forgotten.<\/p>\n

Take Kathy Griffin, for example. (Please.<\/em>) Had she not played victim after her severed-Trump-head stunt, her career would have survived, unscathed. Instead, she drowned the integrity of every word she’s ever spoken, with her tears. She proved to the world that she couldn’t really take the heat, and exited the kitchen. She’s so done, you probably forgot all about her until I brought her up once again.<\/p>\n

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There used to be this radio personality called Howard Stern. He was famous for his show’s unabashedly porn-o-holic atmosphere, and for his surgical deconstruction of pop-culture hypocrisy. His fan base was largely working-class dudes who loved to see the high-and-mighty taken down a few pegs. Stern was the underdog, the voice of the lowbrow. He was a bastion against phony corporate rock radio, as evidenced by his trumped-up battles with the aggro-crag demiurge Don Imus. He played himself in a laughably fictionalized movie of his life, and people ate it up.<\/p>\n

Then he became a billionaire, thanks to a satellite-radio deal intended to transform him into a mogul. Suddenly he’s rubbing elbows with the Hollywood elitists he used to vilify, in the Hamptons. His boyhood as a pimply, envious creep caught up with him, and he renounced his sardonic persona to become a sort of vague media icon. His trophy wife and offspring became part of his act, unearned, to paint him as a loving father instead of a perverted ripoff of Joey Ramone. He rebuffed Artie Lange, who single-handedly had made his show “appointment listening”.<\/p>\n

He handed the reins of his empire to Marci Turk, a woman who’d read a self-help book, and soon Stern was a would-be David Frost, conducting vanilla interviews. His army of back-patters assured him that this was his true strength, and not the exciting, unpredictable airtime battles that made him a star. In one fell swoop, he betrayed his entire audience and every single person that helped create him.<\/p>\n

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I’m assuming she never had to ride Stern’s dildo machine.<\/p><\/div>\n

That’s why you never see his eyes. He’s a fraud, and he’s always known it.<\/p>\n

That’s why no one gives a sideways shit about Stern anymore.<\/p>\n

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There was a drive-time radio duo based in New York that threatened Howard Stern so greatly, he placed a legal gag order on them that kept them from speaking his name; Opie & Anthony. This is the truth. Stern was so fearful of Gregg “Opie” Hughes and Anthony “Anthony” Cumia, he ran to his superiors and forced censorship on them. This and his gleeful selling-out are all the proof you need that Stern was and is a phony.<\/p>\n

“I believe in censorship when it benefits me.” –Howard Stern<\/a><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

This is a man who made bank claiming he was “crucified by the FCC”. A hypocrite in a woman’s wig. And his PR team is so proficient, I\u00a0still<\/em> have to point all of this out.<\/p>\n

Meanwhile, I can claim that Anthony Cumia is the funniest man in the history of radio, and I don’t have to add any caveats. Cumia has stuck to his (metaphorical) guns, and continued to be a man that can cross sabres with the funniest comedians and toughest gadflies in the country. The evidence is plentiful and readily available. As is the evidence of his past transgressions, which he has been wholly transparent about. He’s part of the #1 podcast* on iTunes.\u00a0He won.<\/strong><\/p>\n

*It’s actually “podacast”, or somethin’. Tss.<\/p>\n