WHO'S THE STALKER?

From the Vaults!

Emily Gould's performance on "Larry King Dead" was notorious. She was called a little girl caught in the headlights, an idiot with her overly-mobile mouth and eyes.

Seems clear she was unprepared for the question, she was nervous, and she was 24, for Christ's sake (although her little bouncy hairdo didn't help-- she looked even younger). It didn't help she was piled on by the panel, although she was able to get in a few clear and coherent words.

Bloggers and responders ripped her a new a-hole, but luckily that human colostomy bag, Jimmy Kimmel, was there to stop the overflow. Kimmel wanted her there because he was pissed Gawker noted an occasion when he was drunk. His defense? "I was with youngsters and elderly adults!" Oh, of course-- I never get drunk around the elderly, either. And never babies, not cute little babies!

It's also hilarious to note his get-up-- the Larry King signature white collar and suspenders. Is the guest host obligated to dress as the host? He should have worn a death mask.

It seems strange the other hosts are talking about celebrity murders by crazed fans as though they're so common. Who was the last-- Selena? And that was before the internet.

What's the appropriate response? Perhaps it's not the system that facilitates information, but the society that doesn't care for its mentally ill, or allows guns to be purchased so readily. Or the ambulance chaser mentally that goes after not the insane (and penniless) perpetrator, but the rich institution that somehow enabled him.

Strange, too, the topic is about celebrities feeling endangered by unhinged fans-- and yet Kimmel's personal gripe is that his sobriety was questioned. Shit bag.

SELF-INDULGENT SELF-INDULGENCE

Just finished reading the Emily Gould piece (here). In case you're not part of the incestuous New York publishing industry, or at least read about it (like me) on Gawker, Emily was an editor and blogger at Gawker who's increasingly personal revelations in her New York-centric posts made her the subject of great love and vitriolic responses amongst Gawker's snarky readership. Gawker is like a restaurant where the waiters are instructed to be snooty to the customers-- on Gawker, no one is ever good enough to get good treatment.

Emily had an affair with her fellow editor, Josh Stein, and posted about it in a semi-anonymous, private blog, that quickly became known and public amongst her friends, readership, and senior editors. She and Josh broke up (by IM! how modern!), and the two quickly flamed out, quit Gawker within a year, and then lashed out at each other in tit-for-tat blogs and articles.

Of course, Emily's account from the New York Times a few weeks ago ripped open a new a-hole of accusations and recriminations and name-calling and a round of "she thinks she's so fucking great!"

The story is about her obsessive self-indulgence and need to reveal, so it's hilarious that it's most constantly critiqued as, hold on, self-indulgent and too revealing. Good call! New York Magazine even did a word count and calculated the amount she made for the number of times she used "I" -- $860!

Then, there's Josh's account. To be fair, I'm sure the Times has better editors than the Post. Whereas she tells a story, he lists a series of events-- almost a defense statement.

Photograph by Elinor Carucci for the Times