The Gutfeld Monologues

by Greg Gutfeld

  And if any still call this discriminatory, tell them that the rule applies to everyone who disrespects the anthem for any reason. The NFL is killing a trend before we see others kneeling about guns, abortion, climate change—or, God forbid—any cause the media finds not left-wing enough for their virtue-signaling tastes.

  CHAPTER THREE

  HOLLYWOOD

  It’s too easy: going after movie and pop stars over their political pronouncements. It’s like going after a clam for being clammy. But you know what?

  They deserve it.

  If you have an opportunity to (figuratively) smack one for their stupid, pretentious opinions, don’t pass it by. Because they’d never let an opportunity pass to do the same to you. They hate you.

  They also assume that their wealth and popularity are substitutes for thoughtfulness, grace, and wisdom, when in reality it is usually a mix of cheekbones and nepotism that got them where they are. They assume that they know more than you because perhaps a half-million girls between the ages of nine and fourteen downloaded a song in a fit of irrational hysteria that wore off once they discovered real life.

  And now, after the Weinstein scandal, we can rest comfortably knowing we will never have to take a single suggestion on how to live our lives from a movie star again—about what to drive, how to eat, or how to think. Every time a star engages in a new bout of moral preening, simply remind yourself that they never stood up to Harvey, never condemned Roman Polanski, and always looked the other way when the casting couch extended into full-blown assault. Screw ’em.

  So, when I can’t find anything new to write about, I always know a celebrity will be there for me to provide new easy fodder. They’re as reliable as a champagne hangover. And it’s this very fodder, once publicly outlined and mocked, that helped reduce sentimental leftist beliefs to uproarious parody.

  That made it easier for Trump, in my opinion, to come out and say what we’ve been saying all along: that we aren’t crazy for loving this country, for appreciating law enforcement, for believing that national security matters. These were the very topics that the entertainment industry felt compelled to mock on a daily basis. The same people who play cops and soldiers on-screen can’t wait to denigrate them in real life. This is known in psychology circles as “an inferiority complex” or by its more colloquial term, “being a dick.”

  So Trump was a brash antidote to their pretension, a walking middle finger to the haciendas of the Hollywood Hills. And yeah, he loved movie stars and celebrities—but it seems, at least to me, that he got over that when he got older. It’s like he realized he didn’t need them. And he was right.

  And then you heard so many hacks claiming they were gonna move to Canada over Trump. But does anyone anywhere know someone who’s actually moved to Canada? And was not then drafted by the Maple Leafs?

  Maybe celebrities should try something even more foreign—say, move to an Alabama church town (I think all of them are church towns). If they did, I’d bet my life they’d be treated respectfully as a fellow American by all those Trump-loving Nazis.

  Of course, celebrity causes don’t help. Which is why so many of us took great pleasure in the idiot parade that was 2016. Could anything be more delicious than the resumption of the Keystone pipeline, after Leo DiCaprio, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, and Mark Ruffalo made such a stink over it? For me, it’s like a deep-fried Oreo smothered in barbecue sauce. (And because of increased fracking, which celebs hate, we’re now less dependent on the Middle East for oil.)

  Anyway, Hollywood is in a pickle. They’re now exposed for the behavior that we always knew was there. If they did a film on Roman Polanski’s crimes, they would change a thirteen-year-old girl to thirteen-year-old scotch! But, after Hurricane Harvey (W.), it’s too late. America is alive, and Hollywood is dying.

  But I can hear a criticism coming:

  Greg, aren’t you a hypocrite for bashing celebs for their political musings, yet you embraced Kanye’s positive tweets about Trump?

  The answer: HELL NO. Kanye’s different. What he did was a risk. He didn’t back climate change, gun control, or any other liberal pet cause. He chose Trump. Which could cost him capital, fans, and album sales. And he took that risk knowing the consequences. He did so as an example to others that it’s possible. Who does that remind you of? Kanye 2024!

  December 7, 2011

  The Baldwin family is the most interesting dynamic you can find in a family: On one end, you have Stephen, who is sweet, playful, and decent . . . and then there’s Alec, who’s the opposite. And then there’s Billy, who’s as dumb as a stump.

  So, what kind of man in his fifties throws a tantrum over a toy? Alec Baldwin, of course. He got kicked off a plane when told he couldn’t play an electronic game.

  So, he slammed the restroom door so loud it spooked the pilot. But look, it’s just too easy to rip Baldwin over this.

  Except that Alec thinks it’s funny.

  But everyone in the plane had to wait for him to move his big fat rump.

  I believe Alec was using a plane bathroom, which is actually grounds for an emergency landing.

  But when you think about it? Isn’t Baldwin the real hero here?

  See, there are two sets of rules in America—one for us and then one for the truly vulnerable: celebrities. And someone has to stand up for the self-absorbed stars who are so often bullied by the little people.

  Sure, Baldwin’s tantrum delayed everyone’s departure, but in the movie that is Baldwin’s life, those folks are just bit players. Who cares about them?

  And I condemn those who say the behavior reeks of hypocrisy. Sure, he is pro-union, but slurs the working-class flight attendant. And yes, he’s a greenie, but flies cross-country constantly.

  But in celebrity life, hypocrisy doesn’t exist, because being a phony bleeding heart allows you to be a real-life jerk, which is why I’m starting a new charity called “Buy Alec a Drone” or BAAD. Send me your donations, and together we’ll buy an unmanned plane operated from a salt flat in Utah to take Alec wherever he wants.

  That way, no crew must deal with this insufferable jerk, and he can play his games alone in the sky like a giant man-baby in an oversized diaper.

  I ran into Alec about a year ago in my neighborhood. We chatted and he pretended he didn’t know who I was. Which is funny, since he blocked me on Twitter, which I take as a badge of honor. I’ve also been blocked by Sarah Silverman and Lena Dunham, who both exercised this cowardly move after initiating a spat with me! I ask you: Is there anything lower than throwing a rock, then running and hiding? But to be blocked by Alec, Sarah, and Lena? I can’t think of a better achievement. I might put that fact on my tombstone. “Here lies Greg Gutfeld. Blocked by three miserable celebrity cranks since 2011.” Or I might just get cremated. (I think I’d look pretty sexy in an urn.)

  February 24, 2012

  As the Oscars approach like some diseased clown, a new study claims the Academy voters are way less diverse than the moviegoing public. Oscar voters are 94 percent white and 77 percent male. So, an industry that sees America as racist is as diverse as a David Duke rally.

  I feel like Hollywood was listening when I said this. By 2018, the Oscars became a full-blown college brochure—depicting as much diversity per square inch as possible.

  Worse, the median age is sixty-two, which means their hair is white, so their follicles are as bigoted as their feelings. If I were a cow, they’d make me sick in every one of my four stomachs. I actually have two stomachs, one just for Fiddle Faddle.

  What in God’s name was I smoking when I wrote that paragraph? Please tell me—because I want more of it. Also, please tell me: What is Fiddle Faddle?

  But relax, minorities aren’t the only outsiders. Here are some folks you never see in the movies:

  • An American soldier who is not a psycho.

  • A Christian not portrayed as a wild-eyed nut.

  • A corporate head who isn’t corrupt.

  • An Italian who is
not a mobster.

  • A community activist who is really just a protester living off the government.

  • A journalist who is a lefty propagandist, and an academic who’s the same.

  All of these represent reality far more than movies—because they’re not defined by fake edginess and how cleverly you can diss America.

  This matters. Hollywood is how America talks to the world. Why put this bunch of coddled geezers in charge of that? Thanks to their relentless drone since the sixties about the state of our nation, it’s no wonder the world hates us.

  If America really reflected what’s in our movies, wouldn’t you?

  These films don’t reflect us at all. They reflect an America existing in the Viagra-addled minds of Starbucks socialists who hate our country, its values, and themselves.

  Which is why my favorite movie of the year is the one I made in Mexico with an ostrich. It’s still up on YouTube despite the complaints.

  It used to bug me that it took a while for part of The Five viewing audience to understand me. When I read that last paragraph, I totally understand why it took a while. I purposely made it difficult, bringing up “art” films I might have made in another country. You might wonder, why would I do that? Because it was a sort of code I used for fans. If that line made you smile, then I knew and you know that you were “one of us,” the weird legion of Red Eye fans who understood that introducing deviancy now and then was important to make sure you’re listening—and to make sure you knew I cared enough to take stupid risks and not say the same old crap.

  Where was I? Oh yeah—the Oscars ceremony is one national ritual America needs to get over. Once a year the American tribe turns its eyes to Hollywood, our own Mount Olympus, to watch the golden ones tell us the meaning of our lives. There is only one problem: They’re almost all a mess. Look, let’s be honest: Any dope can act. Even great actors will tell you that. I mean, O.J. Simpson had a screen career. Why so many of these moral twerps have been anointed, or rather have anointed themselves the moral compass of the nation, I just can’t fathom. Hitchcock had it right: They’re talking props. And they talk too damn much. I can’t wait until CGI is good enough to make movies without any real actors. Let’s see how “woke” Mark Ruffalo is when he’s scrubbing hubcaps for a living.

  Then again, I love the Oscars, because they remind me to hate the Oscars. And it’s important to be reminded of the things you hate. Hate provides helpful focus, and reminds you that unless you hate things that deserve hating, they get away with stuff that ends up hurting you. So I hope the Oscars never go away, for there’s nothing that bothers me more, and obviously nothing I like to talk about more. Besides Fiddle Faddle.

  March 12, 2012

  So, I didn’t see the movie Game Change. I’ve been on vacation and the nude rodeo camp didn’t have cable. It’s about us and how dumb the film and TV industry thinks we really are.

  We’re dumb, they think, because we don’t bend to their lazy assumptions about life—that America is evil, the left is always compassionate, and Republicans eat babies.

  By the way, Colin Quinn told me once at the gym to stop saying “Republicans eat babies” because it’s a “hack joke.” I told him that he probably eats Republican babies, but yeah, he’s usually right about these things. He coached me for my appearance on The Daily Show and made me way more nervous than if he hadn’t coached me. I think he did it on purpose. He also told me The Greg Gutfeld Show needed a live audience, which I initially ignored. Turned out he was right. Once we added an audience, about six months after we premiered, the whole vibe changed. We knew what was funny, and what wasn’t. The jokes we made didn’t die in weird silence anymore. And bam—our ratings jumped by 100 percent, thanks to the energy provided by 160 clapping hands. So I guess I owe Colin a beer, but he doesn’t drink.

  But what do you expect? Asking Hollywood to rip the left is like asking a Van Halen tribute band to make fun of Van Halen.

  You can’t skewer those you idolize.

  See, Hollywood is nothing more than a tribute band for the left, banging out hit after hit on the right, when they’re not sleeping with dopey starlets in PETA shirts.

  But whose fault is that?

  Look, if there is a restaurant that serves bad food, it’s bad. You avoid it. But if every restaurant serves bad food, then you got to make your own.

  So, it’s time for conservatives to stop complaining and start doing. We need a new generation of right-thinking chefs with a mission to make the food you want to eat. Our kids need to write, they need to go to film school. They need to invade pop culture, or the joke will always be on us.

  Until then, movies will be oh so predictable and so will our complaints. It may take decades to complete this mission, but it’s the only way to make a game change for real.

  That monologue is directly descended from Andrew Breitbart’s famous claim that politics is downstream from culture, a point proved correct by the first pop culture president in history to be elected, Donald Trump. Trump won not because he was a movie or TV star, but because he knew their terrain and refused to be boxed in by them. I have a feeling he’s not going to be the last in the line of nonpolitical pop cultural personalities running for office. I predict by 2100 every offshoot of the Kardashian family will have been president [of California]. I’m only slightly joking: I maintain that if Oprah decides to run and has no devastating skeletons in her closet [is Steadman actually a space alien she’s kept captive?], then she could out-trump Trump. (Note: I wrote this months before the Kanye West seismic event. You know he’ll be in Trump’s 2020 cabinet.)

  As for the point that we need more right-thinking perspectives in the entertainment industry—be okay with the fact that it may never happen. For two reasons:

  • Right-wingers and libertarian types often don’t think politically in business, so even if they were in movies, they wouldn’t let it influence their decisions in films. It’s not like a right-wing Tom Hanks would suddenly do a “Corporations are Awesome!” movie. But, on the other hand, there might be fewer screeds directed at flyover country.

  • Nonliberals might just be hardwired to do other stuff than acting, singing, and dancing. Wishing there were more conservatives in film might be like wishing there were more leftists in mixed martial arts. It’s just not part of the makeup of either crowd. True, there are exceptions—which is why they stand out, or do their best not to.

  April 9, 2012

  So Matt Damon is making an antifracking movie. Yay! John Krasinski will star in it, no doubt, also an expert on this cruel practice that extracts natural gas from the ground.

  I hope he makes goofy faces like he does in The Office.

  God, did that get old—instead of getting an audience to laugh at a joke, they just threw to Krasinski’s “look how dumb they are and how smart I am” face. I’m sure he’s a nice guy in real life, but by season three I wanted to hit him with a blunt object—like maybe Matt Damon.

  But like every film these days, it’s just a remake, harkening back to The China Syndrome—that shrill antinuke script from the seventies. If you think culture doesn’t change politics, remember nuclear power is still recovering from that celebrity-driven smear, which means you can blame Hollywood for our dependence on oil right now.

  Yes, the nuclear technology America pioneered could have likely freed us from the tyranny of fossil fuels, if not for actress/aerobic star/war criminal Jane Fonda. And a concert given by someone named Jackson Browne, who tried to save us from energy independence when not terrifying Daryl Hannah.

  So, why hate fracking? Isn’t it just a horizontal windmill, shattering rocks instead of birds?

  Come on—it’s true! Fracking is really a horizontal windmill . . . that works!! And doesn’t kill innocent bald eagles. Seriously—why are greenies up in arms over drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge and upsetting some caribou, but don’t give a flying toss over the zillions of birds chopped to bits by windmills? I’ll tell you why: becau
se they’re silly people. That’s why I’m here: to point that out, in case you miss it.

  Well, the greenies hate it because it works. Yes, a funny thing happened on the way to Solyndra. Fracking cut a path toward energy independence, making similar green efforts look kind of silly. And Matt knows we can’t have that; then America wouldn’t be the bad guy anymore. This one fact alone would eliminate the only major villain in today’s movies.

  True, with drilling, there can be environmental side effects. But there are environmental side effects to everything, including filmmaking.

  Research has shown that the film industry pollutes like mad, thanks to the idling trucks, special effects, and set construction. But that’s Hollywood. So never mind. Anyway, I think someone must have pumped sand and water through Damon’s head, because he certainly exudes enough natural gas to power a small city.

  I live in New York, where there’s a movie shot on every street almost every day. The trucks idle there for hours; the caterers create garbage bag after garbage bag of trash. And that’s just to feed Seth Rogen. If it weren’t for the hard work of millions of folks in the oil industry, these dopes would be depending on the oral tradition to tell their vacuous stories. Which I wouldn’t mind—the oral tradition is the only way I get my legends—anally is just too painful.

  Anyway, here’s a pop quiz for all the present-day anti-pipeliners:

  • How does the U.S. currently transport oil?