I am going to use this column to do something I will never be able to do again—convey my first impressions of intensive Gawker-reading. Until I was asked to consider taking on this job, I had been only a casual reader, mainly clicking on the Stalker map to track the whereabouts of Kelly Ripa (Kelly: I know you love me! Why do you insist on playing these games?). Since that day, I have read more Gawker than is typical of any but the fruitlessly employed and Kurt Eichenwald's lawyer.
Even though 22-year-old David Evans has been cleared of all charges in the Duke rape case, he's still haunted by the repercussions of the accusation that he and two other lacrosse players sexually assaulted a stripper. His lawyer Joe Cheshire shared one of the indignities he's suffered with Larry King last night.
Was there anything more emblematic of New York City's depravity and decay in the 1990s than the brief celebrity of Andrew Giuliani, spawn of hell? Horrifically combining mom Donna Hanover's WASP entitlement with dad Rudy's ethnic-white resentment, roly-poly Chucky-doll-look-alike Andy bounded across the local news in what was, in hindsight, our first warning of the terror and fascism to come. Really, if character-concerned voters are going to fault Obama for not having the will-power to quit smoking, shouldn't Giuliani be immediately disqualified for, you know, not spanking that kid more? As reported in the Times today, spoiled rotten Andrew ended up hating his dad anyway. Yep, it's the evil stepmother's fault.