If Anyone Out There Knows Jon Friedman Please Pass This Along, Since He No Longer Reads Us
Dear Jon,
We read your column "Why I stopped reading Gawker," this morning with deep sadness, and not a little hurt. While we're thrilled to see that you've finally stated an opinion about anything, we're sorry that that opinion is about us, and is that we're "going for shock value and cheap laughs." (We disagree; do you know how hard it is to wring humor out of the word "twat" twelve times a day? There's nothing cheap about it.)
Jon, Jon, don't do this, don't leave us. We need you. We want you back.
We're trying to be mature about this, so we've sat down and written a list of reasons why we cannot part with you. It's after the jump. Please read it.
• You know how some guys are always all up in your face about how you need to change and what you should do about it? You're never like that! Sure, sometimes you'll say things should be different, but you'll never say what, or bother with anything as concrete as "facts" or "examples." We love that. It makes us feel like you're just talking, not criticizing.
• We admit it; we are snarky and mean-spirited. And that takes a lot out of a person. Sometimes you just want someone who'll give you bland, vacuous prose that doesn't even attempt to offer insight; you know, the kind of stuff that actually lets your brain take a rest while you're reading it. Don't take that away.
• Your ability to laugh at yourself almost equals everyone else's ability to laugh at you. We find that incredibly admirable, even a little sexy.
• Your ample frame and Roshan-like paunch make us feel like we'd want you on our side in a bar fight. Or at an all-you-can-eat buffet. You're a man's man, and we respect that.
• Jessica Coen as Tina Fey and Oxfeld as Garry Shandling: Brilliant! But you can't leave before you let us know who the comedy analogues for Balk and Mohney are. The suspense is killing us!
• We need you to tell us when we're crossing the line. Maybe calling you a "douchebag" or comparing you to a child molester went too far; if it weren't for your disappointed e-mails, we never would have known.
• Seth Mnookin won't return our calls.
• We understand how difficult it is to write a column three times a week. We put up thirty posts a day, which are almost as error-ridden and intellectually lazy as your columns. It's like we're the same person.
But above all, there's one thing that truly convinces us that we were meant to be. The March CJR Daily essay about you, "The Man Who Knew Too Little and Wrote Too Much", which called you lackluster, lazy, and wrong, ends with the following sentence: "In the meantime, we'll keep reading, and cringing." Your piece today says, "Gawker used to make me laugh. But lately, I've been cringing."
Jon, the cringing! Can you doubt that we were made for each other?
It's fate, Jon. Don't fight it. Give us another chance.
Love,
Gawker
