The Yelp of Gutbloom’s Partner
Niantic Party Convention: Day 1
[Here is the text of the speech delivered by Medium Mayoral candidate Gutbloom on the first day of the Niantic party’s convention at the Mill. Most of the crowd had assembled because posters had been distributed throughout the town promising a Zucchini festival. The ruse to attract attendees appeared to have worked, as there were close to 100 people in attendance at the outset of the event. Gutbloom appeared on the stage wearing a dog mask. His remarks are as follows — The Editors]
Friends, Mediumans, Bloggermen, and Bloggerwomen, I come to praise Gutbloom, not to bury him. The evil that men do lives on with them, the good is often ignored and mistaken for naiveté. So let it be with Gutbloom.
[At this point, an aide came forwards and spoke in Gutbloom’s ear. He waved the aide aways dismissively. — The Editors]
There are some who would like to question the authorship of my remarks today. Let me assure you, these are my words. He who filches from me my good name robs me of something that does not enrich him but leaves me poorer, nonetheless. These words are my words. On that I am as fixed as the Northern Star.
By tradition the “partner” of the candidate speaks on the first night of the convention. I have no partner, other than my dog, Otto, so I speak to you tonight under the guise of Otto so that you may see me through the eyes of another. In doing so you will become acquainted with the softer, sloppier, and hair-covered facets of my personality. Love me, love my dog.
[The crowd began to chant the phrase “Where is the zucchini?” over and over again. Gutbloom banged the gavel, called “order,” then ran through the following paragraph very, very quickly.— The Editors]
There is a motion to take a voice vote on the distribution of zucchini. Do I have a second? Seconded by the tall girl with big ears. Debate? Are you ready to vote the question? On a voice vote allinfavorsayaye,allopposed? The “Nays” have it. THE MOTION FAILS.
Now, where was I? Ah, yes, the softer side of Gutbloom. He is hard, but fair. His word is his bond, and he loves Medium according to his bond, no more, no less.
Medium is a dangerous place right now. We are beset by trolls, pro publications, native advertisers, ringers, sponsorships, spammers, and refugees from Gawker, Reddit, and Huffpo.
Why, I have right here a poor old copyeditor from the halcyon days of Reader’s Digest who was recently brutally mocked for not knowing that Charmander evolves first to Charmeleon before evolving to Charizard!
[Gutbloom, still in his dog mask, went to stage right and led a small, white-haired woman in thick glasses out onto the stage. She was wearing a Irish-knit cardigan sweater covered in cat hair. She blinked at the crowd.]
When they discovered her n00b status the… and let’s call them what they are… INTERNET EXTREMISTS [there was some gentle applause] first rickrolled her, then made her listen to Chocolate Rain, before ultimately unleashing an onslaught of goatses. When we looked into the incident, we discovered that the INTERNET EXTREMISTS were not motivated by a vine video mocking Magic the Gathering players, as the official Medium account would lead you to believe, but were IN FACT Gawker refugees that WE ALLOWED INTO OUR CORNER OF THE BLOGOSPHERE when Peter Thiel carpet bombed their Kinja outposts. This poor woman… [Gutbloom then asked the woman her name in an audible whisper]… Shoshanna Sheck, has been victimized because whoever is running Medium CAN’T KEEP HER SAFE! That’s why Gutbloom will build a firewall all around Medium so that riffraff, like the ANIMALS who abused THIS POOR COPYEDITOR, can’t get in and stop us from making Medium great again!
[One of Gutbloom’s opperatives started chanting ‘Install the Firewall, Install the Firewall” but the crowd began shouting “We want the Zucchini Queen!” instead.]
I am now going to let her tell you how great I am in her own words. Would you like to address the crowd, Shoshanna?
[The old woman stepped forward and spoke in a surprisingly vigorous voice. “I hate the Internet,” she said. “I think people should go back to reading magazines and watching Lawrence Welk.” The crowd began to chant “Lawrence Welk’]
And so, my friends, I finish my remarks by reminding you that Gutbloom isn’t the narcissistic, bloviated, con-man that you know him to be. Well, he’s that, but he is also the hard but fair master who never overfeeds me. Sure, sometimes he gets mad when he locks me in the house for 15 hours and I pee behind the water heater in the basement, but that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, made weak by time and fate, but strong in will to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. Like boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.
Thank you. May the Flying Spaghetti Monster bless you, May the Flying Spaghetti Monster bless Medium, and may the Flying Spaghetti Monster bless our party.
zimzim urallala zimzim urallala zimzim zanzibar zimzalla zam
[The candidate, still wearing the dog mask, then took Shoshanna by the arm and exited the stage while Frank Zappa’s “Who Are the Brain Police” played over the PA system. The crowd had mostly left before them.]
