Gawker - Were we silenced or silenCED?

"I don't think the vaccines have anything to do with eradicating the Jews."

There are many criticisms to lob at Anthony Fauci, the director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases and, as a result of the COVID pandemic, one of the most powerful and adored physicians in America. He has inspired a slew of merchandise, an Emmy-nominated impersonation from Brad Pitt, and the naming of dogs across America. While his calm demeanor has been considered a balm by some, not everyone likes Dr. Fauci — in part because the 2020 pandemic response he helped helm has widely been considered a disaster.

One person who especially doesn’t is Robert F. Kennedy Jr., whose new book The Real Anthony Fauci: Bill Gates, Big Pharma, and the Global War on Democracy and Public Health, has hovered on Amazon’s bestseller list for the past three weeks. Kennedy, the son of Robert F. Kennedy and a former environmental lawyer-turned-vocal anti-vaxxer, tasks himself with revealing the true scope of Fauci’s intentions and control, or at least how they diverge from the doctor’s rosy reputation. Kennedy argues that Fauci serves as a figurehead for an elite cadre of wealthy insiders, dark money, and corporate interests skewing the public presentation of pharmaceutical science. (The irony of this coming from a Kennedy seems to be lost on him.)

He is most concerned with the presentation of science related to vaccines, which he thinks may cause autism (they don’t). Kennedy has spent a decade lobbying and awareness-raising around that issue. For the last five of those years, he has served as the founder and chairman of Children’s Health Defense, a nonprofit that describes itself as an advocate for “chronic childhood disease,” but which basically everyone else calls an anti-vaccine group — arguably the most prominent of its kind.

In any case, despite the author’s last name, non-profit, and relative success on Amazon, he hasn’t gotten much press coverage, which is probably why his publicist offered an interview to this re-booted celebrity gossip blog that mostly makes fun of Chrissy Teigen (in fairness, she thought we were Bustle). What follows is an edited transcript of my interview with him.

That includes you

In my opinion, one of life’s cardinal rules is to keep your expectations so low that you’ll never be disappointed. This tenet has served me well over the years, but there are inevitably exceptions that make it past the barrier of suppressed emotion. Whether they’re a favorite artist whose latest release flopped, a close personal friend revealed to be an asshole, or a politician you once naively believed in (lol), the world is filled with people who fail to live up to whatever image — however distorted — you had built up in your head.

So here are some people who disappointed “us” this year — with “us” referring alternately to me, my coworkers, the public at large, or some guy somewhere probably — and some suggestions for gifts that they could probably use

"How to pronounce Michael Jackson"

As we reflect on the past year, it’s normal to ask questions. “Did I achieve my professional and personal goals?” “What do I hope to change in the coming year? “Why were so many people googling ‘How to be a flight attendant?’”

The last question I cannot answer for you, because I too am confused. All I can tell you is that it happened, and in fact it was the seventh most popular “How to be” Google search in the United States for the year.

The company has released their annual “Year in Search,” and while there are some expected topics floating to the top (Alec Baldwin, “How to be eligible for stimulus check”), there are a few search terms that make me wonder if we, as a nation, are doing alright. Here they are, ranked for your pleasure.

If filmmakers insist on making us sit for over two hours we need a pee break

Ask anyone what is ruining modern cinema and you’ll likely get a million different (and hotly debated) answers, ranging from “Too much CGI” to “I hate Ryan Reynolds” or simply, “Marvel.” But the one everyone can agree on? Most movies are too long.

Obviously, the ideal runtime for a movie is 90 minutes, but most major motion pictures are at least two hours long. House of Gucci, Dune, Eternals, Don’t Look Up, West Side Story — all movies clocking in at over 120 minutes. In that period of time, I will have consumed a large soda and likely need to pee at least twice.

Recently I watched Guillermo Del Toro’s Nightmare Alley (150 minutes). Including the waiting period for the film to start, I spent just shy of three hours in the packed cinema, and I would estimate I spent at least two of those hours worrying about having to pee

The key to happiness is embracing something at the absolute nadir of its cultural relevance

I started watching Game of Thrones this summer because I thought it'd be a funny joke. Prior to this, I had maybe seen one episode, which frankly felt like it took more effort than being a regular viewer. After all, Game of Thrones was a juggernaut. You could make the argument that for a long while, websites constructed their entire editorial calendar around new Jon Snow takes, in the same way turkey farmers run in the red until Thanksgiving. The idea of tapping in mid-stream seemed exhausting, so I remained on the sidelines as the Red Wedding, the Night King, and Cersei's desolation bloomed into view and faded into the distance without ever knowing what anyone was talking about. Instead, I burned off my Sunday evenings with other things. Not better things, mind you, but other things.

Two years have passed since the series finale of Game of Thrones — an event that seemed to upset a lot of people — and any residue of the mania has been thoroughly washed away. The show's terminal fall from grace is honestly kind of disorienting. Star Wars fans held on to their mythos for 20 years between trilogies, long-suffering Dune heads have finally earned their deliverance, but currently, most people seem eager to leave everyone in Westeros dead and buried. In fact, 2021 is the first time in human history it became possible to enjoy Game of Thrones completely discourse-free. We are far removed from the white-hot crucible of intrigue, that breezy Obama-era period where a bonanza of clicks could be harvested from headlines titled "15 Epic Sansa Clapbacks." Game of Thrones has also not matured into that sainted, cultish-yet-popular Sopranos tier, living on through wistful critical reappraisals, a tang of nostalgia, and avant-garde meme accounts. Instead I am tumbling alone through the shapeless void, which is to say that I am on Season Two, Episode Two, of Game of Thrones. It’s wonderful. I feel like I've finally cracked the code. From now on, I am only engaging in television at the absolute nadir of its relevance.