Dear Bill O’Reilly,
Don’t worry Bill, I’ll be brief and use small words because even though you’re not aware of your limitations, the rest of us know them all too well.
I want to start off and tell you that I’m not going to call upon you to admit your many and varied lies. Neither am I going to demand that Fox News fire you. No doubt Fox News knew what they were getting when Ailes and Murdoch signed on the dotted line of your contract. Spewing sexist, racist, xenophobic, reactionary bullshit to people who’d rather not know any better has made you, and them, rich beyond avarice’s dreams, and I understand the futility of asking that you or your employers grow a conscience now.
But I do have one request. No. Not a request. An order. Cut out your bullshit threats, Bill. From yesterday’s New York Times:
Mr. O’Reilly’s efforts to refute the claims by Mother Jones and some former CBS News colleagues occurred both on the air and off on Monday. During a phone conversation, he told a reporter for The New York Times that there would be repercussions if he felt any of the reporter’s coverage was inappropriate. “I am coming after you with everything I have,” Mr. O’Reilly said. “You can take it as a threat.”
You’ve pulled this bullying crap before, Bill. Remember when you promised to sic Fox News Security on a caller who dared to mention Keith Olbermann? Or when you’ve tried to get “the folks” to boycott newspapers because they pointed out your absurd libels of immigrants? (Actually, I’m sure you don’t. Bullies are brilliant at forgetting their own behavior when it suits them. It keeps the guilt at bay.) But here’s the thing: none of your threats came to anything. The caller you browbeat is fine. The newspapers you harassed didn’t lose any subscribers. When you say, “I am coming after you with everything I have”, what exactly is it that you think you have? Do you think you’re tough? You’re a 65-year-old rich dude who doesn’t look like he spends his off hours chasing chickens and punching sides of beef. So, what? Do you have a platoon of hired goons? Winged monkeys? Demonic rottweilers? Transforming robots? Can you unleash a Birdemic, Bill? At long last, what is it that you have?
That’s the thing, Bill. We know what you have: a big mouth and two empty hands. So find another way to deal with your self-inflicted problems, Bill. Whine, complain, suck your thumb, hold your breath until you turn blue, say you’ll run away and join the circus (but since you work at Newscorp, how would you know the difference), but quit the threats. They’re pathetic.