The world’s least-funny funnywoman, Kathy Griffin, is hoping to emerge from her career-destroying blunder as a strong, left-wing heroine by reversing her apology for posing with a bloodied, severed rubber head of Donald Trump.
In an interview with the BBC World News show HardTalk, Griffin rescinded the several-months-old apology which, though it couldn’t make her seem less unfunny, had helped her appear less insane. Sporting a new Eurythmics-style hairdo, she said:
“I’ve done many shocking things. When I won my first Emmy, I said, ‘Suck it, Jesus, because this award is my God now!’ And you know, the conservatives took ads out in the papers. That’s what they like to spend their time and money on. So yes, I knew what I was doing.”
Griffin was unclear as to how any of the above justified her posing with a representation of the decapitated head of our nation’s elected leader. She did, however, express dismay over how a head -- separated from its body, covered in blood and with the expression of death on its face -- could possibly be mistaken as…just that:
“When I took that photo, one of the things that struck me was that people were actually saying that it was a severed head.”
Somehow, in Griffin’s view, she has spun that into comedy gold:
“So what I like to talk about in my act is, I make a joke of it. Like as if I went to the severed head store.”
Hilarious. And then, the clarification/zinger:
“Which doesn’t exist.”
Newsflash, Kathy: if you have to explain your joke, it's not working. That's Comedy 101, which you apparently skipped.
And next, a nonsensical conclusion:
“So the outrage is faux.”
What isn’t fake, apparently, is the controversy’s devastating blow to Griffin’s career, which she complained about, seemingly believing that audiences owe her work as a comedienne, despite her inability to be one:
“And I don’t have one single day of paid work ahead of me in my own country.”
Whose fault is that?
Nevertheless, about participating in the photo session, Griffin told Rolling Stone on Wednesday, “I knew what I was doing.” Furthermore, severed-head photographer Tyler Shields recounted his support of Griffin in the article:
“I don’t remember if it was the day after, or a couple of days later – I called Kathy and I said to her: 'Listen, this happened to the Dixie Chicks, if you remember, with the George W. Bush thing, and people were burning their albums, and driving over their albums or whatever...Kathy was in a tough mental place and I said, ‘Kathy, this happened to them and they thought they were over, and they had that song and it wasn’t an apology, and it ended up being their biggest song ever.'"
Shields may know a thing or two about photographing presidential decapitations, but he’s no music industry expert: the Chicks’ supposed “comeback” album -- though lavished with praise by the Grammys -- garnered only one-sixth in U.S. sales of their mainstream record Wide Open Spaces. The Chicks had turned the wide open future of their career into a dead end; outside of left-wing circles, they were (and are) still persona non grata -- just like Kathy Griffin now.
“I’m an expert at offending people,” she boasted. Perhaps she’s only an expert at doing something career-crushing and stupid. And ironic: she posed with the latex representation of our President's decapitation; and in doing so, she proved she had lost her own head.
The BBC did pose one particularly poignant question in its introduction of the segment: “What was, and is, Kathy Griffin thinking?” The answer seems to be, “Not much.”