The Huffington Report



Ah, the anxiety of influence. To come after The Great One. To be an historian after the end of history. We were beaten to the punch and now must exist in the shadows of The Guardian's brilliant spoof (link via Romenesko via OJR) of "The Huffington Report."

Still, we'll give it the old college try. Perhaps we can add a facet to the polished diamond created by the Guardian. The Corsair has obtained a copy of some of the "celebrity bloggage" that will be seen on "The Huffington Report" -- wink, wink. Here it is:

Auspicious beginnings! posted by 'Ari' on Mon May 9 2005 at 09:00 PDT Greetings, everyone. Well, I am unusually excited to finally have for you here The Huffington Post, or as we call it "Being Huffy." But it's not all about me, only somewhat. As the weeks progress, we will have lined up more than 249 of the most creative minds in the country, plus Maggie Gylenhaal. Barum-bum. Plus: we will not be censoring any of the saltier "Mametspeak" posts by David Mamet. Enjoy.

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It's All About Power, posted by V as in Victory Jordan on May 9 at 08:55 PDT

Lots of power in the room. If I stop posting in midsentence, don't take it personal-like; there's simply someone richer than you who just crossed my radar screen. Neat little hustle, Ari's running. Corzine, Diller, Gyllenhaal. I'm Vernon Jordan, by the way, but my friends call me "Bubbles." You may remember me as the guy that the Clinton handlers wouldn't let drive Clinton in the golf cart because it looked too "Driving Miss Daisy." Hell, I'd toss Miss Daisy's salad with extreme prejudice and say it tasted like a '49 Mouton Cadet if she could get me some face time with the President or Warren Buffett. If power is an aphrodisiac -- dammit -- then get me a hotcomb!

The demystification of the American Dream, posted by Mamet on Mon May 9 at 09:21 PDT

Commercialism is rampant. Fer chrissakes. Everythings a scam, a house of games. We're constantly buying crap we don't need. And wasting time reading shit. Like this blog. Fucking product. Goddam internets. And television, 700 channels of stupid.

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What's New Pussycat? Posted by WarrenBeatty on Mon May 9 2005 at 13:09 PDT

I'll bet you think this blog is about me, don't you? Annette says it isn't really cheating if I blog online while wearing gloves. I insisted on the 3/4 profile lighting slightly shaded so my receding hairline's out of focus. How's my hair by the way? Too much "product"? Not enough? Great girl, my wife. Shoulda won the Oscar. Going to Bob Evans mansion tonight with Jack, "Pro," to relive memories. The 70s; all that ass we "Bullworthed."

Which reminds me -- give us a post, Halle. We'll do lunch. Chow.

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Cupping Posted by Gwynnie Paltrow on Mon May 9 2005 at 14:22 PDT

I'm wearing all Marc Jacobs tonight, and my husband, Chris Martin was just telling me how he missed by paradoxical pregnancy boobs, and, whatever, while we were, like, spooning, which is a lot less fun than "cupping," I must say in my best Madonna faux British by way of Spense School accent. Very 1950s films star, that.

But I'm not frosty or dismissive or anything, like Hepburn; God, that's such a misconception no doubt started by at Spense. I'm warm and fertile, bearing fruit, like "Apple." Ha-ha, get it?

Seriously, wow, there are like all these buttons and all on this "internets" concept. Crazy. And it says "Apple," which i like, and it's all interactive, kind of like The Theater, where those louche paparazzi folks take pictures. Imagine the cheek! One doesn't take pictures at The Theater, one simply gives oneself over to the experience.

Okay, so maybe I'm frosty and dismissive.So, yeah, like I'm on haitus with acting, and it's not because I've --like -- emitted tons of stinkers and Harvey decided Penelope was going to be his next muse or anything like that. Unfortunate that Miramax went belly up. It's all so Kabballa redstring.

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What's a Blog? Posted by L David on Mon May 9 2005 at 15:00 PDT

Did you ever wonder why this thing is called a blog? Why couldn't they call it something nicer, like "online notebook of zany, observational thoughts," or something. So, Arianna cornered me at some fundraiser or other that the wife drags me too and starts courting me in that sexy Greek accent of hers. I was trying to make a quick exit in my electric car, but Arianna does a wicked sprint. Do people still "court," by the way? What a crazy word, that "courting."

"Blog" sounds kind of like something you do in the bathroom, by the way. Are you typing this verbatim, Consuela? You can't find good help nowadays. I want you to type every word I say. Consuela, or I'll report you to immigration.

And, while we're on the subject: What is it about this internet?

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