A letter to the schoolyard bully who never grew up…
I just want to let you know that I feel sorry for you, mate. I really do. I think people are too rough on you.
Lots of people say that you have no talent, but I think you do. I’ve never listened to your show (except for those times that you’ve been played back on Media Watch), but I know that hosting a radio show does take skill, and you have certainly done that for quite some time.
For that reason alone I hope that everyone goes a bit easier on you in the future.
More importantly, however, I think they should lay off a little because, like many other Australians, I am convinced that for all your outward arrogance, you’re actually a very sad, insecure person. And, it’s not nice to pick on sad, insecure people, no matter how deserving they are of it.
Every time you criticise someone’s weight or physical appearance, or go off at anyone who dares to point even the slightest amount of warranted criticism in your direction, I know that you’re just trying to offload your insecurities onto other people. People shouldn’t judge you for that. It’s human nature.
Your arrogance is just a big elaborate way of distracting yourself from the nagging feeling of self-loathing that starts to well up in the pit of your stomach every time you stop talking into your gold microphone for long enough.
You’re basically a schoolyard bully that never grew up. And, I always did feel pity for school bullies, because I knew they were the saddest, loneliest people. I feel sorry for you because you have badly mistaken attention for respect.
Right now you’re probably revelling in the controversy you have stirred up, completely blind to the fact that the world now respects you even less than ever before. It’s a downward trend that shows no sign of abating.
Kyle, I pity you because if you ever read this letter (and I know you almost certainly won’t) you’ll immediately assume that I am writing it only because I am secretly jealous of your “success”. But the fact is, nothing could be further from the truth.
I would not swap places with you in a million years. You have made a career out of being nasty to people, whereas I get to go to sleep at night knowing that I have tried in my own small way to make the world a happier, smarter place.
Sure, by your standards, I don’t earn much money at all, but that’s OK because I don’t need it to feel happiness or satisfaction. Seeing smiles on the faces of my wife and two sons is worth more to me than all the Rolls Royces and Ferraris in the world.
I feel sorry for you because I don’t think you’ve learned this important life lesson.
I think, most of all, the reason I feel so sorry for you is because, one day, you will grow old and reach the end. You will no longer be “the king” (you think) you are today. You will just be worm food, or some ash in a jar.
And when you get to that point you will realise that your riches never bought you happiness. Your conspicuous possessions will not be there to comfort and love you in those moments.
I feel sorry for you, Kyle, because at that point you will understand that constantly making other people feel bad about themselves was no way to live, and that the pain you inflicted on anyone who stood between you and greater celebrity status was not worth it.
You will rue the vacuous and shallow life that you led, and only then realise it is too late to clean the indelible stain you left on the fabric of Australian culture.
You will regret the fact you prostituted your soul for fame and fortune, because those two things will be worth absolutely nothing to you at that point.
And, if outward appearances really are all you care about, then I’m sorry to inform you that it doesn’t really matter in the end.
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