Scott Adams died today, and we cats have a few thoughts.
His obits have correctly led not just with the creation of Dilbert but also Adams's spectacular crash and burn after he spewed racist comments on his podcast a couple of years ago. (Did you know that our country's 50 million Black people were a "hate group"? Neither did we.)
Not content with stopping there, Adams also questioned whether six million Jews really, truly died in the Holocaust (or was this a number that "someone pulled out of his ass?"), and he said that "women are treated differently by society for exactly the same reason that children and the mentally handicapped are treated differently. Its just easier this way for everyone."
Scott, not to mince words or anything, but fuck you and good riddance.
Hundreds of newspapers dropped Dilbert like a hot potato, as did the publisher Penguin Random House. "My reputation is destroyed," Adams whined. "You can't come back from this, am I right?" Right.
Adams was, unsurprisingly, a big Trump admirer. He remained steadfast even through all of Benedict Donald's outrages, and despite the damage it did to his career. (He even begged Trump on Twitter to help get him access to the cancer drug Pluvicto. In the end, it had to be postponed due to radiation treatments. Well, now it's permanently postponed.)
It seems to us that, as he's done with so many, Donald Trump gave Scott Adams — who had previously been rich, admired, and successful — permission to be his worst self. Adams behaved accordingly, and look what it got him. "I sacrificed everything. I sacrificed my social life. I sacrificed my career. I sacrificed my reputation. I may have sacrificed my health. And I did that because I believed it was worth it."
All righty, then. We'll close by noting that President Joe Biden, who is also battling stage IV prostate cancer — and whom Adams dragged for allegedly "not admitting" to having it earlier — has managed to outlive him. Nice work, Joe. We cats PURR.
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