Nobody who’s ever seen Keith Olbermann go off on a rant can deny that he’s a unique talent. Sure, he may be a bombastic blowhard with an ego so outsized that it makes William Shatner’s look puny by comparison—but rarely have I seen someone so capable of delivering lunatic commentary with such earnestness that you can’t help but love the guy. He’s a lot like Russell Crowe in Gladiator, fresh off slaying his enemies in the Coloseum, turning to his audience and screaming, “Are you not entertained?” Except that in Olbermann’s case, his enemies are imaginary, his sword rather dull, and his entertainment value consists mostly of how unintentionally hilarious he is. Call it performance art for short attention spans.
Lately, however, Olbermann has taken his act to new levels as the leader of Resistance GQ, a series of videos he’s made in conjunction with Gentleman’s Quarterly. Now if you don’t associate a magazine aimed at dandies obsessed with hair care products and fashionable t-shirts with manning the barricades, you’re not the only one—but apparently Condé Nast thought it would be good for sales if they made Olbermann their front man in the ongoing battle for cultural supremacy against Donald Trump. In that capacity, he has made hundreds of web videos attacking the Trumpster with all of the passion he can muster—and boy, can he muster a lot. In fact, his takes have been so hot the producers of Fifty Shades have decided to toss the third book out entirely and just have Olbermann do the next movie as a one-man show. Sadly, though, all good things must come to an end, and so it must be with Keith. In the space of one shocking tweet, he has rocked the pundit world as it has never been rocked before:
You read that right, ladies and gentlemen. The Resistance GQ is no more.
I know that so many of you out there just did a spit take, saying, “What, what? How could this be? We want Keith on that wall. We need Keith on that wall! Why has he forsaken us?” Rest assured, it isn’t because people found his opinions overwrought and cartoonish. Nor is it because GQ pulled the plug on the Resistance, believing its money could be better spent elsewhere—such as finally stocking Snickers bars in the employee break room. No, it’s only because Olbermann believes that the impeachment and resignation of Donald Trump is nigh, which means his work here is done. And, much like any celebrity who couldn’t quite make the cut for Dancing With the Stars, he’d like to exit the stage before he wears out his welcome.
Even so, Olbermann’s prognostications about Trump’s imminent demise sound a lot like Republicans who were drooling at the prospect of James Comey recommending charges against Hillary Clinton over her email shenanigans: in other words, a lot of wishful thinking. So there is the distinct possibility, should his predictions not come to pass, that Olbermann might mount a comeback of sorts and dazzle us once again with his prized political punditry. Let’s hope so. The world is nowhere near as interesting without Keith commenting on it. And a lot less funny.