Ricky Gervais. Yeah, it’s so entertaining when you punch down, you self-important gasbag. Just because you’re miserable doesn’t mean you have to spread it around. Also being offensive doesn’t mean that you’re successful. It just means that you’re offensive.
Robert Frost. The inclusion of Frost may be a personal choice based on my alma mater, Middlebury College, where Frost was considered all that and a bag of chips because he taught at the Bread Loaf School of English for 42 years. Yes, he was the poet laureate of Vermont, and yes, he wrote regional poems in a compelling style that married nineteenth century formalism and new vernacular, and, yes, some of it is even good, but, no, he is not the greatest thing since sliced bread.
William Shakespeare. Elizabethan era fan fictioneer extraordinaire and floating signifier, about whom we know very little except, for some reason, English-speaking people like to think he’s like the pinnacle of their cultural output. That’s a depressingly narrow view of English-speaking culture.
David Bowie. Anyone who goes on and on like he invented ambiguous gender presentation is really not paying attention.
Straight white cis non-disabled dudes. All of them ever, especially if they’re already famous for doing something supposedly noteworthy.