Internet blog Defamer – Los Angeles sister site of the New York gossip site Gawker which employs some of the Big Apple’s finest (alleged) girlfriend-punching Oscar Wilde impersonators – took attention-whoring to a sad new level today when it offered up this $1000 reward for a recent photo of Hollywood’s most loved/hated and talked-about journalist, Nikki Finke of Deadline Hollywood Daily.

So what inspired Defamer to scrape up what little testosterone it had left after accidentally stumbling into Converge’s mosh pit at Fuck Yeah Fest where it was kicked in the nads by a dervishing straight-age kid, and throw down its American Apparel free-trade gauntlet in the general direction of Hollywood’s “Evil Headmistress” as they quite cleverly refer to Finke, even going so far as comparing her to the fucking Church of Scientology (is this some new variation of Godwin’s Law?)?

If their post is to be believed, it’s because the internet is FED UP with Nikki’s vindictiveness, her legal bullying, her unhealthy spirit of competition with other media outlets, and because fuck her, that’s why.

Defamer goes on to explain that given Deadline’s comparatively low traffic (compared to THEIRS, the author makes sure to point out) and limited appeal, the alleged multi-million dollar payout Finke got for her site from Mail.com honcho Jay Penske seemed like a bit of a screw-job.

Thanks for sticking up for the little guy, Kick-a-Bitch Media. The little guy in this is case apparently being Gawker Media owner Nick Denton, who ISN’T AT ALL miffed that Deadline’s new benefactor, Penske, also started Movieline to serve as direct competition for Defamer, and in so doing stole away most of the crumbling entertainment blog’s best talent.

Or maybe Slap-a-Ho Media’s editors are just miffed that Entourage is name-checking Nikki this season instead of their passé Hollywood gossip site? Yeah, yeah… Defamer: I remember that blog being sooo very with the fat-cankled CAA assistant set circa the time Lost was the hot new show, “My Humps” was burning up the charts and ring-tones were gonna save the music industry. But that was back when Mark Lisanti was editor-in-chief – one of the few writers in the Gawker empire’s history who could turn a phrase (and whose writing didn’t make me want to punch said scribe in the fucking face). Now Defamer is an inconsequential shadow of its former self, with a small army of Lisanti Lites in its underpaid employ phoning in watered-down versions of what was once the snark-laden voice of the pre-Twitter internetz. And by the way: guess which site Lisanti writes for now? That’s right, Jay Penske’s Movieline! To quote The Green Heather: Jealous much?

Nikki Finke, meanwhile, fucking matters. Sure, she might be a few sprinkles short on her sundae, but there’s a very good reason she’s garnering attention lately and you’re not, you jealous MGMT-listening fucks. And her anonymity is a big part of what makes her so effective and thus important. The purity of her writing is protected by her self-prescribed position way outside the Hollywood social circle. She resists celebrity like it’s the fucking Mexican BACON-AIDS because she is acutely aware of Hollywood’s BORG-ian assimilation of even those on its fringes. See: Perez Hilton. Yeah, I wish I never had to see that fat fucking retard again either; but let him serve as the prime example of why Smack-my-bitch-up Media’s witch hunt is merely an exercise in spite intended to undermine Nikki’s greatest strength. You deserve whatever legal couch-fucking Nikki sends your way, fey hipster spouse-abusers. However you post-modernly justify it, your thinly veiled character assassination – like hair-farmer Jani Lane talking shit about Kurdt Kobain circa 1992 – only further proves your obsolescence.

Look, I’ve fired my share of good-natured satirical arrows at Nikki “TOLDJA!” Finke. I’ve made the same easy agoraphobia, cat-hoarder and morbid obesity jokes that everyone else has. Probably because the only image she’s given us, besides the obviously touched-up black & white headshot above, is the one in our imaginations — and the Nikki of my imagination (and most everyone else’s) is basically a female version of this guy. But I respect that crazy bitch. Nikki has titanium balls and unlike every other Tinsel Town media outlet, she isn’t in any studio or mogul’s pocket. She created her own empire and has become a household name in some of Los Angeles’ most affluent neighborhoods because of her brutally honest and tireless reporting. She’s not trying to parlay her success into a TV show. She’s not trying to get anyone to read her fucking script. Unlike every other Hollywood tattler, she’s not carrying around some backpack full of unfilled dreams. She’s found her niche, and she fucking owns it.

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