|In case you were wondering, I may have altered that background just a tad, to bring it into line with reality...|
Normally this piece is the sort of thing I would do, once I put on a Hazmat suit to crawl around an NYMagazine article, but Gun Free Zone has done it so well, no one else need bother.
"Hogg is not a media savant. He is a kid that is attracted to fame and has figured out the more off the wall shit he says, the more airtime he gets. It’s not nuance and intellect he’s known for. He’s the anti-gun firebrand equivalent of the YouTube star eating cereal out of the bathtub she’s sitting in." - GFZ
From the original article:
"More immediately, Hogg needs to figure out college. He has declined an offer of admission at UC Irvine, where he might have otherwise gone, but applying to schools again this fall isn’t very appealing — he knows he tests poorly, and he doesn’t like to write." - NYMagThis is a C- student on his best day, who realizes he has no hope in Hell of competing with the average student in the UC system, and attendance at college would serve to return him to his drab, pre-fame whore existence in about 0.2 seconds: he'd be just another inadequately-prepared beta-cuck soyboy there among thousands, and once word of his middling to failing grades got out (as it would) he'd be rightly and promptly seen far and wide as the delusional yammering dipshit he really is and always will be. Which crashing reality accords poorly with his fantasies of undeserved fame, fortune, office, and yet more fame.
Hogg is a sociopathic fame whore with delusions of grandeur, and he's one real-world physical beat-down from that moment of self-aware epiphany.
We'll let Inspector Calahan sum up what happens next:
Please, let the Fates decree it be soon.
Andy Warhol called for Mssr. Hogg, to let him know his fifteen minutes were up some good amount of time ago.