I don't I don't I don't understand this idea that if we hate it, everybody must hate it because we hate it for this reason. Happy Wednesday, everyone. Well, not if you're Whoopi Goldberg, aka Karen Johnson.
Yeah, who knew Whoopi was a Karen? I thought that was only for white people like Toyota Priuses and skiing. Roll it, Francis.
Good morning and welcome to the view. Um, you all saw the news. Whoopy will be back here in two weeks.
Okay. It's so cute when one of their side gets punished. They sulk like they ran out of raw cookie dough.
Everyone expected shouting, drama, and total chaos. What nobody expected was Greg Gutfeld calmly pulling the verbal rug out from under Whoopy Goldberg with a smile, one comment, one pause, and one priceless reaction that said everything without saying a single word. The audience felt it.
The internet replayed it endlessly. and Whoopi. This was absolutely not on her bingo card.
Stay right here because the setup is clever, the timing is deadly, and the payoff is completely unforgettable. So, you know, no one silences us. And to all my friends in Italy who reached out, you have to know it's okay.
We're still here. We're still broadcasting. Whoopy claims Biden's loose bowels shouldn't make voters throw in the towels.
Goldberg's rational so weak she doesn't care if Biden can't speak. Yes, it's a magical land where little Debbies make big bellies and brain cells go to die. This week on The View, Whoopi doubled down on her support of Joe Biden's re-election.
No surprise, but it was her peculiar poo powered pros that peaked my potty pratt election. Roll it. I don't care if he's pooped his pants.
Greg Gutfeld steps into the cultural conversation the way a mischievous librarian walks into a room full of people loudly arguing about a book none of them actually finished. Say it is the same. No, it's not.
The year 2025 in the United States is nothing like if I step foot wearing this outfit. I think it's very different to live in the United States in 2025 than it is to live in Iran. Not if you're black.
Not for everybody. Not if you're black. Girls, girls, girls.
Whoopy. You know you're on the very wrong side of history, even when the fake Republican disagrees with you. I haven't seen Whoopi wave her fingers like that since someone offered her a salad.
Before we go any further, smash that like button and subscribe because you won't want to miss this. Right from the start, it's clear his goal isn't volume, outrage, or theatrical fury. It's something far more dangerous to inflated confidence.
Calm ridicule wrapped tightly in logic. some point. If you are doing the job, I might not like everything you're doing.
I don't like it all, but I'm going to stand behind you. She doesn't care if he his pants, and in fact, she'll stand right behind him. Not only does she have a terrible case of Trump derangement, she also has no sense of smell or a really weird fetish.
And I'm not one to kink shame, to each his own. I guess you just got tired of Joyy's crap. Meanwhile, Whoopi Goldberg, a long-standing authority figure and televised opinion, becomes the perfect subject for Greg Gutfeld's methodical comedic breakdown.
Not because she lacks intelligence, but because she so often leans on confidence and legacy as a standin for coherence. And Greg Gutfeld has an almost allergic reaction to exactly that. The technique for summoning the demon associated with talking out of your ass.
Even Alyssa couldn't tolerate the examples Whoopi made out of thin air. or since it's whippy fat air cat. Um yeah, it was she was like we in this country.
You just knew he was going to me. Yes, he was going to and he didn't. But you have a very good Iranian friend.
She was like we in this country tie gay people to car. It's like speak. Greg Gutfeld never rushes because rushing would suggest urgency and urgency would imply these ideas deserve panic instead of examination.
Instead, he lets Whoopi Goldberg's public position stand exactly as they are, untouched and unfiltered. Because nothing exposes weakness faster than letting an argument survive without emotional padding. Humor emerges naturally as he frames these positions with the casual tone of someone pointing out that the emperor isn't just missing clothes, but seems genuinely shocked anyone noticed.
He treats those gaps like loose threads on an expensive jacket, tugging gently until the whole outfit looks far less impressive than advertised. Cat, you know what was the most interesting thing about this was the audience reaction. Like when she started talking about pooping everywhere, the audience was like frozen.
And they were like, "I don't What is going on here? Whoopy has a poop problem. " What does she mean?
She has poopy days. She has poopy days. I don't know, man.
What does she mean she steps in it? Like she steps in it. She's Are we all supposed to relate to that?
Yeah. It's like all of a sudden all of a sudden she's got a poopy days. That's supposed to be a relatable If she at her level of wealth can't figure out how to not Yeah.
The sarcasm never needs to shout because it trusts the audience to understand that when confidence outpaces clarity, comedy is inevitable. Whoopy Goldberg's long career becomes part of the irony because Greg Gutfeld never attacks her resume directly. Instead, hinting that longevity doesn't automatically equal accuracy.
He frames experience as something that should sharpen perspective rather than freeze it in place. And the humor lands precisely because it sounds reasonable instead of cruel. His mockery works best when it feels like concern disguised as amusement.
As though he's genuinely puzzled by how certainty can survive without any self-examination. He approaches Whoopy Goldberg's public persona the way a skeptical tourist approaches an overhyped landmark. What makes his approach especially effective is his refusal to sound angry because anger would suggest emotional investment and emotional investment would undercut the impression that these ideas are already outdated.
ABC suspended Whippy for two weeks because she said the Holocaust had nothing to do with race. She said this on a show called The View, which makes everything about race except now. The Holocaust isn't about race.
No, no, it's not about race. It's about a different race. But it's it's not about race.
It's not about race because you It's about man's inhumity to man. Yeah, that's heroic. He treats Whoopi Goldberg's statements like museum artifacts labeled handle with care.
Not because they're valuable, but because they're fragile the moment they're exposed to scrutiny. The sarcasm glides effortlessly, making the audience feel like they're in on a joke that was hiding in plain sight the whole time. Greg Gutfeld's mockery builds momentum as he leans into the contrast between Whoopi Goldberg's certainty and the complexity of issues she tackles with sweeping generalizations.
He never needs to exaggerate her positions because the exaggeration is already baked into how confidently they're delivered. By simply recontextualizing these ideas, he turns them into comedy, treating it not as a moral failing, but as an opportunity because nothing invites satire quite like unwavering certainty paired with selective reasoning. His sarcasm works like a spotlight, revealing how emotional assurance so often masks intellectual shortcuts.
The irony of her uh defense of Iran is she was probably stoned. That's why you're sitting in that chair. I mean this I mean she clearly has the munchies at all times.
So that was basically I think there's a couple facts I just simply got wrong. In Iran they don't throw gays off of buildings. They force them to get sex changes.
Kran is the world trans sex capital because gay men are forced to get the surgery to get castrated to become women. because then still Greg Gutfeld keeps the tone of someone entertained rather than threatened and that choice defines the entire roast. Whoopy Goldberg's public confidence becomes the raw material while his wit becomes the refining process that turns over statement into comedy.
He never needs to insult her personally because the humor thrives on examining how authority curdles into complacency once it stops welcoming challenge. He repeatedly implies that Whoopi Goldberg speaks as though disagreement itself proves ignorance and that implication becomes one of the sharpest jabs in the whole script. He reframes this mindset as intellectual bubble wrap designed to protect ideas from impact rather than improve them.
The audience laughs not because it's cruel, but because it feels uncomfortably familiar. As the roast builds, he uses exaggeration sparingly, knowing subtlety carries more sting, comparing Whoopi Goldberg's certainty to a GPS that refuses to reroute even as the road ends at a cliff. The comedy flows smoothly because it never pauses to congratulate itself.
Yeah, it's a selfish TDS moment. She just hates Trump so much, Jamie. Almost as much as your ex-wife hates you.
There it is. Yeah, I saw what she said, Greg. And with all disrespect, Um, I think that she's like this is okay.
I think that if you you're right, it's the putting the sentences together. It's and it's it's the pooping your pants. I feel like to be the president, she's wrong and you should you should be able to put like you could do some jobs like be there's a steady rhythm to Greg Gutfeld's mockery built on the idea that ideas should earn respect rather than demand it.
Whoopy Goldberg's authoritative tone becomes the perfect contrast to his relaxed delivery. And that contrast fuels much of the humor. He presents himself not as a conqueror, but as an amused observer watching certainty struggle to justify itself.
His approach leans heavily on irony, especially when highlighting how Whoopy Goldberg frames complex social issues in oversimplified moral terms. He treats this like intellectual fast food. Satisfying in the moment, but lacking any real nourishment once you look closer.
The sarcasm works because it feels observational rather than preachy, inviting the audience to laugh instead of pick sides. The humor sharpens as he implies that applause isn't proof of correctness, only proof that a message was easy to swallow. He never says this outright, trusting the audience to connect the dots themselves, even for the view.
What did she think Hitler meant when he said master race? The 100meter dash at the Berlin Olympics. So, for the first time in the view's history, it's not about race, just some whites exterminating 6 million other whites.
So, what's the big deal? Her reasoning reminds me of the guy who looks at black-on-black crime and says, "That's just them doing what they do. " Of course, it's that if that callous person were me or you, we would be cancelled faster than a Tinder date with Andrew Cuomo.
The sarcasm stays sharp but controlled, keeping the roast clever instead of mean-spirited. Greg Gutfeld keeps circling back to the theme of confidence versus curiosity, using Whoopi Goldberg as a case study and what happens when one completely replaces the other. He frames this shift as almost tragically funny because curiosity keeps commentary alive while certainty freezes it solid.
The audience laughs because the observation feels both funny and uncomfortably accurate. He also mocks the idea that being loud or passionate automatically makes a point valid. As the script moves into its later sections, he leans into the absurdity of treating opinion as fact simply because it comes from a familiar face, framing Whoopi Goldberg's authority as inherited rather than freshly earned, suggesting that intellectual credibility should be renewable, not permanent.
The comedy resonates because it challenges assumptions without lecturing anyone. The roast ultimately lands because it feels less like an attack and more like a perfectly timed extended eye roll. Now, here's the deal, Kelly.
This was a great strategy on Whoopi or poopy as I like to call her. She got us talk she got us off the topic of talking about cognitive stuff. We're talking about intestinal unfortitude.
Not by choice. Yes. Welcome to the show.
I mean, this just underscores I People hate Trump so much on that side that this is what they're willing to accept. They are figuratively, literally willing to accept. Poop.
Poopy Goldberg's public certainty provides endless material. And Greg Gutfeld's restraint keeps none of it feeling forced. The humor flows smoothly, guided by irony, metaphor, and a flat refusal to take inflated confidence seriously.
He never raises his voice, declares victory or demands agreement. Because none of that fits his style. Instead, he leaves the audience with a lingering amusement that comes from watching certainty get examined and found far less impressive than expected.
Whoopy Goldberg stays exactly who she is. But the lens through which she's viewed has shifted entirely. And that shift becomes the final quiet punchline that makes the whole roast land.
He keeps pressing the advantage, not by raising his volume, but by deepening the contrast because nothing rattles inflated certainty quite like being treated as outdated rather than simply opposed. The liberal privilege, Whoopi hangs on, which is fine since she apologized, but not before digging an even deeper hole than the one in her head. Here she is on Co Bear, which is French for crushing boar.
I I feel being black when we talk about race, it's a very different thing to me. So I said that I I felt that the Holocaust wasn't about race. People were very angry and they said, "No, no, we are a race.
" And I I I understand. At this point, Greg Gutfeld leans into the absurdity of how Whoopy Goldberg's opinions are so often treated as cultural shortcuts, sparing audiences the effort of thinking by handing over prepackaged conclusions. He mocks this gently but persistently, suggesting that certainty delivered with a familiar smile becomes a stand-in for evidence in spaces that reward confidence over clarity.
The joke lands because it feels less like an accusation and more like an observation anyone paying attention has already made themselves. As the roast deepens, he subtly reframes Whoopy Goldberg's authority as ceremonial rather than functional, like a title that commands respect without necessarily doing any real work. He doesn't deny her influence, but openly questions its usefulness.
And that distinction becomes one of the script's sharpest tools. The humor comes from watching influence get mistaken for insight. A mixup Greg Gutfeld treats as both amusing and completely inevitable.
Boss tells View enough already, D. And according to the Daily Beast, Disney and ABC execs have told the view to tone down their Trump bashing cuz they're constantly doing it. Uh, should they though?
I mean, isn't this their brand now? They got nothing left. If you take that away, what do they have?
Nothing. As if the show is some delightful chitchat fest without the political talk. Yeah.
Oh, Greg Gutfeld also plays with the idea that Whoopy Goldberg's certainty thrives in environments where disagreement gets framed as hostility rather than engagement. He treats this as a comedic flaw, suggesting that ideas genuinely confident enough to be correct should welcome scrutiny rather than flinch from it. The sarcasm stays controlled, never tipping into cruelty, because he understands that ridicule lands best when it sounds like disbelief rather than anger.
The script keeps building on the theme that Whoopi Goldberg's commentary leans on moral shortorthhand, reducing complex issues to tidy conclusions that feel satisfying but leave little room for nuance. He highlights this by amplifying its simplicity, not to twist her views, but to reveal how little structure holds them up once the emotional reinforcement is stripped away. The laughter comes from recognition, not exaggeration, making Whoopi Goldberg feel less like an outlier and more like a familiar symbol.
Episode of the View when the ladies put their science caps on and discuss the solar eclipse. I know, right? I mean, I have to say, um, Karen Dupich, our our wonderful one of our wonderful makeup artists, when the earthquake was happening, she put her coat on and she was like, "Jesus is coming.
" I'm I'm out. I'm leaving. We've got a solar eclipse.
Uh, we've got the earthquake. She ran down the hallway. The rapture is here.
Rapture is here. And then also, I learned that the sicatas are coming. Cicas.
Cicas. For the first time in no for the first time in in many throughout the roast, Greg Gutfeld maintains a tone of amused detachment like he's watching a familiar routine play out exactly as expected. He treats Whoopi Goldberg's reactions, past statements, and public persona as predictable results of a system that rewards certainty over substance.
The sarcasm deepens as he suggests predictability itself is the real problem because ideas that never evolve eventually turn into caricatures of themselves. He also targets the theatricality of moral certainty, hinting that Whoopy Goldberg often performs conviction rather than genuinely arriving at it through reasoning. He frames this as comfort food for audiences who prefer affirmation over challenge.
And the joke lands because it reframes applause as indulgence rather than validation. The humor never pauses to explain itself, trusting the audience to catch every implication on their own. I kind of like when somebody tells me not to do something like uh for the longest time they were saying, "Stop with the poop jokes.
" All right. And it just made me do more poop jokes. It's like on Red Eye, they were saying, "Can you please what is your fascination with poop?
" And I go, "I don't know. Beats the out of me. " Um, so they told him to to lighten up and and this is what they did on the the Qatar jet or cutter jet.
The United States has accepted the plan is going to he has accepted the plane. As the script pushes further, Greg Gutfeld contrasts his casual tone with Whoopy Goldberg's authoritative delivery, highlighting how style so often disguises a lack of substance. He treats seriousness as a costume anyone willing to speak loudly enough can wear, suggesting Whoopi Goldberg has mastered the costume while neglecting the tailoring underneath.
His mockery turns almost philosophical as he explores how her certainty leaves no room for doubt and therefore no room for growth, framing doubt not as weakness, but as the very engine of understanding. The audience laughs because the inversion feels both clever and true. He also circles back to the theme of legacy, suggesting that Whoopy Goldberg's long career has shielded her from the scrutiny newer voices face constantly.
He treats this shield as both privilege and liability, because protection from challenge so often leads straight to stagnation. And the sarcasm sharpens as he implies that longevity should demand higher standards, not lower ones.
