GOSSIP GONE WILD! Pardon the stench and the muck. This weekend I spent way too much time at Gawker, where a seemingly crazed gossip peddler took control for two days, ball bearings in hand.

Let's quickly review the background: Word has it that Jared Paul Stern, while a freelance reporter for Page Six, was open to tilting coverage of high-flying moneybags Ron Burkle in exchange for $100,000 down and $10,000 per month--much, much higher than what Blog About Town had been charging! Note that Stern is also diversified: He's got a clothing operation, Skulls & Bones by Jared Paul Stern, that's "dedicated to making high-quality clothing with an edgy, prep sensibility for men and women."

Getting back to that money business with Burkle: You might leap to the conclusion that Stern thought Burkle was up to some sort of hanky-panky that was worth that much in silence and his "journalistic integrity." But gossip-clothier Stern only admits to making a simple mistake: "My error in judgment was combining discussions about an investment in my clothing company with one about advising him on media coverage, especially in such a way that it could be twisted out of all proportion by the slimeball, billionaire lapdogs at the Daily News," he told Gawker in a post dated April 13.

In the same Gawker item, Stern was asked why he wasn't following legal advice to maintain silence. His response: "If I’ve I learned anything in this, it’s that if you’ve been falsely accused the best thing to do is speak up and defend yourself. And if you’re a lowly freelance writer squaring off against a powerful, politically-connected billionaire, no-one else is going to tell your side of the story." [sic]

The next day, Gawker posted this announcement:

In a stroke of questionable genius from our otherwise-adorable management, disgraced Page Six staffer Jared Paul Stern will be guest-editing Gawker this weekend. Why? We don’t know — those answers exist somewhere high above our pay grade. Nevertheless, far be it from us to punch in on a weekend to keep Jared away from the controls, so we suppose he’ll be in charge of things until Monday. Do stop by and get your dose of Level Three protection.

Perhaps Gawker publisher Nick Denton expected Stern to follow through on his publicly stated intentions by squaring off and telling his side of the story over the weekend. But there wasn't much of that, aside from Stern's link to a April 12 Phoenix story ("Sleazy? Yes. Criminal? Probably Not.") that questions whether Stern could technically be accused of the crime of extortion. Stern didn't even link to this April 12 interview with Howard Gensler, in which the gossip did limn out a case that he was framed.

No, Stern didn't use his Weekend at Denton's to clarify what he ought to know best: his own side of the story. Instead, he used his bully pulpit for braying and, well, bullying. And bitching. Case in point: He devoted an entire post to some model-actress named Estella Warren, who committed the horrific crimes of "expressing disappointment that many of her friends were portrayed inaccurately on Page Six" and voicing the opinion that Burkle is "a good guy and he is not being portrayed as the guy he really is."

Stern's response to Warren's remarks wasn't to defend Page Six's accuracy or present evidence that Burkle is not a good guy. Instead he wrote, "The silly bitch seems to have forgotten that I put her on the map via Page Six back when Paolo Zampolli first brought her over from a pig farm in Peterborough, Ontario." It's as if Stern thinks the former farmgirl owes him for his Page Six coverage!

My impression is that Stern has been so immersed in the sleaze trade for so long that he might have lost his grip on any measure of conduct other than quid pro quo. Besides bitching about Warren, he actually devoted much of his two days to regurgitating insinuations about Burkle. That's right: Stern, who didn't get those big Burkle bucks, just spent the weekend trying to raise suspicions about the billionaire being involved in some sort of hanky-panky!

I haven't paid much attention to either Burkle or Stern, but it seems that Stern's Gawker items don't even amount to anything more than the same old slop: Burkle is wealthy and powerful, he might have tried to influence press coverage, he might have a jones for young models, and he's "linked" to the Clintons, Michael Jackson, and other celebs and power brokers. That's nothing new...and not much in terms of news. (I might as well note that Burkle is also "linked" to Stern, but Stern didn't seem to think that worth even a blind item like "Which gossip-cum-fashionisto did business with a tycoon until rates nearly rocketed through the roof?")

Adding to the sorry spectacle were many of the comments at Gawker (though Emily of emdashes deserves credit for rising out of her Elk Candy grief to offer punctuation tips). Anonymous and readily identifiable posters didn't stop at merely criticizing Stern; they also dredged up gossip about his past and even his gal Snoodles's past--often using taunts associated with homophobia. Stern seems to have responded like a Web novice, suggesting that he knew who those posters really were, and also deleting and rewriting comments. Bad, bad Jared!

So Stern belly-flopped big during his stint at Gawker while Denton watched. Comments are calling for Denton and his Gawker editors Jessica Coen and Jesse Oxfeld to disclose exactly what went on at the website during Stern's tenure. I'd like to see them do just that. So far this Letter From the Editors has been posted:

Ahem. Well. That was interesting. Good news, though: It’s over. Mommy and daddy are back now, kiddies, and everything will be all right. Comments won’t be deleted or edited anymore. (In fact, we’ll leave them entirely alone, like we always do — and, don’t worry, JPS’s habitual mendacity notwithstanding, they’re as anonymous as ever.) We’ll talk about things other than Ron Burkle. And we’ll always remember that, whatever else happened in their interaction, and however scummy Burkle may or may not otherwise be, Jared Paul Stern is nevertheless on tape demanding the man pay him off to the tune of $100,000 up front and an additional $10,000 per month. So relax and enjoy the new good old days.

Or, at least, relax and enjoy them until next weekend, when we hear publisher Nick plans to bring in Darryl Littlejohn to explain how it was actually all Imette’s fault.

(And, please, comment away on this one. Comment like the wind. Frolic in the comments. Nuestro comments es su comments.)

Photo: David Marc Fischer