In the ever-evolving landscape of American political media, the torch has seemingly passed from the stiff, scripted debates of yesteryear to the raucous, no-holds-barred arena of late-night comedy. This shift was on full display recently when Greg Gutfeld, the host of Fox News’ smash hit “Gutfeld!”, delivered a monologue that did more than just criticize Hillary Clinton—it effectively dismantled her remaining aura of invincibility. In a segment that has since set social media ablaze, Gutfeld took aim at the former Secretary of State’s recent comments on crime, her teaching gig at Columbia University, and her desperate grasp for continued relevance.

The Tweet That Started It All

The catalyst for this comedic carpet bombing was a post by Hillary Clinton on X (formerly Twitter). In an attempt to critique Republican officials, Clinton wrote, “On one hand, Republican officials call themselves war fighters. On the other, they become whiny crybabies at the thought of setting foot in DC streets and New York City subways that literal schoolchildren navigate every day without incident.”

For many, the tweet was a shocking display of tone-deaf elitism. Greg Gutfeld wasted no time in seizing upon the irony. He pointed out that Clinton, who has enjoyed taxpayer-funded Secret Service protection for decades, is perhaps the last person qualified to lecture everyday Americans—or even members of Congress—about the safety of public transit.

“This might be, in my opinion, the worst thing she’s ever said,” Gutfeld declared, noting the stark reality that “kids don’t take the subway” in the carefree manner she suggests, and certainly not without the looming threat of the very crime she dismisses. He highlighted the gruesome reality of modern subway incidents, mentioning “men who set fire to women,” contrasting it sharply with Clinton’s polished, distant view of the world.

The “Yeti” of American Politics

Gutfeld’s critique went beyond policy disagreement; it struck at the core of Clinton’s public persona. He painted her not as a formidable political opponent, but as a lingering, unwanted presence in the national dialogue. “She’s the Yeti who wouldn’t leave,” he quipped, a line that drew raucous laughter from his studio audience.

The metaphors flew fast and furious. Gutfeld compared Clinton’s attempts to re-enter the spotlight to “rebooting Windows 95 while the world runs on lightning Wi-Fi.” It was a scathing indictment of her inability to adapt to a modern media landscape that values authenticity over curated public relations. In Gutfeld’s eyes, Clinton is “marginal royalty from a forgotten European country”—smugly entitled, expecting deference, but receiving only eye-rolls.

Comedy as the Ultimate Weapon

What made this takedown particularly effective was Gutfeld’s use of humor as a weapon of mass deconstruction. In the world of traditional politics, figures like Clinton are used to pivoting, deflecting, and spinning narratives. But against a comedian who refuses to play by those rules, those tactics fall flat.

“In comedy, she’s a deer on an ice rink,” Gutfeld observed. “Sliding, flailing, desperate to stay upright while Greg casually shoves her back down.”

By turning her into a punchline, Gutfeld stripped away the fear and respect that once shielded her. He noted that disabling comments on her controversial post was a sign of weakness, proof that she wanted to broadcast her opinion without facing the “unsavory” reality of public feedback. It was, as Gutfeld put it, a “cultural eviction notice.” The segment suggested that the American public hasn’t just moved on from Hillary Clinton politically; they have moved on from taking her seriously at all.

The “Ego-Worshipping Drivel” of Columbia

The roast didn’t stop at her tweets. Gutfeld turned his attention to Clinton’s new role as a professor at Columbia University, where she co-teaches a course on public affairs. While the position was likely intended to burnish her legacy as a wise elder stateswoman, Gutfeld revealed a less flattering reality.

Citing reports and student reactions, Gutfeld gleefully shared that the class had been described as “ego-worshipping drivel.” He mocked the course content, joking that she was teaching the next generation “how to delete emails and destroy evidence.” The contrast between the “empowering lessons” promised and the reported dissatisfaction of the students served as perfect fodder for Gutfeld’s argument: that the Clinton brand is a product no one wants to buy anymore.

“Even students on the left give Professor Clinton an F,” he noted, highlighting that her inability to connect isn’t partisan—it’s personal.

The End of the “Untouchable” Era

The segment concluded with a broader observation about the nature of power and celebrity. For decades, the Clintons have cultivated an image of inevitability—a brand built on being “untouchable” and “stainless steel.” But as Gutfeld pointed out, that steel is now looking more like a “rusty blender held together with duct tape.”

The internet’s reaction to the monologue confirms Gutfeld’s thesis. Clips of the roast have been shared, remixed, and meme’d across platforms, not because they offer a deep political rebuttal, but because they are undeniably funny. When a political figure becomes the butt of the joke, their power evaporates.

Hillary Clinton may continue to announce that she is “coming out of the woods,” but if Greg Gutfeld has his way, she’ll find that the village has changed the locks. In the brutal, fast-paced world of 2024 media, you can survive a scandal, and you can survive a loss. But as Gutfeld proved with ruthless efficiency, you cannot survive being a joke.