I don't think Jeremy Clarkson actually exists.

 

Think about it. Jeremy, as we are lead to believe, is a 6 foot 5, well spoken, quick-witted Brit gallivanting around the planet driving cars and having adventures. When he's at home, he's known to berate road crews for causing a delay and call for the assassination of striking public workers. Surely, he's a ratings magnet invented by the British media to both horrify and demonstrate British social dominance over the rest of the world.

But you might argue that we've seen him for over 18 series on Top Gear and countless candid photos on the web, therefore he must surely exist. But we've seen plenty of tall, curly haired beasts on the TV and Interwebs that don't really exist: Sasquatch for example.

 

I don't know anyone who has ever seen him in person. I have met many--if not most--big-name automotive journalists and none has met him. I've been to the towns that he's written about and the locals don't recall him. They saw camera crews, Richard Hammond, etc, but never Clarkson himself.

 

As an automotive journalist, he's hit unfathomable success. He drives the best of the best that the world's automakers have to offer. He writes pithy, tooth-achingly funny reviews of them. And he's the mind behind the world's foremost automotive program Top Gear. If that weren't enough, Clarkson's annual income is just slightly above that of Shaq and only a hair below the Queen.

 

I must conclude then that he is simply an invention of a conglomeration of entertainment geniuses much like Franklin W Dixon, Santa Clause, and Ronald Reagan.

 

I once wrote:

Step one: Become an automotive journalist.

Step two: _________________

Step three: Profit.

 

I now know step two should read 'Become Jeremy Clarkson.' Ya know, if that were possible.