Write What You Know

Oh the poor reading public. We’ve been swindled and lied to. National Treasure Oprah has been publicly embarrassed for Christ’s sake. Between Frey and LeRoy and Viswanathan, how can we believe that any writing is true or at the very least original anymore? It’s all so confusing.

Which is why people who write things should probably be in prison, or at least monitored very closely.

Hmm. I guess this means I am a potential suspected rapist, murderer and pedophile, not to mention junkie, Cambodian and retarded teenage boy. You are what you write, after all.

Or at least, what you write must reflect some real and prosecutable desire. Ben Metcalf tests this theory in Harper’s. It’s a fun game! Let’s all play. Me first: I would like to wrap the president’s head and genitals in bacon, truss him up with razor wire and lower him so that he is horizontally suspended over a tank of Amazonian jumping piranhas. (Legal disclaimer: Not really!) Now you.