(Former) Editor's Note, by L. F. Clark
Let me tell you something about the nature of the universe, children. Don't bother trying. This strange existence will assuredly do with you what it will. Your say means nothing. You might as well surrender to the ineffable forces that surround you. Just throw up your hands and say, "Like, whatever, man! I'm done!"
There is no order to this world of ours.
We're just dust in the cosmos.
What I'm getting at, my little unenlightened urchins, is that in the blink of an eye, for no apparent reason, all of your plans can go tits up, and you'll be out on the street sipping mad dog and selling back issues of The Amazing Spider-Man.
One moment you're on top of the world, and the next you've hit rock bottom.
One moment you're the editor of a major literary magazine at a small fine arts residential college, respected and feared by the literate masses, and the next you're just another one of the losers you used to lord over with the iron fist of Doom.
Eh. That's life.
I did, however, want to take this opportunity to clear up a few misconceptions and rumors about my well-publicized demotion:
1) No. I was not using Purple as a front for a vast criminal empire, flooding the dorm with alcohol and heroin and prostitutes. You did all of that yourselves.
2) Yes. I still think Purple is a worthwhile endeavor. Kind of. This issue turned out fine.
3) No. I don't resent my fall, and I surely haven't contacted the NAACP to investigate why Purple's first African-American editor was summarily dismissed.
4) No. I wouldn't call the Purple issue I was responsible for "pornography" in the least. That's absurd. And if you disagree with me, there's definitely no need to put the word "child" in front of it.
5) Yes.
6) I have no regrets and I apologize for nothing. Not for the misogyny. Not for inserting an excerpt from Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test and claiming it was a short story by Scott Collins. Not even for the unfortunate incident at Chez Purple in which I exposed myself to the vaguely disinterested audience, took a shit in a mug, and stabbed a nun.
7) Yes. I'm supremely disappointed that the editorial position wasn't the chick magnet Paul Underwood promised it would be. I didn't get laid once. Not once.
Let me tell you something about the nature of the universe, children. Don't bother trying. This strange existence will assuredly do with you what it will. Your say means nothing. You might as well surrender to the ineffable forces that surround you. Just throw up your hands and say, "Like, whatever, man! I'm done!"
There is no order to this world of ours.
We're just dust in the cosmos.
What I'm getting at, my little unenlightened urchins, is that in the blink of an eye, for no apparent reason, all of your plans can go tits up, and you'll be out on the street sipping mad dog and selling back issues of The Amazing Spider-Man.
One moment you're on top of the world, and the next you've hit rock bottom.
One moment you're the editor of a major literary magazine at a small fine arts residential college, respected and feared by the literate masses, and the next you're just another one of the losers you used to lord over with the iron fist of Doom.
Eh. That's life.
I did, however, want to take this opportunity to clear up a few misconceptions and rumors about my well-publicized demotion:
1) No. I was not using Purple as a front for a vast criminal empire, flooding the dorm with alcohol and heroin and prostitutes. You did all of that yourselves.
2) Yes. I still think Purple is a worthwhile endeavor. Kind of. This issue turned out fine.
3) No. I don't resent my fall, and I surely haven't contacted the NAACP to investigate why Purple's first African-American editor was summarily dismissed.
4) No. I wouldn't call the Purple issue I was responsible for "pornography" in the least. That's absurd. And if you disagree with me, there's definitely no need to put the word "child" in front of it.
5) Yes.
6) I have no regrets and I apologize for nothing. Not for the misogyny. Not for inserting an excerpt from Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test and claiming it was a short story by Scott Collins. Not even for the unfortunate incident at Chez Purple in which I exposed myself to the vaguely disinterested audience, took a shit in a mug, and stabbed a nun.
7) Yes. I'm supremely disappointed that the editorial position wasn't the chick magnet Paul Underwood promised it would be. I didn't get laid once. Not once.
posted by The Little Black Duck at 4:35 PM
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