August 04, 2003

Yummy, words.

Okay, okay, I lied before. I think I'm God's gift to writing and I'm going to write in this all the time, because I've actually wanted one of these things for a while-- but my inner syndicated columnist has always been beaten down (barely) by my inner cynical liberal arts student (man, I hate that guy), thus:

Inner syndicated columnist: Hey, Andrew! You know what's great? Writing!
Inner cynical liberal arts student: Pfft.
ISC: [confused by the interruption] And, uh, you know what's even better? Having other people read your writing!
ICLAS: Pfft.
ISC: In, uh, ah-- in an online journal!
ICLAS: Pfft.
ISC: I-- do you want a Kleenex or something?
ICLAS: Look, do you have any idea how many other millions of people keep online journals?
ISC: Well, I... no, I hadn't really thought--
ICLAS: And do you know what the infinitessemal number of people who read those online journals is?
ISC: Yes, but... Couldn't--
ICLAS: So really, all you're doing by keeping an online journal is a sort of bizarre form of intellectual masturbation.
ISC: Ah. I see.
ICLAS: Not so keen now, are you?
ISC: It could work.
ICLAS: Pfft.

But you know what? I like masturbation. So there.

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