Only Hacks Get Paid

Let me tell you about Writing.

In the words of the Great Charles Bukowski, “Doctors, Lawyers, Plumbers – they make all the money in this world! Writers? Writers starve. Writers suicide. Writers… go mad.”

No truer words have ever been spoken. One doesn’t become a writer – or a standup comedian – or an artist – or a musician – because of a bit of native talent, and an eye on opportunity. Only actors do that, and only because their parents make them. For the True Artist, it is a calling; at our hearts we are all misfits, incapable of working a straight job, who harbour a deep loathing for all we see (I hold it that love is simply another form of loathing).

We do it because we ain’t no good for anything else.

But it’s more than just an urge to spew our bile on the world; if that were all that drove us, we’d become a lobbyist, or join Green Peace, or Al Qaeda. There’s also the demands of the craft. No Artist worth their salt expects to do things for free. We might not make that much, but we Will find a market, and provide a product which satisfies their demand. The True Artist makes Art that others want.

So imagine my disgust earlier today when the Captain linked to this Overpaid Buffoon.

Generally speaking, dear readers, it’s considered crass to outright state that you are a Better Writer than others who practice the craft.  Generally these statements are for the likes of Margaret Atwood (who cannot write a denoument), Cormac McCarthy (who cannot figure out punctuation), or Stephenie Meyer (a Christian who writes Satanist tracts without knowing it, and has too many vowels in her name).  In all but the most odious of cases, it’s considered the Height of Hubris to say “I am a better writer than that!”

Margaret Wente is one of those most odious of cases.  I am a better writer than her.

In fact, I am a better columnist than her.

Wente is an utter hack; a woman who can barely string a sentence together, and whose politics have all the depth and subtlety of the organization named Campus Crusade for Christ.  On the 5th, she blamed the Occupussies unemployment on their worthless degrees.  Two days later on the 10th, she blamed unemployed men for not purchasing the same worthless degrees.  Nowhere in her writing do you find any penetration or depth.  She simply points outs the most obvious surface features, and calls it a day.

Univesity education is 5x what it was twenty years ago, with no similar increases in average wages.  The industries hit by the global recession are almost exclusively the productive ones, while the tax-supported, female worked industries continue to leach off the system like a fattened tick.  The Occupussies – cofunsed though they may be – were sold a bogus bill of goods, convinced to go into debt at the age of 18 to only now find out they purchased worthless degrees…

As for Wente?  She got an English degree in University.  Lucky for her that back then any hack with a slit between her legs and a triple-digit IQ could get a job as a jern-a-list.

Writers like her are one reason among many that the newspaper industry is collapsing.  She pulls all the tricks – quotes some random dude named Ben, to imply reseach which never happened – tries (incompetently) to tie her article to broader, irrelevant social patterns – and ultimately reaffirms the Standard Narrative of the audience she’s writing for.

Only problem is, that audience ain’t going to be here much longer.

Her writing is nothing but platitudes and prozac for the Baby Boom generation; assurances that they had no part in creating this Broken and Breaking world for their children.  Assurances that the status quo can maintain, just one more bailout and things will be set right.  That they’re not a bunch of vampires leaching away the wealth that the Greatest Generation left behind.

And I think she just might be stupid enough to believe all of that.

This is what happens when nepotism and ideology guides an industry instead of Truth; the publishing industry is *almost* entirely run by incompetent feminists who wouldn’t know a well written word if it accosted them in the stairwell of a parking garage; presumably, they’d abort the resultant book before it gestated.  The media hires pundits and morons who can’t see the writing on the wall, and simply provide an echo chamber for the fat, stupid, fatty-fat fat people who watch network news.  They actively provide a smoke screen of propaganda because the Truth is to logical and sharp and clear for twisted up sods like them to understand.

There is hope, however: go and read the comments section on her Man Up Article.  It looks like our generations – the X’ers and the Millenials – are starting to get it.

If this is what it takes to be a jern-a-list, I’ll stick to Science Fiction and Blogging, thank you very much.  I prefer the company down here.  We may be unwashed, but at least our souls don’t stink of shit and formaldehyde.

Right, that’s the one thing I forgot to mention about the True Artist.  We right for our audience, sure – but we’re not for sale.