This week, I cover absolutely nothing in particular and conjoin it with unfounded journalistic glory. If you read further, you may waste approximately four minutes of your life. Feedback is always appreciated. Hateful feedback is appreciated even more.
Never do I stop being amazed at my own ignorance, lack of knowledge on most anything functionally-relevant and my inability to convey to readers that my column isn't really a column. I just ramble. I think I've been clear about this, but to be clear, I'll say it yet again. I ramble. I know very little about a lot and demonstrably, a lot about nothing in particular. Still, despite my almost weekly insanity, coupled with my own admission that I'm probably two tacos shy of a combination plate, there are those that write and call to complain. Appropriately, I stole "two tacos shy of a combination plate" from the famous Oklahoman DJ, R.D. Mercer. Some of you may know him. He arose to regional fame partially as a result of a prank phone call involving a broken thermometer. I stole it in one sentence, and gave it back to him in the next.
Now, I'm no journalist, as some of you have complained of concerning my column-coverings. I'm a reporter. Journalists cover tribunals in the Hague, United Nations drug and oil dealings in New York and dodge bullets in front of live satellite feeds. I cover local events in Boonville, the small and wonderful little town that it is. Thursdays are my time to blow off steam. Our parent company, in all their wisdom, has opted to downsize many of their newsrooms to one and two-person operations. In such instances, this leaves the reader with either the insane ramblings of a 29 year-old for a column, or no column at all. I don't have time to research, interview and proceed forth with Shakespeare-esque copy that is New York Times-worthy. This is what you get.
Interestingly, for all those that complain, far more offer up words of appreciation. Weekly, when people find out I'm the guy with the column about nothing in particular that includes a mugshot-style picture of myself, they applaud. So, that's good enough for me. Most people, despite probably taking weekly offense, applaud my quickly-typed words. Academics, clergy and politicians have all called to complain at one time or another – and that's o.k. However, I'll say it again, if you're going to lose sleep over what I write – if you're that badly offended – then I'm either saying something true or my lies are tantamount to treason. Those are the only two options.
In my time at the Daily News, I've covered and chosen to cover stories that help, that entertain and that inform. When I'm solely responsible for four and five stories per issue, along with the compilation of the paper's interior, save sports, that natural given result is a 500-750 word piece of stress relief on my part. Some stories are good and a few are great. Many are horrible. My columns take little time, are fun and sometimes hated. Two or three weeks ago, someone remarked on a column I wrote about innocent and scuttling little children, mind you – "dude, that's stupid." Perhaps it was. Perhaps the sender might increase their vocabulary before posting such a thing on Facebook for all the world to see. Kudos to them for making that move, though. They come across looking genius-like. Remember the one that said I was "killing my career." That was classic. I'm still here.
Thus far at the Daily News, I've made fun of just about everyone. Christians. Satanists. Republicans. Democrats. Libertarians. Pedophiles. Mormons. Clergy. Homosexuals. Heterosexuals. And myself. My opinions are on my sleeve, which is more than most could say. Journalistic they aren't, offensive they sometimes are and remarkable truth they often convey.