Even More Essays

Is it Christmas already?  Even better.  I tell you just how wrong and awful you are in more of my completely serious essays which took me a really really long time to write, for all you know.  These are not comical, so stop laughing.  They only seem that way because of how warped and wimpy you weenies have become thanks to a liberal media, and all this tolerance and globalization of the world market place.


 Proper spelling is for chumps.  I never do anything while writing that I do not enjoy for this simple reason: joy is like a good spice.  I wouldn't want to eat a big bowl of cinnamon, but I wouldn't want to eat oatmeal without it either.  Joy may not be sufficient, but it is necessary.  Even more than grammar.  A lot more even more so.  Many of my favorite singers stink, to be plain.  Sorry Fats Waller.  I love you, but in a singing contest, you would lose.  You too Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Beatles, Eddie Cantor, and then some.  But you know what old entertainers had that shone through?  Desire.  Passion.  Confidence.  Sure, failures have all those things too, but maybe not as much, and it shone through their music.  They had so much fun, we had to have some too.  Not like these business men these days, who only do a thing because they can't think how else to make money and be a celebrity.  Used to be Michael Jordan thought being unable to go anywhere like a normal person was a drawback.  But now Lebron James won't even wipe his ass without letting us know just how well he did it.  And you think Jay Z or any of these hip hop home boys would be getting jiggly with it, or big pimping, if there weren't money to be had in doing so?  Please.  Leonard Cohen sang because he liked singing.  The millions of dollars were besides the point.  They were the icing on the cake.  Now, no one eats the cake.  They just buy a tub of frosting.  That's why your whole family has diabetes.  Be sure to let them know next family reunion.