This article incorporates adult themes and language.
This is a flat-out attack on the hypocrisy and thin-skinned holiness of a major blog that purports to stand for freedom of expression and open ideas. The blog is BoingBoing.net. I’ve had my problems with the site before, having made comments that their moderators found to be excessive or too foul-mouthed for their rather puritanical tastes. I say puritanical and I mean exactly that.
Boing Boing has a problem with genitalia. You’ll see why in a few moments.
Apparently, I write like somebody named David Foster Wallace. I know… it’s weird. Who would have thought? Who is David Foster Wallace? I think he’s kind of high literary serious-minded and wild sort of college professor type stuff. I should just do a Wikipedia on him, but I don’t really want to know who this person is that I supposedly write like. Below, you can see my official badge that proves the Wallace connection:
I got my writing-like-David-Foster-Wallace badge from I Write Like. It could not have been easier. I simply pasted several of my very opinionated and slightly acidic blog posts into the I Write Like form and then pressed the button. Each time, this David Foster Wallace guy popped up. One blog post that I dribbled out because I had nothing of interest to say on that day came up as Dan Brown. No surprise there because Dan Brown is so numbingly uninteresting that his brain should be transplanted into the body of Tom Hanks where it would dwell very contentedly for some time I would suppose.
I Write Like is really loads of fun. I could paste entries into it all day long and feel that I had spent my time well. That’s what I’m doing today. For the entire rest of the day I’m going to sit here dropping my blog posts into this machine to find out if maybe I really am David Foster Wallace. I may even start to make stuff up just for this writing machine and eventually maybe I’ll see my own name pop up: I write like…
This is Bob Dylan with his typewriter. I got the image from a nice blog called Daily Dose of Dylan. I know Mr. Dylan really likes playing his music everywhere and I sure like listening to him when he does it. But I have a message for him too: Hey, you with the boots, you really should make a blog and write in it. Not a fake one. A real one that you write for on a laptop in airports and stuff like that. Or on long bus rides. That would be something I’d read. I always wonder what a blog by Jack Kerouac might have been like had he been around to write one. I don’t want to die without knowing what a Bob Dylan blog would be like.