We were the Grouchos! We’re not the Margaret Dumonts — and we’re turning into the Margaret Dumonts on a lot of levels.

They say—they being creative writing professors, esteemed novelists, and hacks with wordy Instagram posts alike—that writers write. Writers who get their shit out there—not all of it, but enough of it—are the real writers. True warriors of the pen and keys.

What I miss most is the opportunity to just throw down and fucking laugh like an idiot about, well, anything.

Thank god for Jackass. I appreciate the not-so-gentle reminder.

They say—they being creative writing professors, esteemed novelists, and hacks with wordy Instagram posts alike—that writers write. Writers who get their shit out there—not all of it, but enough of it—are the real writers. True warriors of the pen and keys.

Wouldn’t that be something? If COVID-19 were a divine plague like the ten popularized by Cecil B. DeMille, we’d applaud the lord’s work. Take them! Take them, Lord! Snuff them out like you did with the Flood and those pesky Egyptian slave owners! Take the Mayor Goodmans and the President Trumps and the Governor Kemps and that woman hanging out of her car window like a white trash scrub. But, above all, dear Lord Almighty, take the Instagram influencers.

We were the Grouchos! We’re not the Margaret Dumonts — and we’re turning into the Margaret Dumonts on a lot of levels. That lets the misogynists and homophobes and racists seem like the rebels: “Well, we’re saying what people can’t say anymore.” We should be having way more fun with language and jokes and going too far. If our side starts doing that, then I think we’re fucked in terms of moving forward as a society. -- Patton Oswalt

In art and dream may you proceed with abandon. In life may you proceed with balance and stealth. - Patti Smith