"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes ‘Awww!’"
-Jack Kerouac, On the Road.
"I want to be around the people that are fizzing and bubbling and never say a commonplace thing. They’re like fireworks! They are bursting in the sky and making everyone go ‘ah!’"
Sitting at my fluorescent-lit shoebox of a cubicle this morning, I couldn’t help but wonder why a career in journalism has so much clout. This is what I came up with:
We’re culturally relevant people, all the time — What’s that you say? Goose Island was bought out by A-B? Rosie is moving to Chicago? Chris Brown is an ass again? And Donald Trump is a bigger ass? Next is opening April 6? We know. Before you do. It’s our job to know, and dissect this information, and give it to you in a pretty package. We tweet, we blog and we’re allowed to use Facebook at work. In fact, we’re sometimes encouraged to. Having coffee with us is like having coffee with The View. You know you want to hear what we have to say.
People want our attention — Publicists call and email us constantly. Restaurateurs want us in their bistros. Organizers want us at their events. We have access to a lot of things most people don’t.
Our talent is tangible — Like that of a fashion designer, a chef, or a movie director, what we do can be easily judged—and just as easily praised—by everyone. Not every person’s job is as on-the-line.
We vie for the attention of thousands, and get it — We’re happily narcissistic in that we think our work deserves your precious attention. We want you to Google our name.
People give us free stuff — Constant swag and free food.
Not just anyone can do what we do — We’re conversationalists. You think it’s easy to just talk to anyone? To get them to open up and share their secrets? It’s not. If you’ve ever been to a party where you don’t know a lot of people, you know this. We thrive in those conditions.
We’re damn good at what we do — It’s safe to say that if you get published in an actual publications, or legit website, you’re pretty good at what you do.
Weep for yourself, my man, You’ll never be what is in your heart Weep, little lion man, You’re not as brave as you were at the start Rate yourself and rake yourself Take all the courage you have left Wasted on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head
But it was not your fault but mine And it was your heart on the line I really fucked it up this time Didn’t I, my dear? Didn’t I, my dear?
Tremble for yourself, my man, You know that you have seen this all before Tremble, little lion man, You’ll never settle any of your scores Your grace is wasted in your face, Your boldness stands alone among the wreck Now learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck