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August 24-August 30, 1998 Taste the vengeance. All those times you got sand kicked in your face. All those times you sat at the back of the dance club and watched some Fabio wannabe scam the gal of your dreams. Think revenge, folks. Think cold, yummy, delectable revenge.
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Stupid Truth.... There hasn't been this kind of upheaval in Beantown since John Adams leaned over stoically to Paul Revere, bared his yellow teeth, and whispered, "I've always loved you, my man. I'll always think about your naked ass between my fingers." Okay, maybe that's not exactly how it happened. But you get the point, right? It seems the Boston Globe does. What is it about the New England air that makes journalists turn into fiction writers? Recently, as most know, Globe uber-columnist Mike Barnicle got nailed for stealing from George Carlin's book in one column (isn't reading Carlin an egregious enough offense?), and then for making up a story about multiracial cancer patients in another. Another, less well-known case involved Patricia Smith, another Globe reporter, who was forced to resign last June after it was discovered some of her "journalism" featured quotes from street people who didn't actually exist. Smith, also known as "one of the country's best-known 'slam' poets," is really really angry about getting fired, as evidenced by her recent reading in an Austin, Texas, bookstore. According to the Globe, one of Smith's fans said: "I don't see anything wrong with (using) composite characters, really.... I guess that's what put her in harm's way. Performance poetry was a hazard to the journalistic profession." Yup, that's it. Smith and Barnicle. Kept down by The Man. |
8.23.98
