A satirist changes his ways
By Matt Wilson
Student Columnist

Ladies and gentlemen, I have seen the error of my ways. And on the advice of Joseph Bennett (“Focus on material wealth is harmful,” Sept. 27) I have decided to become a real journalist. It’s true. I went to a conference last week called “Stop Being so Darned Imaginary!” (but of course, Mommy and Daddy paid all the expenses) and now, my friends, I am real. Here’s what I learned at the conference about being real, journalism and how shameful I should be for not having had a lobotomy several years ago.
Rule One: Never, by any means, be funny.

Nobody likes a comedian. And everyone knows that humor is the result of exaggeration. This is what makes it so very, very wrong. Therefore, no one, and I mean no one, who writes columns should ever exaggerate anything. In journalism class, in fact, the first thing anyone learns is the commandment, “Thou shalt not make things hilariously disproportionate.” I mean, we all know that Dave Barry’s column is the work of Satan himself. No one likes him. Just like no one likes Bill Cosby, Steve Martin or the demonic creature known as Jerry Seinfeld. Think about it, political cartoons are kind of like a picture version of a column, and have you ever seen a funny or exaggerated one of those? I didn’t think so.

Rule Two: Be strikingly blatant about everything.
Subtlety is the antithesis of everything that an editorial writer should be. If you have an opinion (and I’ll discuss that rule next), make sure that you always express it and expound upon it in the plainest, most dumbed-down language possible. A sub-rule to this one is “Never be witty” (It would be “Never be clever,” but that would rhyme, and therefore be seminally, I mean “kind of,” clever). Instead of being subtly cutting by using wit and sarcasm to get your point across, talk about how things are “truly sad statements” or call the person you’re criticizing childish names. When one uses wit, the reader has to think. And no one wants that. So, if you’re writing a column about the absurdity of class divisions, just say “Let me tell you about the absurdity of class divisions” rather than writing a clever, intelligent satire of the situation.
Rule Three: Opinions are bad.

The opinion pages are no place for opinions. Journalists should be impartial and unbiased. Enough said.

Rule Four: Be deathly serious about everything.
Take everything you read, hear, or see to be exactly as it is: as serious as a heart attack. For example, a good idea for a first column would be to criticize the Mel Brooks movie Young Frankenstein for being nothing like Mary Shelley’s book, and point out how the scene where Dr. Frankenstein and the monster dance is “the saddest thing you’ve seen since watching movies.” And make sure you let 20th Century Fox know how much you are ashamed that they would stoop so low as to distribute such a movie.
Rule Five: Attack, attack, attack.

This rule’s pretty easy to follow. Latch yourself onto another columnist who is either subtle or witty (preferably both) and go right at him or her. That’s what professionalism is all about. Start all your writings with the impression that you’ll actually have a point, then start referring to the columnist as “Mr.” and make all the personal attacks you can fit into 500 to 1000 words. Nothing gets respect or readership like that.

There were many other rules, like “Never be creative” and “Make 58 percent of your column quotes to make it look, like, really long,” but these stuck out in my mind most. Thank you, “Stop Being So Darned Imaginary!” And thank you, Bennett.

I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll never eat Play-Doh again.