By Silence Doless
By Silence Doless
staff writer
Well, it’s happened. I’ve finally decided to forego creating new material this week, and instead respond to letters from you, the readers. Unfortunately, I haven’t received any letters to respond to, so I will be forced to make them up. Here’s one from little Lucy Palmer of Columbus, Ohio:
Dear Silence Doless,
Why am I writing this letter? Was it really necessary to create fictional characters to fill up your humor column? Personally, I think it’s downright unethical. Don’t you have to follow some journalistic moral code or something? You should be ashamed of yourself.
Sincerely,
little Lucy Palmer
P.S. How did you imagine “The Chronicle” getting all the way to Ohio?
Well Lucy, first off I’m a humor columnist, not a journalist, which basically frees me from any moral obligation whatsoever. I can pretty much make up anything I want to and get away with it. I don’t have to pay taxes, for example. As long as it falls under the category of satire, essentially meaning, “making fun of people,” it’s fine. For another example, if I was a regular feature writer I couldn’t be having this conversation with you (at least not on paper). While that would be wonderful (that’s satire), I also couldn’t insult University President Stuart Rabinowitz on a regular basis, which more than makes up for the drawbacks. As for if I find it necessary to have fictional people write me letters, the short answer is yes (as is the long answer). I’m going to write a letters column by God, and nobody, pretend or otherwise, is going to stop me. Oh, and The Chronicle gets to Ohio via stork. Has anyone even seen a stork in real life? Exactly, they’re all busting their asses in my imagination delivering Chronicles to Ohio. Next letter!
Dear Silence Doless,
This is President Stuart Rabinowitz, and it is my distinct pleasure of saying that your humor columns are disgraceful and slanderous. Never in my life have I read such rude and derogatory rubbish. You think I’m not “hip” to what goes on at this university? Did you honestly think you could just insult me right under my very nose? Think again Doless. It is high time you paid for your crimes. Not with a duel or even jail, but with money. That’s right, I’m raising your tuition. In fact, I might as well raise tuition for the entire school while I’m at it. Mwahaha, with the money I’ll buy a medical school! How do you like them apples Columbia?
Ah Rabinowitz, my old arch nemesis. The tighter you squeeze, the more students will slip through your fingers. The more you raise tuition, less and less people will be able to afford Hofstra until one day the only people who can are spoiled Long Island kids. Great Rabinowitz, I really want some Ugg-wearing snob with a hangover and a fake orange tan operating on my spine. Seriously, the only other people who will go are sick people who still think it’s the Nassau Community Hospital. Okay, we have time for one more letter.
Dear Silence Doless,
My name is Fred Doogleberry from Columbus, Ohio. Get these storks out of my house. I don’t want your paper, I don’t care about Long Island; get these birds off my patio, out of my chimney, and away from my kids! I’m also suing you for $3,000 for damages. My sofa is torn to shreds and the varmints keep crapping on my wife. I want them out immediately.
Sincerely,
Fred.
I would love to help you out, but solving your imaginary problem would involve creating some sort of new material, which I decided I wouldn’t at the beginning of this column. Goodnight.
The Mysterious and outlaw-ish Silence Doless (Andy McCarthy)