Monday, January 09, 2006

If you don't have anything nice to say ...

JT Leroy is a tiny, emaciated fake!

Freaking fascinating and yet another example of how asinine, gullible, naive and mindless most members of the media are. I mean, what, his lack of an Adam's apple didn't clue you in to the fact that he was a she? Unbelievable. Further evidence that the NYT is overrated and not to be trusted, as, according to the above-linked article, if there had there been factcheckers on the prior travel story written by "JT Leroy," they would have probably unearthed the myriad discrepancies in this person's identity. In light of Jayson Blair, it's simply incredible that each and every one of the stories in the NYT are not thoroughly vetted. There have probably been many Jayson Blairs over the years who have flown under the vaunted Gray Lady's radar.

This is what a lot of non-media people, who worship the NYT as if it were the printed, reincarnated version of Jesus Christ, do not realize: Most of what is written about in newspapers and many other publications is, technically, unverified. And, ironically, it is the scandal sheets that have better, more libel-proof fact-checking devices in place. It's virtually impossible to check facts when are you are working on daily deadlines at newspapers. It's easier, and more commonplace, to check facts for weekly or monthly publications. So, even though I am legally prohibited from writing about my experience working for Star magazine as a researcher, let it be said that tabloids have teams of people dedicated to fact-checking pursuits, whereas the NYT doesn't employ full-time researchers/fact-checkers.

And, on a completely unrelated tangent, seriously, if you don't have anything nice to say, shut the hell up. Some anonymous fuckwad posted an incredibly vicious comment about me on someone else's site. The fact that he/she posted it on someone else's blog and not here, shows me that he/she doesn't even have the guts to insult me directly. And the vitriol with which he/she writes, leads me to think that he/she must actually know me and have some kind of personal animus towards me. Thus, it follows that:

He/she is an ex/spurned boyfriend or date with an incredibly small penis.

He/she is an ex-friend/frenemy with a major inferiority complex.

He/she is some weird, pathetic, unhappy ex-coworker of mine who harbors some resentment toward me for some reason I cannot, nor care to, imagine.

He/she is a member of the media, a notoriously snarky, jealous, resentful bunch.

He/she is a bitchy gay guy, as no hetero man writes in CAPS for emphasis, as far as I can tell.

He/she is a foreigner, for the word he/she uses doesn't exist in the English language.

I don't know why people think that I am fake. Furthermore, I don't know why it bothers me. Apparently, JT Leroy and James Frey are phonies, and they both have bestsellers. So perhaps it would behoove me to be fake. OK, you got me, I am fake. This is being written by a robot with a fabulous wardrobe and manicured nails. And, this retard accuses me not only of being fictional, but of lying about my age. I am Jewish, therefore, if I were lying about my age, I would not be 30, you moron. If I were lying about my age, I would shave off a couple of years, at least. My deceased grandmother turned 49 like five years in a row. I learned all the really profound life lessons early on.

Again, I am wasting too much time here. I have an interview tomorrow. Or, rather, "Stephanie Green" has an interview tomorrow. I'm sure the interviewers will be quite surprised when nothing/nobody shows up, because I do not exist.

People are so insane. Between Mr. Devil's stalker and these nasty, pitiable commenters, I'm just going to stop reading other people's blogs and comments. Thanks to all the positive commenters though, you guys are fab.