TBogg

Moses Whine

We (that would be either the royal plural ‘we’ or the multiple personalities ‘we’) noticed that Roger Simon, the be-hatted novelist/screenwriter turned be-hatted Presidential loafer-humper is in the midst of putting the final touches on his coming of age memoir in which he recounts his metamorphosis from youthful idealist to 9/11-changed-everything worrywart and mainstream media loather. Roger writes:

When my agents were circulating the proposal for the book I’m writing – which is in part about my political migration – one rather famous editor at a big publishing house rejected it by saying “I don’t understand why he changed.” I’ve been at the lit game for too many years to take these things personally, but that was a head scratcher since my reasons filled about half my twenty-page proposal. Had she read it? (Well, maybe she hadn’t.)

An alternative explanation is that she had read it but the words made no impact. Bad writing? Again, possible (although several other publishers were interested and one ultimately bought it). In any case, this particular rejection had gone the way of myriad similar events in my life, into deep memory, only to surface again yesterday when I was trying to calm myself down about two news events, both related to a woman named Boxer.

We will assume that Roger will devote about six chapters reminding us he was involved with the Civil Rights movement, one chapter about his Academy Award nomination, four chapters about Rathergate, three chapters about what a swell guy Hugh Hewitt is despite his personal hygiene issues, and a few paragraphs about how the Democtratic party left him and not vice versa, which turned out to be good career move for both parties. Unfortunately, as Roger indicated, he’s got his hands full explaining his change of philosophical heart (also known as succumbing to the blandishments of the bland) so, we thought it would be downright neighborly if we all pitched in and came up with a title for what is currently called: Roger Simon’s Work In Progress That Is Not A Blog.

That’s right, it’s another contest, just like the one a year and a half ago when we named Clarence Thomas’ book: The Founder’s Intent, Natural Law, and Why I Like Big Butts.

Just submit your title here with Simon in the subject line by Friday 1/28 and next weekend a panel comprised of me, will select the best one to be passed on to Mr. Simon. The winner will receive a copy of James Wolcott’s Attack Poodles and Other Media Mutants personally autographed by me (Hell, I’ll even sign his name if you want me to…I’m not proud). So put on your fedoras and get to cracking. And remember, there are no losers, only people whose best just isn’t good enough.

At least that’s what I used to tell the Little League team I coached when the little bastards blew a big lead.

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