The SABEW conference offered us a rare glimpse into the workings of business journalists; specifically, into the mindset of the NY financial press - or at least select members of that rarefied group.
I have received any number of confused emails, asking me what I make of the transcript, and the ideas expressed therein.
After reading and considering carefully the attitude that was prevalent at the conference, I have seen the error of my ways - I am far too humble and sympathetic.
After much study of how the vocational members of the business press operate, I have decided to adopt a more "professional" demeanor, in keeping with my newfound enlightenment.
First, I will, from this point on, ignore any evidence I dislike. If I don't write about it, it doesn't exist. Second, I will adopt a tone that assumes that you are all incapable of making the most rudimentary of distinctions. Third, I will assume that my powerful intellect and genetic superiority far exceed anything that you may possess, and take great pains to dumb down my rhetoric in a condescending, pandering way that is impossible to miss. And finally, I will make private comments, and sometimes let things slip in public, that make it clear I despise you as pathetic, weak sheep - the message is loathing. You sicken me.
We can start now.
Given that I am a blogging savant, and you are all insects unfit to read my important work, I felt that pictures would be easier for you to grasp than words.
This is because I correctly assume that you are sitting in your double-wide, chain-smoking Newports and drinking generic beer, with Jerry Springer reruns your only break from a tediously empty life of collecting porcelain figurines depicting dancing yorkies, and entertaining morbidly obese friends whose stories about their adventures as Walmart greeters are mind-numbingly dull.
Given that you don't live in Manhattan (at least not in the desirable areas) or Connecticut, greeting cards are likely your idea of pithy wit and powerful journalism. I figured that there was no way you would comprehend my carefully crafted pieces, and see no reason to debase my gifts by wasting words on you, when pictures are likely the only medium you can process. Pearls before swine.
I feel dirty just tapping the keys, knowing you will read them.
But, as my lot in life is to craft little entertainments for you, I will debase my powerful talents in such a way as to get across my message in a manner that even you can comprehend - it's beneath me, but I shoulder my burdens with stoic fortitude.
So do try to keep up, dimwit.
And stop breathing through your mouth like that - it makes you even more repellent, if that is possible.
Here's your crummy cartoons. Now stop bothering me...
