Goodness nyt

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Read the Review. Since I started out as a writer many years ago, I have built a reputation as an acerbic, mean-spirited observer of the human condition. Although the particular arc of my career has brought me a certain celebrity and a measure of wealth, it has not made me a happy person. True, some of my peers generously regard me as a curmudgeon, a gadfly, a well-meaning mad hatter, but in my heart of hearts I know otherwise. My chronic nastiness and obdurate refusal to look on the bright side of things goes far beyond garden-variety misanthropy. In a very real sense, I am a complete and utter bastard.

Goodness nyt

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Though he found that "mean-spiritedness permeated the pieces like a fog, like some kind of untraceable mephitic stench," he was disappointed that he could not find "specific insults directed at specific individuals whom you clearly intended to make feel goodness nyt.

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Goodness nyt

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Over the years, I had written many acerbic stories about crooked stock promoters, New Age charlatans, cretinous movie stars, dim-witted politicians, uncharismatic cannibals, and John Tesh. I had, in fact, bought one Previa van, fully equipped, and had put the rest into blue-chip stocks trading at reasonably low multiples, plus a few small-cap cyclicals. In my heart of hearts, I knew that much of what I was doing here was rationalizing. Even though I was sincere in my intention to become a better person, there nevertheless lay a sediment of putrescent bile at the core of my very personality. To do so, I would have to review every sentence in every story I had ever written and tabulate my offenses. One of my friends said she was too busy to review the material, so she got her assistant to do it. Some people sent pages and pages of notes and even footnotes. Compiling this data was not going to be easy. Remarking to my wife, "Where's Lee Harvey Oswald when you really need him? Since I started out as a writer many years ago, I have built a reputation as an acerbic, mean-spirited observer of the human condition. Looking for today's solution? Since I am not a good typist, hunting and pecking out perhaps thirty words a minute, this meant that I had spent 48, minutes--or hours, or twenty complete working weeks--doing nothing but being vicious. Typically, I was among the last.

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True, some of my peers generously regard me as a curmudgeon, a gadfly, a well-meaning mad hatter, but in my heart of hearts I know otherwise. Piggybacking off the monumental success of daily puzzle game Wordle , the New York Times has another fantastically popular word game out now. On your fourth mistake, the game is over and the answer is revealed automatically. Or let's just say that most of them had been used in the construction of a nasty sentence, phrase, paragraph, or chapter. Frankly, I wasn't going to bet the house on it. Read the Review. Finally, there were the fussbudgets. And I was dog-tired of being a shriveled-up old prune. To do so, I would have to review every sentence in every story I had ever written and tabulate my offenses. Most meticulous of all was Doug Colligan, a friend who works at Reader's Digest , but who is probably best remembered for his eccentric, catatonic interpretation of Dr. Over the years, I had written many acerbic stories about crooked stock promoters, New Age charlatans, cretinous movie stars, dim-witted politicians, uncharismatic cannibals, and John Tesh. How many had been demonstrably unfair?