Monster

Everybody, which is to say, most of you people, the ones I’m talking about, anyway, you stink. You’re lousy. You’re animals, educated animals, and some of you, let’s be honest here, are not that educated. Oh you think you are, you certainly wish that you were — actually that’s not true, what you wish is that other people would think of you as artistically educated, as having a certain flair, as being slightly dangerous and disreputable to know while still being the kind of person who gets invited to… (fuck it, you want to be Oscar Wilde, is what I’m trying to say) — but educated is at least technically achievable.

Now what? You don’t like the hyphens, the parentheses? What, you want footnotes? You want me scattering little numbers all over the place? Christ you people are tight arsed. You think that would make it more daring? More avant-garde? Get over it; we did, about 30 years ago. No-one thinks its clever to write like that anymore, have you actually read a book in the last quarter century that wasn’t pushed in front of you by Richard and fucking Judy? Make your piece with it. No footnotes. You want footnotes, go finish your PhD.

So, being overeducated is technically achievable but way out there in terms of likelihood. You’re not going to do the work now, let’s face it, you didn’t do the work while your brain was loose and lithe and now it’s shrivelling faster than a sponge in the desert, you think you’re going to mop up all that Greek and Latin? You’ve barely read Shakespeare, who are you kidding?