Friday, September 22, 2006

The Wes Pruden Memo Translated

Today, Wes Pruden wrote a memo to his staff regarding all the hullabaloo that has arisen from the recent article in the Nation. We've filtered out Pruden's Timesian quasi-reality to let you know what he truly means.

Keep in mind, though, that this memo was addressed to his STAFF! And that he like, tells them that he's going to outlive them and shit. God, what a dickhead he must be to work for.

You may be interested to know that my annual contract has been "rolled over" for the 12th consecutive year. I am not going anywhere, nor is Fran Coombs.

"Anyone who thinks the Reverend Moon can't drag this out forever has obviously never attended one of his weddings."

Some of you may be surprised to learn that I am mortal, and one day I, too, will go the the great newsroom in the sky where there are no deadlines, no unreturned phone calls, and no editors to breathe down the necks of reporters on deadline.

You mean Hell is actually a cushier journalism job than the Times? Shit! I'd better start sodomizing something.

So, yes, one day I, too, will retire. But not yet.

Seems like some scare-quotes are warranted here. Maybe that guy had the day off.

I have been asked to serve on a search committee for my successor, at a date in the future when such a search will become necessary.
"So, yeah...expect those four resumes to get a GOOD picking over."

This will assure an orderly transition.
"As opposed to the weekly editorial bloodbaths some of you are used to."

I will tell you when this day comes (which may or may not be in your lifetimes).

"Fran lives on an exclusive diet of infant blood, and her breast milk has given me the power to live forever. CTHULHU BE PRAISED!"

The Internet makes fantasizing easy and tempting...

Cthulhu be praised.

...but you need not be concerned about church politics, the speculations of addled idle minds that would be more usefully employed at Alcoholics Anonymous...

Well, they can't all work for the Times.

...or whether Martin Walker, Howell Raines or even Max Blumenthal will suceed me. (Put your money on None of the Above.)
Uhm, I think the fact that Walker, Raines and Blumenthal can each successfully spell "succeed" automatically keeps them out of the running.

The owners of The Times are pleased with what we have built here on New York Avenue, a newspaper of worldwide consequence that the founders could never have imagined.
"To those who said not being able to complete a sentence and becoming a journalistic laughingstock, I say to you: Peanut Butter. Lipstick. Honeycunt."

They have told me so.
"Everynight before I go to sleep. I am the fairest of them all. Deal with it."

People who spread rumors and talk to rumormongers just have too much time on their hands, and should, in their retirement, get another hobby.
"And if you are interested in any of our open positions, you may fax a cover letter and resume to 202-526-6820, call us at 202-636-3327, or come to 3400 New York Ave. NE to fill out an application."

Macrame' is said to soothe.

"Read all about it in this weekend's Sunday Source!"

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Such a poor attempt. The writer must work for Huffington.

The Deceiver said...

Hi, Wes!