You know, a lot of people will tell you it’s impossible to be the best at everything. They’ll tell you, pick one thing and do it very well. Luckily, my one thing allows me to pretend like I actually am the best at everything: I bullshit. I am a bullshitter.
My 17 years of public education have taught me nothing better than how to stretch a story. I don’t think I’ve had legitimately more than eight to 10 things to say in my entire life, yet evil, mean-spirited people (“teachers,” to the layperson) keep having me write horrendously long papers and stories. You think I ever finish these length requirements and think to myself, “Man, I really had more to say!”? Of course I don’t. And thus, I have become the world’s foremost in filler. The ruler of rubbish. A ninja of nonsense. The baron of bullshit. The guy … that’s good … with words.
I know all the tricks. Hell, I invented half of this stuff. You think you’re the first person to ever increase the size of your fonts ? 12.1, 12.2 even? That was all me, brother.
Or like when you randomly break up your text with bulleted lists for no real reason besides wasting space?
– I did that before you.
– It’s effective.
I fill space by repeating the same terms over and over again, but saying them differently so you don’t realize it as your eyes glaze over a growing number of words that say nothing. Like, what I do is, I take something that I say. And then I say it in a different way. I recycle. Because I am green. What I do is, I make a sentence — and these sentences have words which I then restate. And before you know it, bam, I’ve said the same thing three times.
I need an extra line. Here it is.
I use a lot of superfluous adjectives that are completely flippant and unnessecary. Do I cognitively understand what a simple majority of these extraneous terms means? I don’t even understand regular words. But there they are in my story, and I’ll be damned if I’m hitting backspace.
I play with spacing between letters to the point where it just reflects poorly on whatever sad sack publication actually allows me to have some space. Of course it looks awful.
But what sets me apart from the rest of you is that I’ve got this stuff in my blood. I’m the Roger Federer of bullshitting. I’m the Tiger Woods. I’m the Jack Nicholson. I’m the Richard Petty. I’m the Jayson Bla … let’s end this paragraph.
You know I’m great because I bullshitted this column and you read the whole thing. That’s how good I am. I’m doing this right now. This stuff is happening in real time.
And as for all you imitators out there, try to get on my level. But just know that I am the champion, because my fingers just automatically go there. Like, if I need one more word to make 500, what comes next is simply natural.
Bullshit.
Rob Gindes is a senior journalism major. He can be reached at gindes at umdbk dot com.
