My theory of editing is I was trained as
an archeologist. You document whatever comes up
out of the ground, and analyze it. Try to make sense
out of what it means. What does this mean in relation to that.
You account for the entire universe of discourse. You don't omit
a datum that doesn't fit. You don't move things around, to where
you think they ought to be. I was trained as a linguist. A free-diver.
Mistakes have consequences. We're not playing funsies here.
We're playing keepsies. Every so many shovel-leaner jobs a pencil-
leaner. The race is to the swift. Cream rises to the top. It has
more fat in it. It is the best of all possible worlds and I am Fortune's
favorite child. Chosen to write A WPA Guide to Northwest Florida.
Retards, loonies, recidivists. Narcs and prison screws. You pays your money
and you makes your choice. The War on Drugs or the War Against Poor People.
It's the same war. The same generals and private soldiers. The same mercenaries.
The same feathermerchants and ticketpunchers. Rising through the ranks as if by
magic. The same casting-couch. Who's the head cheerleader? Who's the Homecoming
Queen? Who's the starting quarterback? Who's the Homecoming King? Who's on
the high school annual? Who's on the Harvard Lampoon? Down and Out in Cambridge.
Up and Down in Point and Shoot. I'm still here, as John Hartford says, about
the earthquakes in California. Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.