Abrahams | I’m right, you’re wrong: here’s why
Editor’s Note: This article is purely satirical and fictitious. All attributions in this article are not genuine and this story should be read in the context of pure entertainment only.
Thoughts, feelings, beliefs: everyone has them to some extent. However, very few have what I do: answers. This “few” and myself — known to the public as opinion writers — are the bastions of fact amongst a world of blinded sheep. The venn-diagram of the definitive truth and everything we think is a perfect circle. Honestly, I’m confused by the ever-too-frequent criticisms of op-eds — it’s like playing roulette in a black-and-white film and betting on red. You literally can’t win.
How do I do it, though? What’s the method to my madness? It’s actually simple: I say something that other people would consider “ridiculous.”
Easy, right? You’re probably feeling like an idiot for not thinking of it earlier. For once, you’re not off the mark. Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, though — I’m gonna hand-hold you through the steps so even you can’t mess it up.
The first step is, as my editor puts it, “having a premise for a piece.” In the biz, us opinion writers know that writing anything that someone else can agree with is a cardinal sin. We need to show the world that our minds are capable of creating beautiful, unique ideas that inspire shock, awe and frustration. For instance, which of these sounds better: the article titled “Doctors Save the World” or “It’s Time to Bring Back Polio”? Both of these are real articles, but only one embodies original creativity (while also offering accurate medical insight).
Whenever I have an idea, I think of going to a place no one else has. For example, people expected my involvement in a near-accident on Palm Drive to make me a traffic regulation advocate. Instead, it inspired my most famous article: “A Darwinian Alternative to the Driver’s License.” If I only talked about things other people thought about, I’d just be a parrot in a crowd of seagulls. So I see something, think, “What would no other ‘reasonable’ person say?” say it and then die on that hill.
Now, anyone can make a claim, but, as modern philosopher DJ Taj once asked, can you back it up? As an Opinion writer defending a point, I have two duties: 1) present my side of the argument and 2) look cool while doing it.
Here’s a little insider secret: the second part is much more important than the first. If my logic is shaky, I’m not worried. We’ve all decorated a slideshow to distract from the dumpster fire that we call “content.” Same goes for publishing logic-based arguments. You remember figurative language from middle school? I use it all the time — and I use it as densely as possible. My goal is to present myself as intelligent, because, in an argument, if someone says you’re intelligent, you have to be right. The contrapositive is also true (case in point: if you didn’t know what “contrapositive” means, you’re wrong and stupid). This equation of intelligence perception to argument correctness is the basis for academic discourse.
Wait, you think this is unethical? You think this is wrong? Well, too bad, baby! Opinion writers like me are in almost every newspaper. And while you may not like it, you still read it. Look at yourself now, googling why we need Polio back, shaking your fist at me. I’m sitting back laughing, knowing that I’ll never change my mind. Because, to me, I’ll always be right.
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