Congratulations You Pompous Fucks!

Today all of you pompous fucks are going to give each other piggyback rides over how amazing the new Phillip Roth novel is.

“It’s exceptional,” so inane bitch who has made a living writing about other people’s art without ever producing a single significant or original work of her own will say while sipping overpriced red wine from south France, a recipe designed to be consumed within a few months, mass produced by peasants and stockpiled by the wealthy so that it could be sold to people who didn’t know any better at their earliest convenience.

“I find the manner in which it develops character to be beyond belief,” another pretentious asshole will say. This pretentious asshole will be a man who has lived ninety-percent of his life in New York, but writes primarily about works of art in a global context. He’ll regularly spend two to three-hundred percent of market value on clothing that is ostensibly “fair trade,” but is in fact made under crueler than average conditions by corporate magnates who have become incredibly adept at manipulating their own media image.

“I would the character development quite pedantic,” a pretentious asshole with a tiny penis will say.

“I’m not sure I agree,” a pretentious asshole will declare loudly after having one drink too many. This pretentious asshole will be a young woman in her mid thirties who has never actually paid her rent using funds she acquired from working and has never had a satisfying sexual experience.

“I thought it was kind of bad,” someone’s spouse will say. “Like, not really good at all.”

The entire part will turn and stare at them. “You’re certainly entitled to your opinion,” the crowd will say, “however ill-informed it is.”

Then they’ll go back to talking about how awesome Phillip Roth’s prose is while someone’s spouse fights with their mate outside. It will end poorly.

Congratulations Your Pompous Fucks!