This column is huge. Believe me.


I write the best columns. Nobody writes better columns than I do. They’re huge; they’re beautiful; everybody loves my columns. Believe me.

Other columnists are weak and soft. Crooked Leonard Pitts, lyin’ George Will, little Dana Milbank, they’re a disaster, OK? But my columns are strong, OK? They are the greatest columns anybody has ever seen, right? I don’t know if that’s true, but other people are saying that. Lots of people; all kinds of people. A lot of people say my columns are the best ever. Thousands and thousands of people – like all those Muslims who were celebrating on 9/11 in New Jersey – say my columns are great. I’m just telling you what other people are saying. They know, they know that my columns are huge and beautiful.

The critics … the critics say my columns are weak and small, just like my hands. But they’re not the best people; they bring drugs and they’re rapists. Some of them, I’m sure, are good people, but they are part of a corrupt system.

Let’s face it, the system is rigged. You know that it’s rigged. And when I write a column that says it’s rigged they complain. This one woman, she complained once, but she is a dog and a loser; no better than a 7 at most. You wouldn’t believe her face, very, very unattractive, so she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

But my columns have the most readers of all time, more than you can imagine. This one will probably be the greatest thing people have ever read; mark my words, it’s going to have more readers than any column ever written.

My columns are so great, they’re so huge, because I know a good idea when I see one. The Tampa Bay Times published a letter to the editor recently from Terry Vaught of Dover, Fla., that declared: “I write fabulous letters. If you read all the letters I have written, you would agree. You would love them. Other letter writers are weak, soft, and out of touch. I’m not like that, and I’m sure if you’re reading this, you aren’t either. This paper really needs great letters, and I am awesome at letter writing.”

That’s a clever approach for satire, but Vaught is low energy. Very low energy. So I had to steal his idea. I write high-energy columns because my brain is so huge and my ideas are so brilliant and I’m so smart. I went to a good university, so you know that I’m a great writer and I write columns, not letters. And people love my columns. They love them. Trust me. I would be a columnist at The Washington Post, but the system is rigged.

They’re stupid, OK?

Sometimes, most every year, I win awards for my columns. This one year I didn’t win because the judge was Hispanic and he was unqualified to judge me. What does he know? At least I heard he was Hispanic; I don’t know, I’m just telling you what other people are saying. If I built a wall – and I build beautiful walls, very inexpensive, beautiful walls – then we wouldn’t have newspaper judges like that.

Another year I didn’t win an award because I think the judge was really a Muslim born in Kenya. I didn’t see his birth certificate because he was hiding something. How can you trust somebody like that?

My columns are so huge because they’re real, just like my hair. And they are so beloved that I get asked to give speeches sometimes. Big speeches, to maybe millions of people. They fill the meeting room. Sometimes people don’t like what I wrote so they protest, but I say, “Get them out of here! You’re gone! Punch them in the face!” That’s why people love me. Because I know how to get things done.

And I’m the only columnist who can get things done. Other columnists talk to experts and study issues or do interviews, but I watch the shows. I watch CNN and Fox, so I don’t need to talk to experts. I don’t need advice on how to write better columns. My columns are already beautiful.

Other columnists should do it like this, but they are weak and they’re stupid, OK? If they did it like me, we could make columns great again.

Greg Jayne is the opinion editor of The (Vancouver, Wash.) Columbian. Reach him at