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Ghost-Writer In The Machine

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Hillary Clinton Holds Infant Grandson Upside Down By Ankle In Front Of Convention Crowd

‘Family,’ Candidate Says

PHILADELPHIA—Seeking to make her case to the nation’s voters as she accepted her party’s presidential nomination Thursday night, Hillary Clinton reportedly began her headlining address at the Democratic National Convention by holding her infant grandson, Aidan, upside down by his ankle and firmly intoning the word “Family” in front of the assembled crowd.

Hillary Clinton Waiting In Wings Of Stage Since 6 A.M. For DNC Speech

PHILADELPHIA—Saying she arrived hours before any of the members of the production crew, sources confirmed Thursday that presidential nominee Hillary Clinton has been waiting in the wings of the Wells Fargo Center stage since six o’clock this morning to deliver her speech at the Democratic National Convention.

Depressed, Butter-Covered Tom Vilsack Enters Sixth Day Of Corn Bender After Losing VP Spot

WASHINGTON—Saying she has grown increasingly concerned about her husband’s mental and physical well-being since last Friday, Christie Vilsack, the wife of Agriculture Secretary Tom Vilsack, told reporters Thursday that the despondent, butter-covered cabinet member has entered the sixth day of a destructive corn bender after being passed over for the Democratic vice presidential spot.

Superfoods: Myth Vs. Fact

Though the media often heralds certain foods as cancer-fighting or immune-building, many of these claims don’t hold up to scientific scrutiny. The Onion separates the myths from the facts regarding so-called superfoods

Cannon Overshoots Tim Kaine Across Wells Fargo Center

PHILADELPHIA—Noting that the vice presidential nominee had been launched nearly 100 feet into the air during his entrance into the Democratic National Convention Wednesday night, sources reported that the cannon at the back of the Wells Fargo Center had accidentally overshot Tim Kaine across the arena, sending him crashing to the stage several dozen feet beyond the erected safety net.
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Ghost-Writer In The Machine

This morning, I awoke to find my ingrate son M. Prescott prodding my rib-cage with his gold-tipped walking stick. He wanted an old "Message" of mine from the era of the Second World War to commemorate the end of the century. But when asked to recall an appropriate column, I was at a loss. The heart-less whelp pronounced it senility, but I must now admit some-thing I've never made public before: A lot of the "Messages" I wrote throughout the century weren't actually by me. For nearly 20 years, from 1934 to 1953, I used a ghost-writer.

Yes, yes, I know that means I'm not the world's longest-running news-paper columnist. That honor belongs to one of those twin lady advice-columnists with the concrete hair. But why should I have to write a column day in, day out? Dammit, I had other fish to fry and more important goals than keeping you low-lifes amused. Feeling that my true talents were cramped by the briefness of my columns, I wanted to pen long, ambitious books of history, biography and political commentary, and that's what I did. Those schooled in American letters will recall my classic work Cram All The Immigrants You Can Find Into A Giant Cannon, Aim The Cannon Toward Europe, And Light It, and, of course, my best-seller The Boil On My Bottom Is Now As Big As A Hen's Egg.

My ghost-writer was none other than my long-time secretary, Mildred. This may seem odd to you, as I stead-fastly oppose the participation of women in the news-paper trade. But I also knew you could pay women tiny wages and get away with it.

At first, Mildred was quite good. She could uncannily mimic my writing-style, and no-one was the wiser. But sometime in the late '40s, she discovered that my column could be used as an instrument for political and social change. Soon, she was writing about giving the Negroes more rights, increasing the wages of migrant workers, and harnessing the atom for peace. In fact, "Message" won the Pulitzer for Distinguished Commentary in 1948.

It took me a while to notice this shocking abuse of my name, but the moment I did, I fired Mildred and once again under-took the writing duties. Never-the-less, it took me years to restore my reputation. It just goes to show, you can't trust any-body.

Incidentally, I'm not returning the Pulitzer. I'm also not giving back the Grammy I won in 1958 for my phonograph album, Zweibel Sings!, on which my voice was dubbed by Mario Lanza.

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