Stephen King once bragged that he could get his laundry list published, if he wanted to–a singularly insensitive comment, given the heartache of so many struggling authors who can’t get published at all.
But the fact of the matter is that a lot of cow-flop does get published.
This is fantastically frustrating to those who are still trying. We rack our brains over it: how does litter-ature like this wind up in print, and why in the world does anybody buy it?
Well, that’s what we’ve done to our culture, isn’t it?