A small excerpt from a recent Esquire magazine:

Let me tell you about spelling. I am a spelling fool. I can spell in the morning, I can spell in the evening, and I can spell in the (oh, Lord!) midnight hour. There are writers better than me, and there are reporters better than me, but there are very few people in this business who can spell with me. Don't bring your sorry no-diphthong-having, English-as-a-first-language, sad-sack, Tom Robbins-sounding, onomatopoeic, Hooked On Phonics ass in here. I got mad spelling game, no doubt.

In my house, we have a computer. This computer has a "spell check" device. It is to fucking laugh, this thing. This spell check device apparently was programmed by lemurs. In my house, I am the spell check. My word is the goddamn law.

How did I get to be the laughing master of man and machine? Four words: Sisters of Saint Joseph.

-Charles P. Pierce

note: this is a fair use quotation.

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