Crom’s Letter to the Editor of Cosmopolitan
Dear Madam,
While it is not entirely impossible that a man has written to your magazine before, I doubt quite seriously that is happens on a regular basis. The articles and content of your magazine being so obviously targeted at women in the early twenties to late forties, it begs the question, what could I, a 25 year old Male Canadian really have to say about Cosmo. With its stylish clothing layouts and the sizzling wit of Irma Kurtz how can you lose? The wisdom and etiquette for the perfect face ripped from the jaws of the universe by Leslie Pepper and the enticing sexual pleasures to make a man insane from your panel of “sex-perts” is so jam packed with useful tidbits and helpful suggestions that it is truly a wonder how you’ve managed to keep people from smashing their fellow woman in the face for the last copy.
The fountain of information that you hand out in each glorious issue month after month makes my own writing look much like the bowel movements of a foreign animal in your home. You hand out so much wisdom and grace to each person that picks up and flips the magazine that I wonder in my heart how peace on earth has failed to overcome the aggression and hate that still flows in the veins of people. The grace and elegance have finally answered in my mind the question that has gnawed at me time and time again until my eyes wanted to burst: How can you brainwash an entire nation of people into believing this kind of shit?
I must admit at first the answer eluded me, even though night after restless night I thumbed through the pages of Cosmo, desperately seeking the answers I crave to catapult myself into the position of Supreme ruler of the social world. How can I become the Kubla Kahn of the magazine rack, ruling the world whilst my rivals huddle in muddied corners wishing they had the elegance and grace that I so easily adorn like a cloak? And then I realized the answer, so simple, so acute. All I had to do was prey on the insecurities of the common people and I would have them eating from my hand. I mean half the people around here barely understand their own needs, so delivering to them a simple and easy way to analyze and label the behavior of others is like handing a hungry man a steak and potato and telling him” eat, EAT!” Why he’ll gobble up those morsels with such enthusiasm you’ll have to cough into your sleeve to keep them from noticing your mocking laughter! Win friends and influence them? BAH! Why you’ll have them watching the very manner in which they drink their sodas and then you can rationalize how they make love, how they do their work. He sleeps on his back? He’s into experimentation and openness. He clutches his pillow? A sensitive lover with the need to have his feelings reciprocated, never mind the fact that he accidentally walked into a turnstile today and stretching makes his ribs hurt like fire, that’s mere sophistry!
You can tell the women of the world what is fashionable and what is not, and cast scorn and embarrassment on those who do not, why you’re the head cheerleader and the world is your high school! I say bravo Cosmo, teach these whimpering lackeys a thing or two about who can manipulate whom. One day I too will ride the wave of popularity and everyone will rush to me asking me about how they should live their lives!
Hurray!
As Always, Defending the Faith,
- Crom’s Letter to the Editor of Cosmopolitan
- by Crom
- Published on February 1st, 2004
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…With a Fistful of Napalm®
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Large, and in Charge.
Obviously people do drugs in order to gain an edge, but I personally would rather hone an edge through blood and sweat. I’ve seen varied opinions about juice over the years, those that swear by it claiming that there are no ill effects to proper usage, those who curse its name, and those who’ve become lesser men and women for their transgressions. I’m going to set the record straight.
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