Well, they asked for this.
I mean, someone’s going to have to do some work here. This sort of thing needs to be regulated. People have to be held accountable.
So here I am. What to do now. Everything just turns into a great big mess the second I cry foul. Can’t speak up for the public if you can’t speak up for yourself and the public ain’t speaking up for you and your livelihood.
So I’m stuck here, reading The Economist with all the rest. Just taking it all in. Wondering what the hell the copy editors were doing when they let that dangling modifier get through on page 13.
That’s why I’ve been sent—’cause someone’s got have a sense of ethics. There’s gold here, I tell ya.
Safe behind my tough exterior I flip open my notepad and wonder what to write, staring out at nothing as if there ought to be a mistake in there somewhere.