- Jorge George
That’s a good question Jorge George – and by the way, I am just going to assume for the purposes of rhetorical exploration that’s your real name and that your parents have a devilish sense of humor. Props to them for taking an otherwise unremarkable last name and making it fun. Anyway, to answer your question, it would be preposterous of me to maintain that all of the questions addressed in this column are real – yours included.
So there you have it. I am busted. You have exposed me as a fraud and a charlatan – and while I’m killing trees with needlessly arcane terms, let’s throw rake in there as well. It’s one of my favorites – as are debauchee and libertine. I am all of that shit. You can’t … you shouldn’t … trust me at all. In fact, I am not even a real doctor – of love, luv, or anything else. I can’t even write you a prescription, although I am probably willing to enjoy yours on a recreational basis.
What I am, Jorge George, is a slightly overeducated paperboy, a failed musician, a horrible sketch artist, a psychotically unfocused, needlessly florid writer, and of course, as you suspected, a con man (although I would appreciate it if you would keep that last one to yourself because the bosses here haven’t caught on yet).
Not that scary at all, is it Jorge George? OK, maybe the prescription deal, but bottom line is that the scariest thing I am going to expose you to here is some new ideas – or maybe just some really old ideas with a fresh coat of lipstick. Does it matter that the genesis of those ideas is authentic? Does the New Testament lose all relevance and worth if Jesus didn’t actually exist? Here’s my questionable advice: Some people get so obsessed with authenticity they fail to see the truth. Those people are the real chumps Jorge George. I choose to believe you’re not one of them.