Marc Munroe Dion
Up in Canada (where I understand they keep beavers as house pets) a woman named Pamela McColl has caused to be published a vile, stinking travesty of an American classic.
McColl paid for her book to be published, which is what you do when your book stinks so much that no one will publish it and pay you.
What’s McColl done? I shudder.
She re-wrote Clement Moore’s "Twas The Night Before Christmas" and, in so doing, has removed the lines, "The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth. And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath."
The poem’s a classic, that rarest of literary reindeers, an enduring piece of writing but, in 2012 Canada (and she’s brought this lousy book to America, too), we don’t give a damn for classics. What we give a damn for is the endless self-aggrandizement of self-published literary losers whose "talent" doesn’t stretch beyond butchering someone else’s work.