John Schwartz, of the New York Times
John Schwartz is a hard boiled reporter who has worked at the New York Times for the past nineteen years. During that time he has seen it all -- the law of the land bent to serve malign purposes; the overarching and implacable march of technology; the insane renewal of the Space Race; the futility of warning the general populace about the coming cataclysm of global warming; and the craven toadying of book authors who would do anything short of honest work to get into his good graces. He even claims to have written humor columns, when he's in a good mood and the planets align.
By his own admission, he is one tough customer who doesn't allow the wool to be pulled over his eyes.
Except in the matter of cats.
As Shakespeare wrote: "A cat by any other name is still trouble." Mr. Schwartz subscribes to that philosophy whole-heartedly, and yet he and his family are part of the world wide conspiracy that continues to aid and abet domestic felines. He can give no rational explanation for his fondness for cats, except to hint at a congenital propensity to be taken in by mousers that has run in his family for generations.
He has tried to break the habit with wombats, iguanas, skinks, dingoes, and flying foxes -- but none of them, according to Mr. Schwartz, possess a tenth of the cunning and fascinating mutability of a cat.
Outside of this one disturbing foible, John Schwartz is considered to be a genuine humanitarian by his friends, family, and colleagues.
He is the author of half a dozen books, pamphlets, time tables, and telephone directories that have garnered him the position of Sub Adjunct with Woodmen of the World.
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