Fantasy Op-Ed Page

We live in Fantasyland. It’s not quite like I expected. Say “Fantasyland” to most people, and they think of dragons, wizards, and fairies. The truth is a little more mundane. Fantasy is all around us. But it’s not fantasy as in “bold knights of the realm battling giants to rescue fair maidens” kind of fantasy. It’s more of a “overweight sports nerds in their basement” kind of fantasy.

Yes, I’m talking about fantasy sports—baseball, football, basketball and even cricket for you freakish Anglophiles. You assemble bizarre teams that would never, ever work in real life (I’m sure Kobe won’t mind sharing the ball with Allen Iverson!) and then duke it out with other sports nerds. Recently, the fantasy craze has spread a little beyond sports. You can even do Fantasy Congress if you want. I’d give you the link, but I’m trying to maintain what little shred of coolness I have left.

Oh, who am I kidding? I’m going to blow that last shred to pieces with what I’m about to write. I was thinking: we have fantasy sports teams. We have fantasy congresses. What’s next? Fantasy sitcoms (Bill Cosby as Dad, Michael Richards as wacky neighbor)? Fantasy symphonies (Yo-Yo Ma on cello, Lang Lang on piano, Tsing-Tsing on…wait, that’s a panda)? Fantasy menus (steak from Ruth’s Chris, fries from Five Guys)?

I could go on forever. But I won’t. My time is too valuable, and yours isn’t cheap either. So here’s my idea: a fantasy editorial page. I got the idea from reading the op-eds in the New York Times. You would think that the NYT’s editorial page would be nothing but quality. After all, it’s the pinnacle to which all columnists aspire. You’d think that…but you’d be wrong. Dead, dead wrong. I’ve read better copy in my high school’s paper, The Raleigh Charter Semi-Monthly.

I exaggerate a little, but I do it to make a point. The NYT could do a lot better. But how could it do a lot better? If I could pick the perfect lineup of opinion writers, who would I choose? And why? And how would I pay them? I’ll ignore the last question. It’s moot. After all, in five years journalists will be working in return for a semi-daily supply of partly edible food.

First, I’d keep Paul Krugman. Every paper needs a Big Draw, and you can’t get much bigger than WINNING A NOBEL PRIZE. That’s how important it is—it deserves ALL CAPS. Winning a Nobel Prize is the literary equivalent of “God mode” in video games. You can say whatever stupid crap you want and get away with it. Krugman could write “I think we ought to replace paper money with small conch shells,” and people would agree, because HE WON A NOBEL PRIZE.

I’d also retain David Brooks, as the paper’s resident Ideas Man. He’s the kind of guy who can take new ideas in science, sociology and psychology and boil them down into simple terms. True, he boils away the actual “science” in the process. Brooks’s digests have all the scientific cachet of a 1950s “Weird Adventures in Space” magazine. But he’s readable, and that’s what matters in a paper. But be warned, David. I nearly dropped you in favor of your buddy Malcolm Gladwell. You’re on thin ice with me, boy.

An editorial board isn’t doing it’s job if it doesn’t tick people off. For that, it needs a Firebrand. I choose Matt Taibbi for the spot. Taibbi irritates nearly everybody. I, for instance, hate him for the way he mocked John Paul II. Other people hate him for his savage attacks on Thomas Friedman. Still others hate him because he lived in Uzbekistan. That’s a small minority, true, but the more haters the better. A newspaper thrives on controversy. Every angry old lady writing an editorial letter is money in the bank for a newspaper.

To balance the Firebrand requires an Elder Statesman. They should be old, sixty plus, conservative, and a bit cantankerous. They should complain about modern life a whole lot, even if it’s clear they don’t know what they’re talking about. They need to denounce Twitter and Facebook on a regular basis. Bonus points for mocking the music of today’s youth. I nominate George Will for the post. The man wears a bow tie! Honest to God! Oh yes, he’s also a good writer. But that bow tie!

In the middle, between the radical Firebrand and the reactionary Elder Statesman, sits the Voice of Reason. They should always seek compromise. They should never offend. If one side recommends nuking Moscow, and the other side suggests that this might be a bad idea, the Voice of Reason should split the difference: “We should only nuke half of Moscow, guys!” Michael Kinsley would be well suited for the position of Voice of Reason. He is scrupulously non-partisan. If you ask Michael Kinsely the time, he’ll call half a dozen friends, average the answer, and give you the result with the warning that, “Well, this is what some people think.”

You also need a Historian for perspective. Who better for this role than Niall Ferguson? He could put things in the long view. In fact, I would demand that all his columns contain at least one hilariously forced historical comparison. Go ahead, Niall, tell us how Barack Obama is like Louis XI. This would involve Niall whoring himself out for money, but he strikes me as the kind of historian who would do that.

And last and least, you need someone to take up the big blank spot you’ve got on Sundays, when your other writers take the day off to call each other and congratulate themselves for last week’s articles. Talent is not needed for this position. Quantity takes precedence over quality. Christopher Hitchens does a good job banging out prose. Every day he produces enough words to fill a small dictionary. It would be called “The Oxford Guide to Pretension in Literature, Volume 1.”

That’s the lineup. I would trust these six men—oops, sorry, female writers, I kind of forgot you guys—with my editorial page. Suggestions are encouraged. Good suggestions will be smiled upon; bad suggestions will be damned to hell.