Write for me, you lazy idle little schemer. Write something with balls. Put us all into it and damn its soul. Write it all out and damn it, we won’t but admire you for it. Write something for me, something to bite me. Slice us up with it. Can you make us nervous? You can do it. I can see it in you, lazy idle loafer, I see it in your face. Blow a gale through us, use all the talents, literature, the press, the law, the classics. Advertise it and make it sing. Give it a fresh of breath air. Leave the gate open and let us in, let us all inside you. We will be bold and unheeding and we will stare. We want you. It will be the smartest piece of inspiration of genius. Give it to us on a hot plate. Bulldoze us with it. you are an idler of course, a born idler, a lazy idle little schemer. I see schemer in your face. But I want you to write something with bite, with balls. I want you to make us like the immortals, and may you never die till we shoot you. And I want you to tell anybody who calls to go to hell. Lazy eyed schemer.