MAURO GIA SAMONTE
‘Tis no mean job, this racket called column writing. Readers invariably expect you to sound great, when deep inside you, you know you’re not. Unless you’ve gone so deep into your megalomaniac abyss out of which you can no longer be extricated. That’s great, aint it? Actually, it’s magic. Imagine churning out intellectual masterpieces in just an hour-or-less rehashing of choice items lifted from the daily grind called news.