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When it was in vogue to be a published author, a mini-industry sprang up whose sole purpose was to print limited runs of book by authors so dreadful that their work would never be touched by serious publishers. Because their purpose was to gratify the ego-whims of these dire authors, they became known as vanity presses. The Web is the ultimate iteration of the vanity press. Acres of ego-soothing pap can be churned out by anyone who has access to a PC, and regardless of quality, merit or anything else, it is available to the whole world. Here's my contribution to the noise that's masking your signal.
I couldn't resist this pic... apparently I'm a Danger Girl villain. And an evil little man, which probably suits down to the ground when I'm not being type-cast as something else. Heh.
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