Placeholder Text

This is placeholder text. It doesn’t actually say anything, so there is no point in reading it. Seriously, if you are reading this, you should just stop. There is absolutely no point in reading this at all, none whatsoever. Not a single word herein is substantive in any way. These are, essentially, non-words, filling, or rather, emptying this non-message into the ether, word after word of non-information taking up space, wasting valuable pixels, toner, and/or ink depending on what medium it’s been output. At some point, actual copy written by an actual copywriter will be here, where this non-copy currently resides, at which time studious attention will be welcome, encouraged even, nay demanded! But that will be then and not now. Now the correct thing to do is simply glance across this non-text and imagine that it says something terribly useful, whatever might be appropriate. For instance, if this is an ad for forbezider valves, you should imagine a concise and engrossing paragraph or two, or three, of pertinent and provocative forbezider valve information. This information will be so craftily written you, a mere mortal, will, very likely, be completely powerless to resist its siren call and will rush directly to the nearest forbezider valve retailer and purchase a gross, even if you have absolutely no use for forbezider valves, even if you don’t know what a forbezider valve is or what sort of things it’s responsible for valving. Gosh, that will be fine when that happens. But for now just pretend this is the actual, legitimate copy. Don’t read it. This vapid, hollow, substanceless copy that just drones on and on without regard for the burden it is placing on you, gentle reader, is, to be sure, a poor substitute for the glorious language to come. It almost seems criminal to allow such frivolous nattering to inform even a single sentence, much less a great, sprawling paragraph that defies intelligibility with its hugeness and gratuitous lack of page breaks. Surely, if an appropriate body of enforcement existed, a “Grammar Gestapo” if you will, they would apprehend this egregious block and throw it in the literary brig with no hope of parole. And there it would rot, never again to harm the unsuspecting eye, out for a read where it assumed it would be, and jolly-well should have been, safe from this sort of injurious screed. Surely you’ve stopped reading by now. Haven’t you? Why? Look, with great emphasis, I told you to stop reading in the first few sentences, but you kept on. Didn’t you? Over and over I warned you, tried to protect you, but you’ve ignored me. Well, that’s just great. Very well, you have brought this on yourself. Are you happy now? Hmm? Are you? Children in third world countries have to walk bare-footed for miles over uneven road surfaces, many of which are not even paved properly, just for a glimpse of a 2-color pamphlet on VCR repair with hideous registration and hickies all over it because it was printed on a faulty ABDick with the rollers practically falling out of it on a day when the press operator wasn’t feeling very well at all and the inks were poorly mixed and the T-Head was completely out of whack, and here you are engrossed in something that doesn’t have any substance or message at all. It’s an outrage! You should be ashamed of yourself! I demand that you stop reading right now! I mean it. Absolutely stop right this very minute. Do not read one more word. You’re still reading, aren’t you. I knew it. You make me sad. I weep. No, don’t try to console me. No. I know you don’t mean it. You always do this. My mother told me you were no good. If only I had listened… Blast you. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop loving you. You beast.


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