Parallel to this world is a world at right angles to that one, stacked on another like bread of a wish sandwich, wherein Walter Cronkite and Hunter Thompson never retired from the field in such idiosyncratic manners, no one has ever heard the phrase "It's only Fox News", and David Frost was never filtered into a retrospective popstar messiah with excellent lapels for an audience who can't seem to hold in their heads, simultaneously, that Frost is still a working, functional journalist.
The face of professional news is barely-restrained machismo and swish tactics spread across seventy television channels and increasingly parochial regurgitation of AP announcements, only on Tuesdays, and the alternative is not marxist struggle pamphlets for the perpetuation of the marxist struggle (success is death!) or crypto-capitalism in the form of fetish sites (success is death!) unto an infinity of authenticity brands.
Thomas Wolfe outlived Tom Wolfe, in this world, both men leaving behind glorious patrician-tastic bodies of literature.
This world also has aerodynamically sound and properly winged eight-legged horses, because... why the hell not.
Horatio Alger was unavailable for comment.
Ambrose Bierce was still in Mexico.
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