Warning: This item contains uncharacteristic doses of sincerity.
Sadly, today is the last day of publishing for the irreverent Black Table. If you're unaware of why this is significant, a primer: In January of 2003, a group of talented writers — frustrated with their day jobs and the impenetrability of writing gigs — got strangely motivated and started a website to showcase bold, hilarious, and insightful writing. Since then, the Black Table been updated nearly every day and served as a platform for emerging writers willing to embrace the site's spirit and often filthy, fuck-you attitude. The Black Table eventually grew so bad-ass and full of fury, even James Frey was compelled to write for them.
For many, the Black Table was the first or only place their writing was ever published; over 200 writers contributed to the site and never once made a dime. And while Samuel Johnson rightly said that "no man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money," Black Table editors and writers were persistent blockheads, just for the sake of putting funny and original shit out there. If nothing else, that merits one of the most earnest pieces we've ever written. Thanks for making us feel all itchy, guys.