Simply put, he was an artist, no one thought of him otherwise.

That was the sentence. Look at it again. Tell you what, I'll print it again. Simply put, he was an artist, no one thought of him otherwise. Okay, hold on, whoa Nellie, what's going on here? First of all, I know, the sentence should have been in quotes, or, better yet, italics to separate it and draw attention to it. But that's not the issue here. I mean if you're worried about italics, then you're probably the type that would have put a colon after "print it again." The issue here is commas. That's right: commas.

I mean Don was a formalist, he cared about language. He cared about letters and symbols and rules more than meaning or moral. That's why he was hit so hard by the big comma fiasco. Editor Rachel Hed-it-M"organ wasn't going to let it fly. "No one thought of him..." was a new clause with a new subject and needed to be distinguished by a period or semicolon, or god, something.

Remember, I said, "he cares." That's why his mother was the first one to be called. She had several degrees and besides, he loved and respected her immensely. She said just to make them leave the comma, but to do "simply put he was an artist" without Don's first comma. Don couldn't think of that comma. He couldn't concentrate on it - was it intentional, was it consistent? It was a different issue. It was not the issue.

A stylebook was read, seminars were attended, friends at dictionary companies were phoned, and one week later Don hadn't made an inch of progress. He had learned great and grave things about the world as viewed through that tiny peephole we call language, but the comma issue had become a comma conspiracy, and tension was building. It seemed to be the dawn of a comma explosion. This could really get out of hand.

Well, why not call Fred Pax? After all, he had been the editor of, of all things, a stylebook (it was, mind you, the Chicago Style Manual, the most referent of references). Pax ended up being more trouble than help. I mean, why did he have to philosophize the significance of the "of him" so meticulously? My god, man, it was tiring! Besides, he wanted to totally rearrange it. Three hours of pondering led to

No one thought of, simply put, him otherwise, than an, artist.

which is wrong, but he argued that if you're going to be deliberately wrong and so obviously colloquial than you might as well do this. And then, sipping Frangelico, Don and Fred Pax stayed up until 3:30 in the morning, reworking it and giggling uncontrollably.

An artist (!!!-?) *[NO ONE thought,,,,,,of him ("simply 'put' ") - he was: otherwise.]*

They were slain. They fell asleep.

The next morning was a misty morning. Don was standing in the fog on Wumbell bridge watching the gentle whippling of waves beneath. Hundreds of hours went into that comma and all the questions about it remained. The questions had multiplied, actually, logarithmically. But the morning was peaceful. The clouds looked like em-dashes respectfully aligned and marching into heaven. A distant steeple poked humbly and proudly into the clouds, a drop cap letter "A," the first letter of a new chapter for Don. A chapter of new concerns, new things to learn. A chapter of semicolons, or something like that.

On this misty morning, maybe you wonder what Don did. I mean, whether he insisted the comma stay, or let it blow away in a passing gust. Maybe you don't care. Don could be a dying breed, a formalist in a world of moralists. And what would that say about our culture? It's not worth pondering, I would say it doesn't really matter.

What does matter? Only one thing: Where I said, "whether he insisted the comma stay," should I change that to "whether he insisted to Rachel Hed-it-M"organ that the comma stay"? I mean, she has a funny name, and it's good to remember her at the end, but is that just redundant? And this paragraph - is this paragraph just beyond what is needed?

(yes__ no__)

Is that part with the "yes" and "no" the one extra thing that kills it, or, worse, would that have been a perfect ending there?

(...)