I had to post a comment to this silly, arrogant, human being -
http://agentsoutlook.blogspot.com/. Since he may not publish it, I will repost it here.
"Can you get your meth-addled head around the simple fact that you are not god's gift to writers? Ah, life seems so simple and resplendent now - the publishing parties, the midnight coke fests, the hazy, drunken weekends at your pappy's house in the Hamptons where you, no doubt, wax poetic about those dumb-**** hicks from Alabama who keep sending you manuscripts that are not about how great life is being a New Yawker. Are you pretentious? Definitely. Arrogant? Of course. But, you have every right to be as you are, perhaps, the greatest living agent ever. You’re a hot, young man about town with the power and ruthlessness to shoot down every bum-****, dork, and fly over stater there ever was. What? Your novel isn’t about being young, anguished, and addicted to women and house paint while living in SOHO and writing poems about dog hair? You wrote an epic about your grandfather’s illegal flight from Central Mexico into Arizona? Who wants to read that? That will not resonate with the rich, hip, liberals that I associate with. Sorry, learn your craft!"
I know its a bit presumptuous, but the person is annoying and pretentious. I hate pretention in anyone, even great, god-like agents.