Today, 11 people died when a local McDonald’s announced a new item on their Dollar menu. The sandwich promised to contain so much grease and sugar, you were guaranteed a doctor’s visit redeemable with an official voucher printed and attached to every receipt.
While people continue to kill themselves from the inside out by eating McDonald’s hamgurgers, on Friday, brutal tramplings killed three children and an elderly couple, among six other victims whose remains have been sent to RPD for identification.
Officer Hindenson told reporters this afternoon, “The police are ready to hand out a killer slap on the wrist,” to those involved in Friday’s stomping-related deaths.
“We just want to see justice brought to the guilty few who halted the restaurant’s flow of business on the busiest second shift of the week,” said Officer Hendenson. “We deeply regret that these reckless, dying persons saw it fit to lay in the doorway and die while hundreds of hungry patrons impatiently waited outside.”
“All they wanted to do was give McDonald’s money.”
–State-appointed attorney for McDonald’s victims
Hendenson indicated that since the perpetrators in the slayings are now dead, claims may have to be filed against their families.
McDonald’s lawyers were not immediately available for comment, but experts say the company stands to gain roughly $6.7 billion paid in reparations by the survivors.
The coke-addled state-appointed attorney defending the dead victims of what the media is calling the “Fries Eleven” tragedy released a troubling statement to reporters earlier this afternoon. It reads:
Now take one minute, if you will, a moment of silence; a moment of prayer; for the friends and family members of the employees and manager on duty. Let’s pray that they get their shit together, and are not too freaked out by all those customers dying.
We need them to pull it together for the big win on Saturday, when returning patrons, newly-addicted to the McGrease, return in droves among fresh customers to create what is expected to be the most powerful surge of fast food patronage the United States has seen since the toxic release of the formidable Happy Meal in the early 1980s.
“When the Happy Meal came out, there were slayings. Savage, shameful mutilations of human beings the likes of which the Manson Family could never have dreamed of,” said Officer Hendinson, gleefully.
“We’re hoping we won’t have to release the hounds, but we have entire squads of men stationed in and around every McDonald’s between here and Henrico County. They are armed with mace, riot batons, rape-sticks, and caustic battery acid rounds. They’re non-lethal, of course. We have everything under control.”
To find follow-ups to this rapidly-developing story, check our Twitter account and shit like that.
If you’re like many folks, and you believe that because Barack Obama is the President there is no racism, The Elf Wax Times has news for you!
Most Americans think we’ve “outgrown” racism or that there’s no place for it. “Racism went out with slavery, at the same time or maybe before,” said Elf Wax Staff Historian Grit Banks. However, online personal attack debates continue on the PlayStation(TM) Network(ALL RIGHTS RESERVED).
“I don’t hate all Black People,” said one gamer who asked to remain anonymous. “I just hate the ones who act black.” Indeed, there’s nothing more satisfying than a night of intense, but rewarding gaming only to be the final kill, followed up by “Shit son, your bitch-ass got dapped, PECKAWOOD!”
Racists are like pretty bad. But eRacism is a widely accepted forum for Hate favored by racists on all sides of the equation, giving credibility to the idea self-critical human history has long regarded as barbaric. In addition, reports can be filed on these gamers directly to Sony, giving the Hatemongers an extra special title for achieving what was once thought impossible: the Offense! title is granted to any player who successfully offends or verbally assaults a gamer into reporting him.
“It’s a highly sought-after symbol of Hate,” said gamer [KKK]String__em__up, “Surpassing the power of the inverted crucifix and even the Swastika.” This effect is achieved by combining an animation of the two.
While online gamers number in the millions, actual racists account merely for a small percentage, roughly sixty five percent.
As a solution for the ongoing crisis of eRacism, Sony executives are hitting at the implementation of possible eLynchings. The service would be free, but only as long as the victim “really deserved it.”
“I’m gonna use it on one a them towelheads that hate our Freedom,” said one patriotic American who asked not to be named.
It’s thought by some that eRacists, along with Internet Tough Guys, are “all talk” and “got no bark to match the bite.” However eRacists, when provoked, never back down from an eChallenge and will cuss you out to the better end, proving their strength.
Only time will tell whether the eLynchings will produce favorable results. In the meantime, only headshots do the talking.
From the fearless leaders who brought you such wars as “Viet Nam” and “Korea – Dawn of the Hellicopter!” comes Afghanistan – a tactical operation which promises to be “a fun-filled action-packed romp through the desert the whole family can enjoy.”
Just like Wuss-ass General Patreus (more like Betrayus, amirite!?), who originally requested 40,000 more troops to go into Iraq, General Stanley wants forty thousand for Afghanistan. But Obama’s a God Damn World Hero who hates losing so he threw the controller down and said, “Fuck Iraq. America didn’t lose. I fuckin’ quit, motherfuckers. Where da hood at nao!” At first, this motherfucking foot-cock wanted to go so hard into Afghanistan on “counter-terrorism episodes” that will leave no man, woman or child without a urinary-tract infection.
“But then,” he reportedly thought, “It would be bad for ratings.” Even reality show producers who don’t know how to write a story knows there needs to be a visible conflict. Bark Obama refuses to help by sending extra forces because, like every good Starcraft player knows, it wouldn’t be very fun to crush the enemy with a sizable force, neither for the generals nor viewers like you at home. You gotta give ’em a show. “And that’s what we’re doing,” the President said, as he fingered Hillary’s Clittin behind the scenes.
I fucking love this show, bitches! Sometimes I sometimes get so turned on by realistic violence that I’ll insubordinate my abusive husband just to getataste. LOL YOU COULD SAY I’M BLOOD-THIRSTY FOR WAR!
-A desperate housewife
This season of War! Terror on the Homefront promises “more tactical missile strikes, more calls for the ‘MEDIC!’ and less of that ‘blah blah blah why-are-we-here?’ interjection” that dogged the series premiere in 2003.
*silent jerking-off hand motion*
America, brace yourselves for The War on Terror, Part II: Overseas Contingency Operation. Catch it Sunday.
Did you miss Sunday’s episode? Like herpes IT’S COMING BACK! but FASTER! Watch it again Thursday nights at nine, following Everybody Loves Raymond Even Though He’s a Draft-Dodging Faggot.
So we didn’t reach out to anybody, exactly. But it did keep me from moving in with a lesbian. You see, I was going to move in with my girlfriend. She’s not the lesbian. Just keep reading you lazy fuck, you’ll get the story. We don’t dumb it down, you’ll have to cope, sound it out, we’ll get through this together. Anyway, things “didn’t work out” so I had to put an advert out on the most hilarious website in the Universe, craigslist. Man, I don’t even know where to begin about that website. God it’s greater than The Beatles. Anyway, I found this lesbian who was looking for a place to live. Real naive girl who didn’t have her shit together but knew she wanted to move out of mommy’s house. So, being desperate to move into this sweet, overpriced ghetto apartment as soon as possible, I told her we’d sign the lease together the following day if she liked the apartment. She did like it, and we agreed that it would be pretty cool.
In my craigslist ad, I indicated that I’m an editor for The Glorious and Critically-Acclaimed Elf Wax Times.
Where I live, you can’t find peace on the back porch, because some low-life have-not bum will hit you up for a “cig” or failing that, the beer out of your hand. Come test it out if you want. You’ll say, “Hey Elf Wax was right, that fucking loser can’t afford his own cigarettes, yet somehow he’s addicted to them.” Actually don’t come over. I’m sitting in my underwear playing PS3 online and I don’t want shit to do with you unless you are good at Pixel Junk Monsters and have weed. And in this editor’s experience, that pretty much means no one’s coming over.
Anyway, this lesbian and her dyke mommy fired up the old cable modem and took a peek at what her future roommate has been doing with his livelihood. And boy were they amused, or some other emotional contradistinction of a similar degree. Here’s the jist of the half-hour phone call I received at 9 o’clock the same night we looked at the place together:
“Heroin junkheads anonymous. Smack your addiction. How may I help you?”
“Yeah what’s up?”
“James, we need to talk.”
Hot damn, I thought. What’s this girl trying to do? Usually only Lauren’s allowed to call me saying that. “Sure, what is it?” I asked, knowing it would not be good.
“This website,” she began. Jesus Christ, it was just like Weenus, Incorporated and high school. How familiar with this situation I am… “Do you write all the stuff on here?”
“Yeah. You must really like it to want to call me and talk about it. But that’s OK, I know it’s good.”
“Creep you out? Was there something on there that bothered you?”
“Well, the last three stories. And basically everything by Media Mogul. Is that you?”
“Ah, well yeah sorta. You see, ‘we all’ write under that name. I have five writers, every one of them posting under it. Only the regulars get their own pseudonym.” I’m starting to cover my ass but I can tell it’s already too late. I might even have to kill her.
It goes on like this for the next 20 minutes. She tells me about her ideology and how it affects her to the core. “I’m a lesbian, and a lot of the stuff you say. Like your opinions. Like, I don’t know if I’m gonna have to put a padlock on my bedroom door, ya know?” (those doors are hollow honey, a padlock won’t do you any good, I thought) “Am I gonna have to look over my shoulder all the time? Sleep with my eyes open?”
I’m laughing quietly to myself at this point. I even mute the phone to tell the others around me what I am hearing, as well as relaying our conversation via gmail chat to some of the other writers online. It was just so unbelievably funny, that I had to make sure others could remember it as it happened, or else it’d be forever denied as some fabrication or a future embellishment of an early point in the Grand Legend of The Elf Wax Times. This website has cost me a roommate.
The first casualty of war between The Elf Wax Times and the world was not a job, or a friend, or a girlfriend, or my car, or a possession charge – but a dyke roommate. No loss, she had bad teeth and an ugly haircut. Oh, and her attitude was just deplorable, not to mention embarrassing.
“There’s a lot of penis love, and woman hating. And I understand that – boys will be boys.” Yep. And stupid judgmental, hypocrite lesbians will be stupid hypocritical lesbians. This is a girl who expressed to me “We shouldn’t have police. That’s just my opinion. That’s why I want a shotgun. The police are pointless. Fuck the government. We’ll take care of ourselves.” I remember thinking to myself, hey a lesbian I can agree with.” And in all fairness, it stands to reason that a person who harbors such a strong opinion toward the government and humanity might not necessarily love the Elf Wax Times, but see that there’s room enough for this line of thinking, questioning, enough to where any reasonable man would expect the same kind of acceptance for his beliefs equal to that which he gracefully engages, right? Wrong. Not with judgmental hypocrite lesbians. In fact, once we got to talking about The Times, I said, “Yeah I remember you talking ‘down with the government.’ You ever think about writing? We need writers.”
“Yeah, poetry,” was her response. The tone of her voice changed to cautious optimism.
I said, “Oh, well nevermind. We need real writers.”
And that was pretty much that. She called me the next morning waking me up with some excuse about insurance. “If I move out of my mother’s place, I lose my insurance, and that’s like $1,400 and I just can’t afford to move out now, I guess.” I thought, yeah whatever, but if that really is the case…then what we’ve got is not only a judgmental homosexual hypocrite, but a stupid judgmental homosexual hypocrite – almost reduntant in theory, but certainly not in practice. Way to plan ahead, stupid bitch. Or way to tell a transparent lie because you’re too spineless to stand behind some stupid shit you said. Either way, good fucking riddance.
And that’s about all there is to say about the worthless cunt from two weeks ago. Except that yeah, we here at The Elf Wax Times still would’ve hit it.
And hey, this isn’t to say we hate women, or even gays or gay women. In fact, lesbian porn is alright. I have lesbian friends that I wouldn’t want to see in a lesbian porno, but then again, they’re probably not real lesbians. Gay friends, too, people I would do anything for. Well, anything but that. Plus, you’ll never have a gay guy get in your face and say, “Hey Bubba, I think Christian’s the only way to be and I’ll take you out back and kick yer fuckin’ ass if ya say it ain’t again.” You’ll never meet a gay guy who threatens your alpha male status. Likewise, you’ll never meet a gay guy who steals your girlfriend, unless they’re going shopping – and if that happens, bring him over for dinner at least once a week to ensure a long and prosperous relationship with your happy girlfriend who no longer makes you shop with her. You’ll also never accuse a woman of “shopping around with other men.” All in all, leg-shavers aren’t too bad, either. But mostly they are.
On that note, I would like to change the subject. The Rolling Stones stole a beat from Bo Diddly. But the law doesn’t protect drumbeats from copyright infringements. Go figure.
Moving on, I’d like to completely change the subject again using this beautiful transition that I call a period following a sentence. You like it because I tell you to like it. You’re a coward and too afraid to formulate your own opinion, so I’m going to tell you what to think here in a minute. Just sit tight. I learned this from Rush Limbaugh.
Alright, I’ve got myself another beer and I’m one step closer to enlightenment. Or blacking out. One or the two, they’re both the same in the cold, dark end, following a well-timed nuclear holocaust. Now it’s time to molest your little eyes with the truth, my babies. Prepare yourselves for a pointed statement.
Noam Chomsky said that the reason he is not on these late-night TV talk shows can be summarized by one word: concision, something he reportedly lacks. And it’s a judgment he agrees with because, you see, politics and economics and social structure are complex issues that require thoughtful, lengthy dialog, sometimes in the form of exchanged monologue. TV News and Talking Head Shows require their guests to answer a question or refute a claim in two sentences or less. It can’t take more than 30 seconds. The whole idea must be discussed between commercial breaks. Given this, actual intellectual discussion is abandoned, retarding any true progression of American ideology and standing in the way of enlightening discussion of important issues such as the military-industrial complex, the space program, the failures of mainstream media, or the government’s role in health care, if any. This means Noam Chomsky simply won’t be heard, in spite of the fact that he is the most reasonable, thoughtful man you’ll ever hear talking about modern issues that affect us all. His ideas may lack “concision”, but make up for it by the fact that after listening to him, you are enlightened and put at ease; put at ease not by means of pacification, or pandering, but you find yourself eased by reason, something TV news is lacking, and something we’ve learned to live without. Noam Chomsky is what’s wrong with America, simply by way of the fact that no one gets to hear him argue with anybody.
I’ve heard him called extreme once – in a YouTube comment. He’s been called liberal – by a Conservative. He’s never been called a liar, though, and he’s never lost objectivity.
The real reason he’s not on TV can be summarized by middle school algebra, actually. Meet the Press wants to talk about story A and how it relates to story B. Story A indicates this and that, while story B reflects Story A’s ability to really outline the effects of Story B and A+B=A all over again. Let’s consult Mr. Chomsky on this. Chomsky’s response? “Well A and B are correlated, there’s no denying that, but you will see that if you look back through history and compare it to what’s happening with Story C and even the peasants revolt taking place today in Story D (EDITOR: didn’t see C and D coming, did ya fucker?), you’ll see that Story A and B are just an unfortunate side effect of Story E and what’s going on in relation to Story E. Now you see, Story E is unique because of this and that, and I think if we step back and think—”
“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Chomsky that’s all we’ve got time for tonight. Thank you for coming on – we’ve still got so much to talk about. I really hope you’ll come back and talk to us again, it’s been a pleasure having you.”
Concision, kids. He lacks it. But did you ask for it? Write NBC, ABC, CBS (leave Fox alone, though, nobody takes them seriously except your stupid neighbor) and tell them you want real discussion on important events. They’ll laugh at you of course, but you can always tell them…just to say you did it, I guess. But let’s face it. Nothing’s going to change. They’ll ride us like whores because we let them fuck us like whores. And when I said write to the networks, I meant mail them letter-bombs with concise slogans like HOPE or CHANGE written on the packaging. They listen to concision, apparently, so maybe this is a good approach. Nothing says concision like a bomb-blast to the face, which is all that TV news is, if you think about it. Domestic terrorism of the mind.
Fuck concision. Concision is something lesbians like. “We’re here! We’re queer!” ….I know. Your point? Oh, you’ve been conditioned not to actually substantiate a claim by nightly news programs such as Heads Talk and Important Issues THAT MATTER MOST TO YOU, YOU FUCKING MCDONALD’S EATING PIECE OF SHIT HYPOCRITE. Yeah, I understand. The concision of your sound-byte argument makes up in attitude what it lacks in substance, right? Did Bill O’Reilly teach you that? Your own worst enemy is often who you parallel, or intersect perpendicularly – or inconsequentially, as you see fit.
‘But hey…I listen to Rage Against the Machine,’ you think. Stand up to the Man, you fucking lazy honkies. I swear to God, we need the fucking bombs of freedom exploding over our skies. They’ll call it terrorism, but that’s how America was fucking born, and how it’ll die. Bombings. Carpet-bombings. Nuclear bombings. Gas-bombing our own students, anti-protests and tanks running over people, just like the streets of China – that’s our future, America. And you welcomed it here when you voted for sleaze bags with big campaign finances in the local primaries – fuckers like Bill Richardson would not have even gotten close to the Presidential Race if it weren’t for you. And he seemed like a good guy when pitted against Mitt Romney and the likes of Gore, Obama and fucking Hillary Quittin. And McCain…what a joke. What a joke the whole god damn thing has been. You told it America, and I guess my reaction is the punchline?
I got an email today. The subject line reads “Fear is Winning.” I agree. It’s from freepress.org. They’re big money grassroots. I met them at the National Conference for Media Reform last year (or was it the year before last?). They’re big money. I used to campaign heavily, personally taxing myself at great lengths to protect net neutrality and that’s how I got wrapped up with them. They do email me every so often, saying, “Net Neutrality under fire again.” I think that issue is their catch-all. People have donated a lot of money to them in the name of Net Neutrality, believing that’s all they do. I don’t know, man. I used to really follow them. I would even go so far as to mail out their auto-letter, where the thing is written for me or I could add what I wanted to it. I don’t know if I trust them anymore, though, given that they make all that money, and I am afraid to just sign a letter they’ve already written for me. So I don’t do that anymore. I write my own letters. Congress used to get letters from me saying, “I would like you to vote on proposition 327 in favor of…” – now they read, “You savage fucking crooks! How could you rape your own countrymen as if we are your back-alley whores and prostitutes. We don’t serve you, you serve us, now get down on your knees and pray to your fake-ass God you don’t have to work for all that money you get.”
I think the message is clearer my way. But I still use freepress’s handy interface to “mail my local congresswhore.”
So after all this, I bid you goodnight, dear readers, and I hope that I wake up tomorrow and find in the AP wire “Extremist exposes himself to a federal judge after reading internet news column.” I’d do it for you, dorks. Now fuck off, I’m drunk.
This article’s about you, and what a miserable piece of shit you are. You know what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the fact that you wake up every day and look at yourself, thinking, “This is it? This is who I am? I’m such a failure,” and then spend the rest of the day trying to live this fact down.
But the truth of the matter is, it ain’t going away – until you fucking die.
You worthless coward! You fiend! You…voter! You…TV-news-absorbant panty gusset! You sour pussy, you, who stands for nothing. Who lives to consume, fails to create, you who can not love, nor be loved. You fucking baby-boomer 60s-generation do-nothing hippies account in large part for what’s wrong with today’s society. Fuck the Man, right? By doing what exactly?
I’m sorry for your children, and for the state of modern politics, and for the Corporate States of America, and for the Police State, and for the little rabbits and the squirrels, and that rare breed of tundra cat that is almost extinct – but mostly – I’m just sorry I was born into the backed-up sewer that you call “the economy.” This shit that we circulate around calling money is to the economy what I jerk off and stain the sheets with is to my journalism professor. Worthless when it came, mostly problematic if I were to even attempt to do something with it, god damn if I don’t just want to forget about it.
Fuck this “human condition” (more like decondition) – fuck the status quo – fuck your family (stop having kids until we can straighten shit out PLEASE FOR THE FUCKING LOVE OF THE VIRGIN MARY’S DECENCY) – fuck your plans, because you won’t have the means to complete them – fuck it all. Things are so fucked up now that the economy can’t actually balance itself out anymore without jettisoning NASA. We aren’t Communists – we can’t just redistribute our wealth and reset everything to “ideal.” It doesn’t work that way (it would be very unfair to take away all that these 24-year-old CEOs have WORKED SO HARD for just so the rest of the population can have a decent shot at [par] quality of life). You see, it’s settling down right now, but the over-inflationary dynamic of our financial schematic, combined with the elite top .01% of the population experiencing a 600% increase in income is creating another bubble that will balloon up and pop in another five or ten years. And it’s not gonna fix itself.
So that’s it. Make a five-year-plan; but you’d better build it around unfucking yourself after ten years.
Iran and the United States have come together in a landmark baby step, citing their agreement. “Afghani drugs are no good,” says Secretary of State Hillary Clinton. This is partly because the Taliban is forcing the peasants to grow opium, and partly because the United States would have a perfect shot at winning the War on Drugs if it weren’t for these meddlin’ A-rabs and their cockamamy dope schemes.
“Afghani Kush is just something college kids say in order to sell their weak, low-grade pot to each other,” Stanley Straightedge, director of the D.E.A. published in an official press statement released Monday. “We don’t want to effect that.” Straightedge indicated that the two countries are not so concerned with the marijuana leaving Afghanistan, but they want to stem the opium trade, which has been directly linked to terrorism, contrary to what post-9/11 commercials told pot-smoking soccer-moms: that all the money they spent on gas and weed were actually buying the videotaped beheadings of journalists.
He continued, “The kind of drugs coming from Afghanistan contain no more opiates than your grandmother’s ordinary pain medications.” Straightedge went on to say, “The really good stuff is coming out of Mexico, and we feel that the gang wars taking place in the dirt capital of the world are helping to improve the quality of our imports due to increased competition.” He indicated that he wants to keep those fears flowing as a last bastion for xenophobic politicians who sometimes tend to run out of creativity around voting season. “Plus, you’ve got to feed the monkey,” he added.
Now, Iran’s sudden anti-drug stance and a shared interest in being the largest buzz-kill in the Eastern Hemisphere has finally given the United States a reason to like them. In the past, heroin peddlers have used the technique of injecting their potential purchasers in order to get them hooked before they even know they want to buy the drug, leaving them with little choice thereafter but to feed their newfound dependence. Borrowing from this tactic, the U.S. is planning to Zerg-rush the third-world country’s primary source of income with narcotics agents, the antithesis to drug-runners, in an unprecedented move thought by E.W. Times analysts to be the one and only action left to take on the Taliban “that will surely lead to a new terrorist bombing in the future.”
“Basically,” Wayneskis said, “What you’ve got here is a bunch of assholes out in the desert with only one good thing going for ’em: drugs. It’s fine and good for them, but how’s that helping you and me shop at Kroger?” Wayne continued, “This is a real problem for us and for them too because the only way they’re going to be able to plant some grass, open jobs at the Gap, build a good clean country [HEIL] and grow our corn is to get off that heroin and start injecting Uncle Sam.”
On an unrelated note, the War with Iran is expected to begin on its predetermined start date of July 4, 2010.
Washington, D.C.–Just as protesters marched on the nation’s capitol to keep pressure on the new president’s foreign policy, war policy, and end worldwide occupations Saturday, the Obama administration is ramping up for a new war on Iran.
In an expected twist, the joke is on the peaceniks. As it turns out the joke has always has been on peace-loving freaks because the American public has been lied to so much throughout every war the country has ever been in, that there is no way to stage a truly educated demonstration. There is no effective way of communicating anything to the government without looking like a baby trying to explain its own needs in proper English. But those who are large enough and loud enough to do so are met with resistance bombings and war.
From the slitted windows of the capitol buildings, and from inside Lockheed Martin and co., the CEOs, upper-ranking officials, and politicians laugh inside to themselves, their vision fixed on the ignorant masses clamoring to have their voices heard, chanting the best internet slogans the logical mind can apply to the irrational conditions the money-chasing military-industrial complex has created for them. Or maybe they aren’t laughing? Maybe they are too busy reveling in the deeper sense of their ability to control it: the game and its rules, from the flow of money to the reporting of news about where that money went, to occupations to infestations to exterminations and back around again into brand new broken nations. They are the masters of their own little corners of reality.
By sponsoring the news, they are immune from its “bad reporting”. Mainly bad because in the industry, it is frowned upon by executives if and when an unauthorized report shines negatively on Lockheed Martin, whose tentacles of many names sponsor your station, newspaper, or college, paying your paycheck, financing your scholarships, giving you free internet. This practice is known as “shitting where you eat”, and it does not pay the Audi bill. It’s a no-no and reporters lose jobs over it, even though they’re only trying to cover the truth, because the safety term is ‘conflict-of-interest’ by the books, but the truth of the matter is they don’t want anyone reporting on these companies which pay them anyway. This is how the media has become an entertainment industry and why it is no longer known as ‘the news’. This is why newspapers are dying and how the news has transformed into some globular cluster of pill company PR and cancer commercials, with the occasional lie-facts sheet thrown in and used as the inside source.
Because the news used to report facts. Here’s what it looked like earlier in the last century:
Here, you see men working. Digging for the facts, whatever they are. Whatever the detail is that they’re pulling out, you will get the story on it and you can bet the farm on every fact being crucial, pertinent, uninteresting and included. Everything newsworthy runs; everything that isn’t winds up on the floor. Even the Battle of LA was printed in this time. That’s kick-ass reporting!
Newsroom from 1920 [good job guys]
Below is another example of kickass news reporting. Listen to the reporter listing facts!
“Good evening, I’m so-and-so. Here’s the news. Fact. Fact. Fact. Fact. Fact. That was the news. I’ll see you tomorrow because I do my job.”
Now here’s what it looked like in 1990:
“Good evening, I’m so-and-so-II. Here’s the news. Fact. Fact. Fact. Fact. Opinion. This just in – I’m no longer a news anchor because I broke the golden rule of journalism by breaking objectivity.”
That’s right. The guy actually fired himself automatically for infracting on his public responsibility because that’s how religiously fucking objective he was expected to be, but deceit had already been creeping in by this point. This guy went on to be a huge success at CNN, NBC, MSNBC, CBS, FOX, ABC, and early on enjoyed moderate success with the Insane Clown Posse. Probably.
Newsroom in the 1990s
[see where this is headed?]
Here’s “the news” from 2009:
“Good afternoon, I’m a big name in Entertainment Weekly, and this is the news. Interpretation of fact. Interpretation of fact. Interpretation of fact. Filtration of another fact. Small fact. Opinion. Outright slander. Fact half-supporting slanderous accusation. Closing opinion. And that’s how it really happened, folks. Behind closed doors here in my office.” Soon enough, news anchors are going to start telling us “Don’t touch that dial! Stay tuned for a message from our sponsors, and we’ll be right back with a filtered, uncalled-for-but-totally-gonna-happen review of the actual information obtained through our wire service.”
Newsroom from January, 2009
Oh that paparazzi! What wacky, outrageous story will they distract us with next?