The Big Three

by Gabe Downey

I am GLAD Billy Mays died.

 

There, I said it. Now, let me defend it:

 

First off I want to say, I am not glad Billy Mays as a person died. In-fact, based on accounts from the people who knew him he seemed like a genuinely nice guy. However, Billy’s death helps disprove one of my all-time pet peeves. This stupid notion that everyone has that Celebrities always die in threes is complete lunacy and I for one, will no longer stand by while people make this stupid fucking argument over and over again.

In the case of the last couple of weeks, we’ve had Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett, Billys Mays, Ed McMahon, and David Carradine all die. Is that three? Fuck no! That’s five. We had Farrah, Billy, Ed and Michael all within a few days of each other. So, what does that do to your logic you smiling, self serving piles of shit?

It’s a complete lie that celebrities die in threes. It’s a completely false assumtion an here are some reasons why:

1. People only point out this fact when it happens to “work”.

Celebrities die all the fucking time. People die, it’s part of life. But, when three celebrities happen to die in the vicinity of each other, suddenly everyone and their stupid brother comes out of the woodwork to claim to everyone that “OOOOOoooOOOOOh celebrities die in threes.” No. Wrong. Nothing is worse than only pointing to the evidence WHEN it fits your claim. There are tons of times one or two celebrities will die and no one will say a word because they’re too busy watching E! and dicking their own dog.

2. There is no timetable!

Once again, this entire viewpoint is stupid because no one ever gives a timetable. If three celebrities happen to die within the same year, everyone goes ape shit and freaks out because CELEBRITIES ALWAYS DIE IN THREES. No, you cock-loving moron, thousands of people die every year. You have to have a time table. If you were to say that celebrities die in threes, in the midst of two days and it happened constantly, I might be persuaded, but that certainly isn’t and never will be the case.

3. What do you consider a celebrity anyway?

Is Billy Mays a celebrity? Not really. Did he do anything that had a heavy impact on our society besides scream at us about puddy and cleaning supplies? No. Does he count towards the whole myth of three in the eyes of the moronic public? Probably, because people will pull at any strings to prove their point. Still, once again that puts us at five, not three.

The worst part of this whole thing is not just how people assume that celebrities die in threes, but how they treat the memory of the deceased. When it comes down to it the death of anyone is a rather sad affair. However, their death does not change who they were when they were here. Death does not suddenly absorb you of all of your wrong doings. Did anyone give a shit about Billy Mays two days ago? No! In truth, I’m willing to bet people thought just like I do, that he was annoying and a nuisance who needed to take a fucking chill pill and stop screaming at me about a garden tool that apparently cured cancer. Is this speaking ill of the dead? NO! It’s being honest about who they were when they were living. I’m sick and tired of seeing people update their facebook status’, twitter accounts, etc with memorial messages for someone they didn’t give two shits about before they died. It’s annoying, half hearted and worst of all it’s disrespectful to the people who do actually care and who are in pain, suffering from the loss.

Our society has the terrible trait of turning our dead into saints. Death does not absolve, it puts a final stamp on who you really were and how you will be remembered. Death shouldn’t bring people to apologize and change the way they feel. We should augment who we are while we are here and treat those around us with respect, rather than wait until the end to apologize. If we can learn anything from all the tragedy this week/month/or whatever you want your timetable to be, let it be this: People are people. Good people don’t die more often or more famous. Good people don’t need to live this life with questionable motives, situations and experiences. Be a good person, be humble and listen and when the end does come you will have no mess to clean up, no ill will to fix and more importantly, nothing to apologize for.

So go on, children. Live your life the best way possible. And don’t do it to get into some mystic afterlife lie about a land in the clouds full of everyone you’ve ever known. Do it because it’s the right thing to do.

Oh, and go buy the new Wilco album, out today.

My Opinionation

by Gabe Downey (Pisces)

Good news, my fellow low life rejects! It’s time for yet another edition of my mystical, magical, completely scientific and never wrong or imaginary or ridiculous horoscopes, for the date of Thursday June 25th, 2009.

Aries: 

Today your entire social experience will consist of listening to “Kermit Unpigged” and pretending like Rizzo the rat is actually talking to you and not George Benson. You’ll be really amazed when tomorrow morning upon waking up, you find rat fur collecting around your pubic bone and a half eaten piece of cheese strategically placed on your taint. Worry not friend, he was very gentle.

Taurus:

That slight pain you’ve been feeling in your Fallopian tube will turn out to be nothing more than a cyst that consists of dead cells and a half eaten Perrywinkle Blue Crayola Crayon you ate on a dare in 1978 at vacation bible camp. That holy water you used to wash the nasty taste of wax out of your mouth actually consisted of the tears of 1000 victims of sexual child abuse by their trusted priests. By dislodging this cyst, you will shake out the remaing holy water trapped inside your female reproductive organs. Not to worry though, this whole episode will be over in time for the premier of your much anticipated one-person stage show, “A Tribute to Bud from Married with Children”. However I should warn you to take note of your past: Remember the water doodies the Crayon gave you upon consumption? They will return. Worry not though, while water doodies are frequent and uncomfortable, they always clean up easy!

Gemini:

Today you will notice the man sitting next to you on the greyhound hasn’t breathed for the past 45 miles. Oddly enough he keeps shaking his leg like he has to make wee-wee, but pay no mind. This is actually the fast acting symptoms of rigger-mortis and should be immediately reported to the bus driver who will continue eating her peanut butter and jelly sandwich and scratching that disgusting sore that has pretty much by now taken over her neck. You, being the astute observer of human kind that you are, will notice that puss has traveled from her sore all the way to the change dish, and you will not collect your $.35 change for the ride. You will then be charged for murder of your neighboring passenger who happened to be a Navy Seal who could scale a mountain but couldn’t quit figure out how to keep breathing after seeing that viral picture of Vanessa Hudgen’s no-no spot. Luckily for you, your I-Phone 3Gs has a free data plan, so you can check out that picture too (before Bruno puts his penis in your butt)!

Cancer:

Today, in a weird sick twist of fate, you will actually develop Cancer, the disease to match your astrological sign. Not to worry because this is a new form of non-Hodgkins nymphomaniac lymphoma which can easily be cured by wrapping the affected part of your body in nothing but Fruit by the Foot. You will check your cabinet and the local Kroger and will be devastated to find they only have Fruit Roll-ups left in stock and they all have the peel outs of random dollars bills and cents. Luckily, this can also be treated by bathing yourself in bagged cereal (the kind on the bottom shelf of the cereal aisle) and Wal-Mart imitation Dr. Pepper aptly called Dr. Thunder. Sit and soak in this mixture until you can figure out the distance between the navel and mouth of a good for nothing, egotistical bitch machine and then the reason as to why John Gosselin decided to marry her. Bonus points if you can name all 8 children and the years of therapy each one will need to make up for such a ridiculous upbringing.

Leo:

Today, the term “cock-a-doodle-doo” will take on a completely different meaning when you see a well meaning Eastern European business man drawing a picture of animal feces with only his penis. How does he balance that brown Sharpie you ask? Well, that’s a question you should be asking him.

Virgo:

Today, John Bobbit will be the most searched name on Google when the leaning tower of Pisa finally falls over and the little Italian town is left with nothing more than a short little reminder of what once was. Don’t worry Luigi, someone probably just got mad and threw it in a field down the road. We’ll find it, put it back up and things will be back to normal. Except everyone will laugh at you behind your back and assume you aren’t a real man, and they’re right. Smooth move, Ex-lax.

Libra:

Today, your cat will inform you in the form of a limerick that the devil has officially manifested himself in the form a summer concert tour featuring Nickelback, Creed, Kayne West, Daughtry and Dave Matthews Band. Appropriately, this festival which has been titled “Fuck (and not in the good way) Fest” coincides with the Heaven’s Gate revival festival happening in the same back alley somewhere near the Rouge River. If you play your cards right and Saturn moves into it’s fifth stage of clinical depression, you SHOULD be able to provide enough Kool-Aid to rid our entire population of these unique set of morons forever. If you’re unsuccessful, Scott Bakula will spend the rest of eternity poking you in the testies with one of the swords he saved from a 1986 episode of Quantum Leap. Sorry, even Al can’t help you with this one.

Scorpio:

Today, you will realize that your lifelong devotion to Judaism has yielded nothing but a tolerance for Lox, a passion for the word “Oy” and an extreme dislike for anyone who eats Mayonnaise on their corned beef sandwich. Really worth letting a “Mohel” cut off half of your meat pen wasn’t it, Shmul? 

Sagittarius:

Remember the movie The Indian in the Cupboard?

Remember the little Indian named Little Bear? 

You’ll be disappointed to know that Little Bear was actually played by a Native American actor/rapper who’s stage name happens to be Litefoot and was not really a tiny Indian. Litefoot’s real name however is Gary Paul Davis and he lives in Seattle and raps all over the country. It is unknown how he feels about being locked in a cupboard by a pre-pubescent little boy named Omri. I know I would feel like shit.

Capricorn:

You suck, go fuck yourself. Love, God.

Aquarius:

It will come to your attention that all famous assassins in the history of the United States have gone by their full name (John Wilkes Booth, Lee Harvey Oswald, etc) when your new neighbor, Murder Rape McKillington moves in next store and immediately empties his truck of 30 bags of lye and some duffle bags that appear to be full of bowling balls with hair and teeth.  Not wanting to appear a snobby neighbor, you offer a welcome to the neighbor hood gift basket consisting of an old patty of Egg Foo Yung and a signed laser disc of the Commodores mid-eighties hit “Nightshift”. Being a giant Lionel Richie fan, he immediately rejects the single calling their post Lionel work blasphemous at best. You respond by stuffing his mouth full of California Raisins and watching his dog attempt to pro-create with a section of shag carpeting for 45 minutes. Impressed with your persuasion tactics, he invites you in for tea (that tastes suspiciously like burning) and a wonderful friendship is born. 

That is until he brutally murders you in-front of your kids. Who would have seen that coming, eh?

Pisces:

Today you will look in the mirror and realize you’re still fat and worthless and nobody gives two shits about what you have to say.

Then you’ll realize your show, “The Factor” starts in 5 minutes and you better get ready to go. Fuck it, we’ll do it live!

 

That’s all for this edition, folks. Stay tuned for the next edition which will happen when I settle the lawsuit I’m about to get from Scott Bakula. Take ‘er easy.

Side note: Today is a very special day. Happy Birthday KC.

The Blues are Still Blue

by Gabe Downey

Here is a quick list of things that have struck me as humorous in the last couple of days:

 

1. I find it incredibly hilarious that my family owns a Disney themed Menorah. Suck it Walt, you anti-semite you.

2. Today, after spending a couple of minutes flipping through the channels, Brandon and I settled on a show about crazy restaurants on the Travel Channel, or Discovery or something. They were talking about a restaurant called the “Catfish Plantation” in some po-dunk Texas town. This restaurant, according to the people who own it (and probably their desire for financial gain) was haunted by the ghosts of three deceased people. How did they know there are three different ghosts? Through “scientific” exploration and paranormal investigation of course! So, the owner of this hell-hole started telling stories about how ghosts would brew fresh coffee for her in the morning and break wine glasses because she (the ghost) “didn’t approve of alcohol” in her restaurant. Then, they showed hillbilly #1 in the kitchen explaining how they had to move the wine glasses behind a piece of glass so the ghost couldn’t get to them and break them.

…So what you’re telling me is a ghost can figure out how to brew a fresh pot of coffee all by itself in the morning, yet cannot open a glass door to get to the wine glasses it so desperately wants to break? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? Here’s the sick part folks: people actually believe this to be true. It’s absolutely amazing to me that these kind of people make it from day to day without a complete breakdown from lack of common sense and problem solving skills. Something falls over when you open a door, how about air pressure change? Lights go on and off by themselves? Boy, the electricity wiring in a house from 1895 probably isn’t perfect. You see, just like people who believe in psychics and most major religions, these people are not willing to use reason and problem solving to explain these everyday occurrences. These aren’t paranormal events, these are just normal things happening to stupid, gullible people. Grow up.

3. Come to think of it, I find it also hilarious that Michael Eisner was ever CEO of Disney.

3.5. I found out that the mother of the boy Michael Jackson is accused of molesting is named Janet Jackson.

4. It’s enough of these preachers and Pentecostal believers “speaking in tongues”. You’re not speaking in tongues, you’re babbling like a 3 year old! How can you wake up in the morning and take yourself seriously? How are you able to live normal, healthy, productive lives when you can’t even speak like an adult? Oh wait, you can’t. Morons. Grow up.

5. It’s clear to me now that every walking penis in the world that has learned to speak and use a microphone, works for the VS network.

6. In nature it’s very prevalent that animals protect their own, meaning giraffes protect giraffes and antelope protect antelope. The strength of the herd is used to help the individual. The same is true for humans and our little groups and sects. Christians protect Christians, liberals protect liberals. So, you have to be pretty horrible to be ousted by those whom are in your group. Which brings me to this statement:

Sorry Gary Bettman, even Jews fucking hate you and think you’re terrible.

There are enough rampant anti-semites in the world (see #1) Gary, please stop giving them more reasons to hate.

 

Well, that does it for this list. Stay tuned for future nonsense. 

 

p.s. come on Wings!

Einer für alle, alle für einen!

by Gabe Downey

I am proud to announce the awarding of the June edition of the Gabe Downey Genious of the Month Award to Moritz Fischer. Mortiz has displayed a unique ability to break through language barriers to help stimulate meaningful and purposeful communication. On holiday from Switzerland, Moritz and his friends Renzo and Marc are currently traveling around the United States. Congratulations Mortiz!

To learn more about Moritz’s feat, click the Genius of the Month tab at the top of the page.

The War Prayer

Josh Potter

This is an animated adaptation of a famous Mark Twain story called “The War Prayer.” I came across it after reading the story for a class. I’m not sure who the original animators are, but the story is by Mark Twain. It is pretty much self-explanatory and brilliant. It seems particularly important and pertinent in these times.

Cast Your Fate to the Wind

by Gabe Downey

If you’re a driver here in Metro Detroit, you’ve know doubt seen this bumper sticker attached to random SUV’s and mid-size sedans all around town. For some reason, I’ve seen a wash of them lately even though it seems this whole program was initiated about a year ago. And, everytime I see one of these stickers, I vomit in my mouth a little.

I consider Detroit to be my home town (even though I grew up in a suburb slightly north of it) and some of my fondest memories have been spent going to Tiger games at both Tiger Stadium and Comercia Park, Wings games at Joe Louis with family and friends, Lafayette Coney Island, Slow’s, Mexican Town, Green Town, Hitsville USA, the DIA, shows at the Fox, Fisher, Jazz and Taste Festivals, Corktown Tavern, Bert’s, Lager House etc. I love the history of being able to see the Train Station (though dilapidated) that took so many young kids including my grandfather off to fight the most important war in our history. There is such much culture and history in Detroit that I consider it a pleasure to grow up here. Why then, you would ask, do I hate these bumper stickers?

Here’s why: Why don’t these people get out and actually DO something about the problems Detroit is facing then just hope and pray to an invisible man in the sky whom probably either a) doesn’t exist or b) if he does exist, certainly hasn’t given much of a fuck about Detroit up to this point. Stop thinking of yourself as a fucking hero for putting an ugly yellow bumper sticker on your car and actually go out and do something. The only thing that will ever bring Detroit back to a vibrant city will be through human participation and support, not divine intervention.

It’s time we grew up and actually faced our problems head on instead of just leaving them for someone else (real or not). So, here we go. I’m proposing a new sticker that we can all put on our cars and not look like these morons that are driving around today. Let’s have a vote! Pick which one you like and I’ll print some up and give them out to anyone who wants one. 

 

and my personal favorite: 

Come on and vote in the comments section!

Good as we been to you? An Open Letter to Ringo Starr

Dear Ringo,

 

Now usually, I wouldn’t comment on something like this but this particular situation hit close to home because I consider myself probably one of the Beatles’ biggest fans. Throughout my life, when someone would badmouth you as the least talented Beatle and a bad drummer, I would defend your honor. I would highlight your contributions in songs like “Rain” “Come Together” “Ticket to Ride“ and many others where your drums subtly, yet profoundly shaped the overall sound and feel of the song. I would wax poetic about how any other drummer would have done a disservice to the Beatles by overpowering the brilliant songs, but your laid back, solo-free style perfectly complimented the superb musicianship of the other three fabs. I would say all this because I know that you really did make a huge contribution to the most famous rock and roll band of all time. I won’t be saying this anymore.

You see, lately, you’ve had two instances where you’ve absolutely embarrassed yourself and Beatle fans everywhere by showing just how selfish, out of touch and egotistical you are. For some reason, while the Beatles were together you always got the most fan mail out of anyone (I myself would have thought Paul). Even though you really couldn’t sing and you weren’t much of a looker, the public embraced you as our own. Through countless jokes of solo albums and crappy acting performances, the public still held you in such high esteem, even coming out every summer to see your all-star band of mostly washed up one hit wonders. We bought shirts, your new music (how many songs can you POSSIBLY co-write about the past and being in the Beatles?), and all we asked in return was that you be a decent person, and surprise, surprise you can’t even do that.

Let me refresh your memory to this video that you put out on your website:

 

You crotchety old fuck. I can’t even believe you would make this video, let alone put it out on your website. Look, I understand if you don’t want to sign things, or have things sent to your house. If that is the case, JUST DON’T SIGN THEM! No one who sends anything to be signed to a famous person really expects to get anything back. Or, perhaps you could send their stuff back with a nice note that says “I’m sorry, I’m no longer signing unsolicited objects” and that would be the end of it. But no, you have to “warn us with peace and love” that you’re through writing your worthless name on the artifacts of priceless musical contributions which you had little to do with. This video is an absolute embarrassment to yourself and anyone who has ever called themselves a fan of yours, including me. And worst of all, it’s an embarrassment to the cherished memory of John Lennon and George Harrison. You could not possibly sink any lower. 

Oh wait, of course you can. Now it comes out that you made an elderly woman (whom is probably younger than you) cry because you wouldn’t sign an autograph for her.  Unbelievable. Wait no, actually; believable.

You have absolutely stepped on the hearts of every fan and every person who’s ever appreciated your music and you should be ashamed of yourself. You preach about peace and love but know nothing about either virtue. You have lost both my respect and my admiration as well as millions of fans around the world. I will never again make any attempt to defend your honor, attend your shows and purchase your music. My one sincere hope is that your reputation will overshadow your musical contributions and you will be remembered for what you truly are, a egotistical minimally talented drummer who just got really, really lucky.

At least we still have Paul, he was always my favorite anyway.

 

War and Hate,

Gabe

Stuck in the Neutral Zone

by Gabe Downey

As the Detroit Red wings prepare to play game four of the Western Conference Finals against the Chicago Black Hawks, thousands of fans around both cities eagerly await a fair game between two fierce juggernauts of the hockey world. 

 

Too bad they’ll never see it.

I consider myself a relatively big hockey fan. I watch just about every Red Wings game and even try to catch some out of market games. But today, going into this unbelievably important game, I realized something; I am beginning to loathe the very idea sitting down to watch a hockey game.

Now, this has nothing to do with the Red Wings. They are without a doubt one of, if not the, most storied and incredible franchises in sports history. They’re on a short list with the New York Yankees and Boston Celtics as the giants of their particular sport. Yet every time I sit down to watch a game, I find myself frustrated, irritated and relatively uninterested. After several seasons of this Laissez-faire attitude toward the whole thing, I had this epiphany: this is apparently exactly what NHL commissioner Gary Bettman wants.

Hockey has and always will be a third of fourth tier professional sport in the United States. It’s long, skillful breaks between goals and influx of overseas talent just doesn’t hold the American attention span quite like the NBA, NFL or even MLB. Most hockey fans are aware of this and even relish in it. We see it as our game, and what fans the NHL does have are not just casual watchers, but fanatics that are obsessed with their favorite club. Fans recognize that hockey is the only sport where two guys can beat the shit out of each other and shake hands at the end of the game. It’s the only sport in which most cases (sorry Alex Ovechkin) egos take a back seat for the good of the team, of the sport, and of the fans. Hockey is both a tough game and a gentelmans game, which is something you can’t say for any other sport. With all of these wonderful traits so unique to the NHL, why would Mr. Bettman be doing everything in his power to ruin the game and make it more like the other three major sports? Because he’s greedy and does not care about the game of hockey.

You see, with ideas like making the nets bigger to increase scoring and new, stricter rule changes Gary Bettman is taking everything that was and is so great about hockey and changing into what he thinks will make the sport money. He sees the incessant foul calling in the NBA and tries to adopt it on the ice. He sees the way the MLB handles fights and is doing his best to rid the sport of all of it’s physical expression. He sees the way people all over the south go rootin’ tootin’ apeshit over any football team in their general vicinity and decides that the NHL needs teams in places like Dallas, Atlanta and TWO in Florida.

But what Gary Bettman is failing to understand is, the NHL is not and will never be the NBA. Never will kids of all ages, races and economic situations come out to watch their favorite player carry their team and then go imitate them on the playgrounds. What Gary Bettman doesn’t understand is, the NHL is not the MLB and will never be the national pastime of the US, it just doesn’t have that kind of mass appeal. What Gary Bettman really doesn’t understand is, the NHL will never be the NFL and will never be anything close it. These sports have too many casual fans. There is no such thing as a casual hockey fan. It’s all or nothing with NHL fans and that’s what makes the sport so great. The fans are so dedicated, they’re willing to accept the game they love will never be the biggest sport in the world, as long as it’s played right and fairly. High school and college hockey in mainstream America will never hold a candle to that of the other major four sports, no matter how much Gary Bettman and his cronies in Toronto want it to. And you know what? That’s okay.

But all of these comparisons mean nothing because hockey is not only a game, it’s a tradition. Hockey fans are born and bred from skating on a pond with friends in their adolescence, to playing street hockey in the hours of a waning summers night. Hockey cannot be sold to the masses, it’s something that is part of you growing up, something that has always been and will always be there. Hockey is inherent in the people who love it and the worst part about all of this is these are EXACTLY the people who Gary Bettman is alienating. 

There is no integrity left in the game of professional hockey. Between chinchy NBA-like calls every time a player hits the ice or touches another player to a complete lack of respect for the viewers by selling the playoff rights to a NON-STANDARD cable network like Versus (that truthfully has to be one of the WORST stations in the cable spectrum) the NHL is beginning to wear out it’s welcome even in the purest of hockey hearts. The NHL has absolutely no accountability for inept officiating which seems to be over running the sport. The inconsistency in the referees interpretations of a penalty rivals anything that Tim Donaghy could possibly do to ruin a thousand basketball games. The NHL, so full of serious tradition and sportsmanship has become a pathetic joke.

One of the most beautiful parts of Major League Baseball is that greats like Ty Cobb and Honus Wagner could walk into a stadium today and find the game they loved for the most part relatively unchanged, beautiful and full of integrity just like it was when they played the game. It’s beautiful that my great grandfather and I can share the thrill of a home run, a stolen base, and a walk off win even though we’re decades apart. Baseball remains timeless because it’s just exactly that, timeless. No bigger balls for more home runs, no shorter base paths for more stolen bases. A strike is still a strike. An out is still an out.

Don’t get me wrong, Major League Baseball has had its problems. Same goes for the NBA and NFL. But, the integrity of the game still exists. When it comes down to it; Bud Selig, David Stern and Roger Goodell are fans of the sports they run. Is Gary Bettman a hockey fan? Does Gary Bettman care about the integrity of the game that means so much to so many people? Does Gary Bettman care about anything except building the NHL into a money making sad excuse for what used to be a game; what used to be our game? The answer I think, is a resounding no.

So, this is my official resignation as a true hockey lover. I will always cherish the game. I will always root for and watch the Red Wings. However, I will never again assume that the game I’m watching is a fair test of a skill where the best team wins. Every game in my mind will now be marked with an asterisk, just like Barry Bond’s last steroid filled home run, just like every NBA game that Tim Donaghy officiated and, saddest of all, just like Gary Bettman would want.

Goodbye old friend.

The Case Against the Internet

by Josh Potter

A lot of people ask me if I’m excited over the rapid changes taking place in the world of journalism. As a student of Journalism at the University of Montana, people assume that I get a hard on for the new digitized directions Journalism is going. I’m a hip twenty-something, I own a computer, thus, I must absolutely LOVE online journalism. Why is this necessary? As a matter of fact, I think it is ruining journalism. (Of course, I understand the irony of this idea as I write about it on a blog, but this isn’t journalism, I’m editorializing). But, to make myself completely clear, let me discuss one facet of this phenomenon that is not blogging t oavoid any sort of bullshit. I’d like to talk about Twitter.

The argument for Twitter most “Journalists” use is a simple one: It is a tool for journalists, that it gives journalists a forum to upload up-to-the-minute updates and developments in a story. So, if there is a legal proceeding, twitter-users can throw online, in 150 characters or less, some sentence written in a style similar to high-schoolers science notes, pertaining to every minutiae of the court events. “Hey guess what, the dude in the suit just yelled at the other dude in the suit. The End.” Then, we wonder what happened to well-researched, investigative journalism that requires integrity and responsibility when the journalists themselves are writing sentence-long stories.

That is NOT journalism. This represents a greater shift in journalism not many people are talking about: the choice the public has landed on that puts quantity over quality, or rather, speed over quality. it is apparently better for a journalist to publish his/her findings as soon as they are found rather than take the time to investigate or research. Who gives a shit if it’s right, just get it on the internet… stat! This is where rumors and misinformation is born and where journalistic integrity go to die. I’d rather wait on a story that is correct, then get a minute-to-minute update on my god damn cell phone. That is not journalism, that requires an eighth grade education and an internet connection.

The problem comes when journalism schools and teachers (I.E. those at the University of Montana and most other journalism schools in the country) embrace this newly-rejuvenated form of slanted journalism and teach it as part of their curriculum. It should be the responsibility of journalism schools everywhere to FIGHT this trend, not add to it. I know, personally, my school argues that it has to teach online journalism as a way to stay ahead of the curve to ensure its graduates get work upon graduation. Well, let me tell you something: if you picked journalism as a way to make money, you’re in the wrong god damn field. You should be in business school and then I’ll report on what a dousche bag you are later for pennies. But, I’d be OK with it, because I’m a journalist. I’m not a blogger, I’m not a twitterer, I’m a journalist with a pad and paper and a tape recorder and a mission to expose all the bullshit new journalists seem to be loving so much!

Alas, however, we might be safe. With every passing day, twittering is becoming less and less a tool for the “journalism” world and more a more a tool for self-congratulating college-twenty-somethings to broadcast how totally amazing they think they are. Can we please stop using Twitter as a sideshow to Facebook? Everytime I sign on to “socially network” I don’t want to see three java-script pages on what Joe Blow from my graduating class is doing before he goes to work. I haven’t talked to you since tenth grade (for a god damn reason) and I really don’t give a fuck if you’re going to take a nap and then slap your dick around a little before heading off to bus tables at TGI Fridays. You or your day-to-day schedule is not important enough to care about and it’s already bad enough that you post pictures of your new asian-lettering tattoos or yourself holding… what is that?… another keg cup? I don’t care, and I speak for the rest of the planet that neither does anybody else. Because you, my friend, are not important. In fact, I think there is a direct negative corrolation between importance and time spent actually twittering.

Leave the twittering up to the people who want to ruin the world of journalism. You can ruin my day in other ways.

Fanfare for the Common (evolved) Man

by Gabe Downey

I’m proud to announce the awarding of the May edition of the Gabe Downey Genius of the Month Award to Brian Stanley and Josh Roux! To learn more about why they are being honored, visit the Genius of the Month tab at the top of this page. 

 

 

Also, in unrelated news: Suck it, creationists. You can stop all of that “I didn’t evolve from no cotton pickin’ animal” nonsense, because guess what:

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