MY PROFESSION HAS LOST ITS SOUL

Today, Fleet Street closes down. For those who don’t know, Fleet Street in London, England is the center of English urban journalism. It was street-pounding journalism incarnate. Now, the white-collar scumbags have won and one of the last bastions of the real deal, rainwater and cynicism, have fallen by the wayside.

Journalism is not a respected profession. Journalists are not respectable people. They are necessary, like sanitation workers. They are living proof that your world is bad and it needs to be better. Modern journalists have gotten around this by sacrificing the truth in the name of glamour and appeal. I hate them all and wish to see their deaths. May their bodies be used to mortar a new structure, a new Fleet Street somewhere in the world (preferably in the US, so that I may work there) and together we will work to do the JOB.

A true journalist does not often get depressed. We get angry.
R.I.P. Fleet Street. You will be missed.

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