Starting over in a Post-Journalism World, Part Thirty-Five.

I love this piece of touching, childlike innocence.

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You mean like the way we are no longer talking about Bob Woodward’s book or Stormy Daniels’ book or the James Comey book or the Michael Wolff book, or the million and one things the Left has been griping about since the day they didn’t get their political way and threw fits?

Oh, I see. Someone needs to draw you a diagram.

Let me put this in terms in even people like this can understand: remember when you dated some jerk that mommy and daddy didn’t like? Remember all their nagging, and pointing out all of the scandals and shortcomings of this person to you day and night? Remember all those nagging warnings of how “bad” this person was and you ought to stay away from them, but you laughed off your folks as puritanical nerds and killjoys, ignored all the warnings because it was fun to know what that bad boy or bad girl tastes like naked in your bed?

Yeah, Left, you have become a drag. Nagging bores with no sense of humour, making the target of your inferiority complex look more desirable and fun than you.

All your screaming and yelling is turning you into snores. You have rich and famous people trying to look “hip” by pretending to be part of some made-up resistance movement, when it is Trumpists who are resisting your moralizing lectures by supporting the bad boy.

They all think you’re just sexually frustrated and need to exchange some bodily fluids with someone good in the sack before you just pop.

Remember how mom and dad told you that forbidden fruit was bad because they did drugs, got drunk, and did some other sketchy things that just made you swoon?

Yeah, keep up the tantrums, and before you know it, Trump will trade up to being a living god.

The Left have become a special kind of stupid: they became square and sexually repressed parents no one wants to listen to because it is always the same old story.

It is overkill: you honestly expect to shock people when you have a singular obsession of a single target who does what other people you support always did and continue to do?

It is like having hypocritical parents rag on you for having dated a forbidden fruit, and the call out all of the things they do themselves.

You just sound like a nagging loon and no one listens to an old nagging tattletale.

Or, just as someone trying to cash in on a cottage industry for profit.

You have inoculated the supporters from your round-the-clock jealous and petty ranting: when your disapproval of his hair is on the same level as everything else, you just look envious and nit-picky as you have nothing positive to offer.

And Trump knows it.

When you sound like a bitter ex-spouse, you play right into his hands.

When will they learn?

When will they see how ugly they have become?

Journalists never did: if they did, they wouldn’t try to hitch their dead ride on slagging Trump, but rebuild without the melodrama.

We have NPR trying to explain away Brett Kavanaugh’s seven cleared FBI probes by babbling how the president is tough on some, not on others.

Yeah, as I recall, he doesn’t exactly have a good working relationship with the Bureau.

James Comey et al, anyone?

Or the knuckle-draggers at Morning Joe who had this theory to proffer:

Later in the nearly two-hour conversation, [Joe] Scarborough offered another potential rationale for Donald Trump not running for re-election. “He has early signs of dementia,” he said. “His father had it and now he has it.”

You know, for a guy who supposedly has “early signs of dementia”, he always whips your backsides, news media.

Pathetic showing, isn’t it?

No, he is cunning, eccentric, uninhibited, and unpredictable, and just because journalists are none of those things, doesn’t make those who are mentally ill.

But it leads to an interesting realization: journalists are none of those things they need to be to be of actual use to society.

They just nag and gossip to the little people how horrible other people are.

Journalism is no longer a profession. It is the channeling of church ladies.

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And it is not about anything but seeing reality in order to find the truth.

If you cannot see how far off the trail you are, then you do not see reality, meaning you do not know the truth.

You are just in love with virtue-signalling and melodramatic narratives.

The alternative to journalism is not the venue for the prissy gossipers who turn a blind eye to the sins of their chosen ones as they hyperventilate as they demonize their decreed rivals and enemies.

It is not about “the get.”

It is about getting it.

And you need the right intellectual and emotional qualities to do it…