Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Die, main stream media, die

Who reads Macleans magazine anymore? Is it still published? If I want to know what all the leftists are thinking, I will go read Dr.Dawg * . The daily angst about Harper, so effective that it has driven the great blue meanie from minority government to majority; the weekly issue of the month; and the fresh smell of white guilt that you only find elsewhere in one of those condom equipped stalls in a gay bar in Toronto. Dr.Dawg is free to read; Macleans costs money, and is dead. So, I was shocked to see a reference to it * in one of my daily reads, but the news was good. Well, not really. The editorial staff of the Red Star has not been burnt alive at Dundas Square for blasphemy, but there is the crisp smell of burning birch and cedar in the air.

You can go read the article yourself and form your own opinion * . I wish extinction upon the main stream media. If we were scuba diving together, I would cut their air hose. And watch the pretty bubbles. A biased media is something I would rather choose myself to pay for;to choose; not have imposed on me by way of general government revenues. If I want to read socialism, I will throw down my fiat currency for the Daily Socialist; if I want to read imperialism, I will throw down my fiat currency for the Daily Conqueror. Let the free market decide, much as how a wolf decides which lamb to snack upon.

Aside from my shared distaste for the media, what of the question of what effects will occur when these worm tongued half abled bolsheviks finally get a sturdy Canadian oak spike through their heart? Will there be a spike in youth crime? I already step over sloshing puddles of urine on public transit, a legacy of colonialism in Africa. Will there be more? I dress like a bum, so I have nothing the idle welfare class wishes to steal directly; no cell phone, no stylin' jacket, no gold teef'. Will there be a reversal of an adult woman's right to abort baby women? I hope not. The whores I patronize and the mistresses of my friends would be confronted with responsibility, rather than improving their minds through reading whilst waiting in the abortionists waiting room. Will the queers get rounded up and stoned in public displays of piety under the approving eye of John Knox? I suspect not. Who the heck is John Knox? Gadzooks. But something will happen when the main stream media is happily marched into the warming fires of Moloch, and that should give you pause to think, to contemplate, to savor like the cooking smells that come from paprika added to frying potatoes.

The media has influence on the opinions and beliefs of their readers. That idol of the ability challenged activists, Marshal McLuhan, spilled some ink about this. The internet, the new printing press, ain't the old media. I could indulge in some sort of intellectual dissertation about the rise of a new media, the fall of an old, an existing technology falling away, and a dead one rising up. Sounds like the four elements in astrology, actually; something out of the pre Socratics. Who are the pre Socratics? Was John Knox a buddy of Heraclitus, or is he a Catholic saint? The internet will tell you; the Red Star has its lips sewn shut on the issue. So, anyway, this stuff is going to happen. The main stream media will sink into the quicksand of history; the internet media will rise up. Something is going to come back from the dead, too. I still live in a country without free speech, so I cannot much speculate on that. I do not have to speculate. It will happen, it is happening. I can gloat. I have that happy smile, like in that gangster movie when Mister Big put his rivals feet in cement then pushed him into the quiet waters of the Hudson river and watched the bubbles rise to the surface. You should think about it though, the aftermath, the outcome, the day of liberation, the dawn after the extinction of the zombies.

I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this.

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