A Defenestration of Reason

In today's edition of The Most Ridiculous Goddamn Thing Ever:

Our paper's been all over this big story about two prominent local residents who suspiciously went missing this week, leaving behind their big boat, expensive airplane and not answering their cell phones or Blackberries for days.

So naturally since we're breaking the story (yet somehow far down the list of results on The Google News), other media outlets have been calling here all day trying to suckle at the teat of the knowledge monster. This is a particularly prevalent trait among TV reporters, who are well trained in hair styles and visual histrionics, but are typically lacking in the Actual Work department. Usually they call here asking for contact numbers (response: check justfuckinggoogleit.com) or sometimes to interview one of our reporters on the air so they don't have to actually do reporting. Which is fine. Occasionally, it's Nancy Grace, who wants one of our reporters to come on TV so she can slaughter live puppies in front of them while screaming "GUILTY!" the whole time.

So today Big Fabes gets the call from a Fox news affiliate who wants to interview one of the reporters. They offer to send a car over even to pick one of us up and drive to the studio in Savannah.

That's goddamn ridiculous.

Newspapers are dying and we've gotten to the point we're asking people to take voluntary, unpaid vacation time. But the goddamn television station can afford to send a car to pick up one of our reporters. One of our reporters who got all the information and broke the news about the story that the television station didn't even bother to report themselves. Yet they have the budget for a car and we are practically selling cookies door to door to stay alive.

Clearly there's a value on the reporting done by newspapers, a value that TV reporters (at least in this market) can't, or won't, easily replicate. But the printed product is sinking, probably due to a bad business model that I don't understand and has something to do with this new thing called the internet that everyone over 40 think is the fucking Cloverfield monster come to ruin their rooftop party.

But still, that's goddamn ridiculous.