While vying for the title of worst ecological peninsula on the planet Earth, the Tampa Bay Times have finally proven that the American dream was a lie, theft is simply proof of property after you blink and open your eyes again and acts of heroism are regarded as insignificant against the possibility of making Facebook people angry. Never has there ever been a public newspaper so hell bent on making sure the planet dies.
With award after award allowing for drunken dinner party after dinner dinner party of self congratulatory decadence, sniffers of La Grand Orange’s ass absolutely prove that you cannot only screw with the brains of every sentient person within your grasp but make them pay for the privilege of it just like the church. Never has there ever been a journalistic enterprise more un-capable of journalism. Never has there ever been less truth represented on the pages of an American newspaper. In all the history of journalists and journalism and every damn thing that is good about a clear solid look at a subject and reasonable public reporting simply does not exist under Trump’s umbrella.
Would you like to measure dicks? Because obviously, journalistic integrity is not your strong suit. You are in the business of making money and you are not in the business of journalistic ethics. You’re not even news hounds. It is simply the Empire right there in the middle of the ocean poisoning the Atlantic and every living thing it touches including a few islands of people who have had to live with this useless appendage for decades.
I think maybe journalistic ethics mean something. I think maybe journalists who are willing to risk their lives to tell the truth should be applauded. I also think we should live in a world where, when you have a reliable reporter making a report, and this is in the public now, the public should clearly listen to this report. It should be a part of the contract between writer and public. And yes, this is a public only, crowdfunded, unadvertised, handmade, budget reasonably close to 0 and without any interest in commercial help except for reasonable ecological projects that involve everybody. I think there is a point where a kilogram of paper is superfluous because you can get it on the internet cheap.
But I also think that if the world no longer allows you your kilogram of paper, and you actually want to stand there talking like journalists, I say you file that shit down to a razor point and get your act together because you are possibly the greatest polluter on the planet Earth from the cosmos. If it’s God looking down and looking at you, you are disgusting and Mr Trump seems to be the cancer that has spread unilaterally.
And so on my first day reporting for the Utopian, I mean green 2021, I will now do the job I tried to do a couple of years ago when we started this all. If you live in Florida and you’re Jewish, Shabbat Shalom. I don’t care. Even if you have tattoos I don’t care. If you’re in the tribe, Shabbat shalom. Shalom alaikum. You are better than this. Whatever it was a long time ago it is not now. You can just go home again and make that place green and be with your people and stop having your money siphoned from you in Egypt. Because if that ain’t Egypt, if the state of Florida is not Egypt, Egypt never existed. That is pyramid land and the ecological results that follow living a life of consuming flesh. Flesh eaters. Excuse me while I spit. Prison reform? Hahaha.
If you’re interested in some ethics about the state of Florida and the ecological issues there, I absolutely promise this will be here on these pages very seriously. But if these pages are sometimes written with great dripping sarcasm or outright rage, there you go. It’s not like we’re charging for it. We just want people to help. I mean, you can send money and then people who need money can help and that’s a pretty good symbiosis. But other than that, just help. But in the meantime, and y’all can pop up on the elevator into the sky and watch the world rotate for a little while and you can find me because you basically know where I am, Shabbat Shalom. And every hour that the sun goes down near you, let it be a blessing that you noticed that you were on a planet rotating around a sun that had a moon and whose food for you could be an abundance if you just stopped making Mama do tricks on the street for crack money. Just stop spilling oil on a place that can no longer have any fertility because of touching this industrial waste product and perhaps everybody has enough to eat and nobody has to live in Florida anymore.
