A QUESTION OF JOURNALISTIC INTEGRITY:
All other things being more or less equal, I was going to spend some time today thinking up some new overly carbonated bit of whimsy for your dining and dancing pleasure, but the weather, as it is wont to do, has intervened and put the kibosh on all of that. Here in the Vampire State the temperature is somewhere in the nineties, those degrees being in the Fahrenheit range of online courses guaranteed to get you a high-paying job in the ever-expanding world of computers and telecommunications, and the humidity being somewhere in the neighborhood of 100%, so you can forget about hanging the wash out of the line anywhere nearby for the foreseeable future, unless, of course, you think bird poop is a fashion statement. I have never met such a person, of course, but then I don't get around very much and I assume they must exist somewhere on our planet. In short, not only do I not want to expend any energy writing, I don’t want to expend any energy thinking about writing. If I can get by without thinking at all, that would be even better; I do not want to do anything that might generate any more heat; there's too much of the stuff around now. The only reason you are reading this whiny screed at the moment has to do with my previous posting. It seems that some of you, and you know who you are, find the prospect of a delicatessen selling live bait so totally off the wall that you accuse me of a certain lack of veracity, said lack of veracity casting a pall over everything else that I report about the goings on here in our happy little burg. As I do not wish for anyone to doubt the complete verisimilitude of The Passing Parade
, the following is exhibit one in our defense.
I trust that this lays to rest any questions about our journalistic integrity. We thank you for your patience and hope you all have a nice day.
Labels: bait, delicatessens, journalistic ethics, Main Street