Wednesday, December 22, 2004


Moving. My arms dont want to lift anymore. Burst water mains. Sink holes. A rabid fox. Every competing paper runs pics of the mess hall bombing lead. We go with the back of a utility worker looking at a dispatch computer in his truck. And second with the back of his supervisor looking at a computer, pretending to dispatch someone. How do you work for a newspaper that is not fundamentally interested in actually SELLING papers?