The Death of Journalism and the Rise of the Bullshit State

The lies run too deep to be rooted out and seen as lies by the ordinary citizen trying to work, raise a family, pay a mortgage, inform themselves as voters, or any of that classic prole shit. They’re fish and the lies are water.

For me too sometimes. I despair, of demonstrating it sometimes–tonight I’m just a little tired to do it really right.

But. A taste.

You might recall that some 50 intelligence sources signed their names to a statement that the Hunter Biden laptop story was fake, and very probably planted by Russia. It “had all the hallmarks” of the evil commies and their devious ways.

We learned recently that it really was Hunter’s laptop, that it really did have incredibly damaging information on it about his father specifically, and that not only did Russia have nothing to do with it, but that those 50 spoox knew very well that the story was not fake, and absolutely were blaming Russia in a desperate and cynical attempt to get rid of Trump where all their other efforts had failed to do so. They lied repeatedly and deliberately, and with purpose, to you and me and everyone else; our own best and brightest were in fact the very ones trying to rig an American election in this wondrous birthplace of modern democracy.

If you know that much you’re already way ahead of most people.

But that was only the start. Here is where the lies begin to just spike off the charts.

Nearly every single fucking time in that 2016-2021 period that you heard a story about Russian “disinformation”, or “election meddling” or links to the Donald, or attempts to hack, or attempts to rig; whatever and whatever–those too were carefully crafted cynical bullshit, repeated ad infinitum by both truly evil ‘journalists’ and by their colleagues who were just hacks, teleprompter readers, those couldn’t be trusted to see a lie until it clocked them between the eyes.

The largest and most consequential of these eternally repeated stories, like the so-called “Steele Dossier”, were in fact created inside Washington itself, for purposes both domestically political (“Trump can’t be trusted, vote Hillary”) and internationally strategic (“Putin bad He try destroy Democracy!”). Many of them were engineered by the Clinton campaign itself. Collectively this effort has come to be known as “Russiagate”.

Each time a new revelation of this sort trickles out, the silence from ‘journalists’ is positively deafening. There are almost never any retractions, much less mea culpas. The vast majority of the real fake news stories are still up, without any updates, without so much as a red-cheeked author’s note.

What we used to think of as Journalism is dead and cold, just another bony appendage for the ugly Empire to wield as it sees fit. Journalists aren’t plucky young Woodwards or Bernsteins lionized by having Robert Redford play them in the biopic. They’re not mad prophets like Hunter Thompson.

They’re millionaires in cozy studios and they are paid to bend the truth, omit facts, utter useful idiot verbiage, and provide you with a bite-sized pre-packaged diet of fakery custom-built to keep you stupid and afraid.

They’re compromised sociopaths who have made a great deal with the very real devil.

Can I prove it?

Yes I can. Or to be more precise, I know a guy who knows a guy, and together they represent about 50% of the world’s journalists who actually still deserve the title.

The drive-through whopper of proof (five minutes)

The Red Lobster Crab Night of proof (an hour)

The Texas Steak That’s Free If You Eat It All of proof (portion of a book-length article in the Columbia Review of Journalism, which very curiously has received zero attention from people who style themselves journalists)

So there you go. Crap you’d rather not hear, served up a la carte and buffet style like Thanksgiving dinner at the casino.

Enjoy.

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