From an essay titled Bad Press by Charlie Cooke at National Review, here is a great description of the decay of journalism in America....
" Despite presenting an opportunity for sobriety and excellence, the election of President Donald Trump has been an unmitigated disaster for the political media, which have never reckoned with their role in Trump’s elevation and eventual selection, and which have subsequently treated his presidency as a rolling opportunity for high-octane drama, smug self-aggrandizement, and habitual sloth. I did not go to journalism school, but I find it hard to believe that even the least prestigious among those institutions teaches that the correct way to respond to explosive, unsourced reports that just happen to match your political priors is to shout “BOOM” or “BOMBSHELL” or “BIGIFTRUE” and then to set about spreading those reports around the world without so much as a cursory investigation into the details. And yet, in the Trump era, this has become the modus operandi of all but the hardest-nosed scribblers."
The problem is insidious and metastasizing.
As the battle over the border drags on, here is tale worth repeating...
The doorbell didn't ring, but I knew something was there because I could hear a lot of commotion .It was late at night and I wasn't expecting anyone, so naturally I became a little concerned. I went to my garage and found a flashlight.
I braced myself, pulled open the front door and...what a surprise!
The little family of about a dozen raccoons! They were so cute and innocent! Their faces looked so adorable as their eyes glowed in the flashlight beam.
I invited them in.
Obviously they were starving! Some were emaciated, tired and probably covered with fleas, so I immediately called my vet. She said unless some were dying, any house call would be out of the question. That since there was no emergency, I could bring them into her clinic in the morning.
Or better yet, she suggested I take them to the county animal protection shelter…
As the anxious and agitated group started pilfering through my house, my wife came out of the bedroom to be frightened out of her wits.
"It's OK honey" I said, "Just some hungry and homeless youngsters who are looking for some food and a place to stay. Can you rustle up some food?"
She ran back into the bedroom. I think she might have called the Police…
I was too busy to ask why she thought we needed help. These little guys were fully capable of finding stuff to eat. Within minutes they had everything in my pantry spread out on the floor and were tearing into boxes and bags, tossing cans around and licking up syrup and sugar they had spilled. A little inconvenience maybe, but how can you blame them, they probably hadn't had much to eat since there were so many of them.
I felt good about things for awhile, but I soon realized they were overwhelming my home. They were everywhere, so I started pleading with them to leave. As I wandered through the house, shooing them out of bedrooms and bathrooms, I found my wife cowering in a closet. Then I suddenly noticed a family of possums was making their way into my living room!
This is a real problem!
I was starting to get a little frightened, so I decided to go next door to plea for help. As I reached the end of my driveway, I stopped cold in my tracks...I was suddenly surrounded by a pack of Coyotes...