Why Journalism at its Best is the Worst its Ever Been

Its hard to remember a time when editors were tasked with helping to shape the news in an appropriately respectful way to the readers — who have come to rely on solid delivery that is devoid of all the social requirements that reduce the integrity of once-esteemed publications to trash cans of filth.

Saturday morning became a hub of disbelief as news of newly-minted Chicago Bulls player, Dwyane Wade’s recent tragedy spread like a virus through the clogged pores of the social media landscape.

Twitter is particularly useful for these occasions — as we all converge to inform each other about the stuff that deserves to be logged in as “tweetable,” “retweetable,” and categorized with the legions of crap that we mindlessly “favorite.”

This time — the news bulletin is grave in nature. Wade’s cousin, Nykea Aldridge, was shot dead while pushing her three-week-old baby in a stroller on the Southside of Chicago. The thirty-two-year-old was apparently the victim of a random act of violence that was aimed at her male companion — but she ended up getting killed instead.

Stray bullets and heaps of body count is the tale of a city that has been riddled with both for way too long with no end in sight.

Wade is obviously grief-stricken over the loss of his cousin and tweeted his response on Friday night:

My cousin was killed today in Chicago. Another act of senseless gun violence. 4 kids lost their mom for NO REASON. Unreal. #EnoughisEnough.

Clearly the star athlete is in mourning not to mention disillusioned with the ongoing dire state of affairs in his hometown — that is statistically-inclined for the destruction of its residents who don’t seem to stand a chance in a climate that is primed for murderous mayhem.

Donald Trump also had something to say about it.

And as expected — his unwanted contribution hit all the wrong vibes as the brutish make-believe politician released a statement that was meant to assuage the cantankerous notions of ignorant policy makers as well as inbred bigots all over the nation — who believe that law enforcement are doing a fine job of sweeping the streets clean from the potent shit that Black people deposit — every time they just happen to be walking by.

Here is his response:

This reeks of all the things that make the overrated statesman so damn hard to internalize. The savagery that allows a wealthy white man who inherited an already thriving family business, to target an unfortunate situation for his own ill-conceived glory — warranted the attention from users who tweeted their disgust and anger.

The takeaway is that Mr. Trump knows exactly how to solve this issue of Black people killing other Black people.

We deserve better but how can we enjoy a fulfilling life that matches our White counterparts when you are surrounded by gun-happy thugs that are working overtime to pollute our communities.

Here’s the thing — The dreaded Republican nominee is an absolute joke who is buying his way into a dynasty that I am quite certain his parents would not approve of. Their son’s blatant immaturity and stark disconnect from anything that is remotely within the grasp of reason — didn’t just manifest during this chaotic election cycle.

So, some of us don’t give a damn what Trump has to say — but sadly, we do care how stories are reported and the truth is that very few news outlets are able to perform basic duties.

As usual — anything that spews out of the dragon lair of America’s Most Lethal Weapon — is immediately unleashed for the general public at rapid speed.

As the litter gained momentum — one presentation stood above the rest — and not in a good way. Check out why:

The Associated Press relied on the less-than-stellar practice of lumping non-associated items in the quest of assuring that clicks and likes will be secured accordingly. That isn’t necessarily a trite tactic — except in this case it is downright disgusting and detrimentally desperate.

We are embodying an age where the bad guys need to be bad enough to keep editors in business. As much as we pummel Donald Trump with criticism and blast his overtly dire views for the benefit of existing and new followers — there is no denying the power he wields.

And the shitty part of it all is that he knows it.

When supposedly well-respected pubs decide that the best way to highlight Dwyane Wade’s heartbreaking misfortune is by tying in Trump’s elaborately prejudiced reaction with the statement from a bereaved relative — you know that biased reporting has hit a new low.

Journalism at its Best is the Worst its Ever Been.

You know it — and so do I. I often fantasize about how fulfilling it would’ve been to have secured a gig back in the eighties — at a satisfyingly flamboyant newsroom that demands the utmost excellence from reporters who work hard as fuck to uphold the manifest — that used to be the silent blueprint but has now been dismembered in favor of lazy and reckless delivery.

Anything goes these days — and I really mean Anything.

Whatever it takes to knock off the reigning champ from the volume of attention that is hampering your style and ability to command the narrative — that can be spiced up for your benefit — but at the expense of victims-in-waiting.

We are doing great things with numbers but our composition has suffered greatly and there is no rescue squad in sight.

Numbers and letters can’t co-exist without strife.

I hated math like a mutha! But when it came to configuring the aspects of literary cohesiveness — I was pretty much ready to roar with confidence, passion, and allegiance to the bible of kickass reporting.

I am out of touch and floating on an Island that is in danger of being extinct.

Yet, I hang on — with the hope that being a castaway won’t end with me drifting yonder without the life vest that was supposed to keep my presumptive ideals intact.

Coding is the way to go and even though I am dreadfully clueless — I can translate the current climate in the world that continues to reject my most basic standards.

We are fucked and I can’t save us.

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