Not To Be Bested By The NYT …
… The Washington Post editorial page steps in it today.
Eugene Robinson writes an opinion piece concerning the ramapant youth violence in Ward 8, the poorest section of DC. Not coincidentally, Mayor-for-Life Marion “The Bitch Set Me Up” Barry is Ward 8’s City Council member. Mr. Robinson bemoans the crushing unemployment, abject poverty and culture of violence for a recent drive-by shooting, but can’t quite put his finger on the cause.
Meanwhile, directly below Mr. Robinson’s piece is an opinion by fellow WaPo opinionator Richard Cohen. Mr. Cohen’s piece concerns the death-by-bullying attack on Phoebe Prince at South Hadley High School, Massachusetts. Likening the attack to Golding’s Lord of the Flies, Mr. Cohen gets it right. The lack of parental involvement in the lives of the bulliers was a proximate cause of Phoebe Prince’s death. No one’s called the bulliers’ parents to account.
So, ‘Puter asks, is anyone at the WaPo reading its own op-ed writers? Mr. Robinson identifies what he considers an intractable, inexplicable problem, and blames it on the public’s short attention span. Mr. Cohen takes a similar scenario and lays the blame squarely where it belongs: at the feet of the parents.
So, WaPo, get your story straight. Are inner city poor off the hook because it’s not their fault “the public” won’t do anything to help them? Or is it as Mr. Cohen believes, the disintegration of the family unit that’s caused the inner city’s woes?
Perhaps an enterprising editor would have the two debate the issue in the pages of the WaPo. It might be interesting.
Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.
’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.
The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.
His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.
He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.
Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.
‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.