Weekly Rorschach

Every week you get my take on what I see in the bewildering, ever-changing ink blot that is our world.

Anybody ever hear of a fact check? It's this nifty little trick they taught me when I was taking journalism and history classes. What's the trick for? Mainly it keeps egg far away from your face and on your breakfast plate where it belongs. "It might even save your career," they told us.

Well it seems a lot of people who needed to hear that lecture were nursing a hangover and missed it. The rest of us came to our senses and got out of that rotten cannibalistic business. Meanwhile, these folks hear something from someone (anyone!) and it's automatically reported as true.

CNN, Fox News, The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, you name it, all report on what the other is saying. They don't go to the actual source anymore and ask tough, critical questions. Fact checking?! Pssshht! That's so high school newspaper!

Sadly, these folks aren't just running the news sources of record, they're apparently also involved with social services and law enforcement. A call comes in from an alleged sixteen year old girl who allegedly has been raped and beaten by her husband of whom she is wife number seven. And we just buy it? We roll in with armored personnel carries based on a phone call? Turns out a nutty attention-grabbing woman named Rozita Swinton of Colorado may very well have struck again. That's right folks, she's done this sort of thing before.

So what happens when someone calls these people and asks if they have Prince Albert in a can? Do they alert the media about a potential ring of regal assassins? Or what about if someone runs out to check to see if their refrigerator really is “running.” Do they go about a block and say “Hey, wait a second!”

Are these people actual professionals? Journalists talk like they have the sanction of God, the Founding Fathers, Ghandi, Martin Luther King, anyone named Kennedy, and the institution of Motherhood, but I’m not sure the Keystone cops would own these bozos. It’s a reminder to me how easy it can be to forget the fundamental basics of what I do each day.

Come on, folks. You get paid enough. Dot your I’s. Cross your T’s. And grow up, for heaven’s sake.