"There is no such thing, at this date of the world's history, in America as an independent press. You know it and I know it. There is not one of you who dares to write your honest opinions, and if you did you know beforehand that it would never appear in print. I am paid $150 a week for keeping my honest opinion out of the paper I am connected with. Others of you are paid similar salaries for things, and if any of you would be so foolish as to write honest opinions would be out on the streets looking for another job. If I allowed my honest opinions to appear in one issue of my paper, before 24 hours, my occupation would be gone. The business of the journalists is to destroy the truth; to lie outright; to pervert; to vilify; to fawn at the feet of Mammon, and to sell his country and his race for his daily bread. You know it and I know it and what folly is this toasting an independent press. We are the tools and vassals of rich men behind the scenes. We are Jumping-Jacks -- they pull the strings and we dance. Our talents, our possibilities and our lives are all the property of other men. We are intellectual prostitutes!"
From the speech of a former Head Editor of New York Times.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Graveyard of Ukrainian Civilization
Today I visited a few amazing places that illustrate what victory of man over machine in the Terminator setting would likely look like. Scrapyards.
Of course, one may be surprised of the dramaticism of the title. After all, scrapyards exist all over the world and it's not really something over-strange. However, there are four or five major ones in just this town alone - a town with a population of 30-ish thousand. A town with no waste processor or the likes to explain the reason behind the large amount of such lovely places. They're actually here for a different reason, namely, for purchasing various metals according to their weight. Essentially, these are places where people sell stolen things, ranging from old frying pans to train rails to graveyard crosses and fences.
On top of these large points, there are dozens of unofficial collector points. While factories, roads, everything deteriorates, people have all these convenient ways to sell off what little remains of the horrible Soviet legacy. Makes one warm and fuzzy inside!
Of course, one may be surprised of the dramaticism of the title. After all, scrapyards exist all over the world and it's not really something over-strange. However, there are four or five major ones in just this town alone - a town with a population of 30-ish thousand. A town with no waste processor or the likes to explain the reason behind the large amount of such lovely places. They're actually here for a different reason, namely, for purchasing various metals according to their weight. Essentially, these are places where people sell stolen things, ranging from old frying pans to train rails to graveyard crosses and fences.
On top of these large points, there are dozens of unofficial collector points. While factories, roads, everything deteriorates, people have all these convenient ways to sell off what little remains of the horrible Soviet legacy. Makes one warm and fuzzy inside!
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