What fresh hell?

The other day we wrote about a very dark day at WXIA-TV 11Alive -- and there's reason to fear more storm clouds may be gathering. As previously noted, employees at 11Alive have rolled with some pretty heavy punches -- salary reductions and unpaid furloughs known as "Gannett Vacations" -- in the hopes of avoiding the kind of out-and-out bloodbath that has taken place in other newsrooms. Then, late last week, came word that the axe had fallen on a longtime newsroom manager beloved by just about one and all. (The details are here if you missed the post.) An isolated incident? Take a look at this article in Sunday's edition of the New York Times, headlined, "You're Gone, But You Can Reapply." Two weeks ago, at The Journal News in Westchester -- which, like 11Alive, is owned by Gannett -- the 288 news and advertising employees were told that jobs were being restructured "and that they all would need to reapply for the new positions and that by the time the re-org music stopped, 70 of them would be without jobs." NYT media writer David Carr sums it up quite nicely in his next paragraph: "What fresh hell is this?" How bad was it? One "survivor" is quoted as describing the experience this way, “It was an unreal day around here, with people being called up to the third floor and being told. We’d clap when someone came down and gave a thumbs up, but it became obvious that many of the people being called up later would not be sticking around." Carr goes on to speculate that although the plan was conceived locally, "it could portend things to come at Gannett." Happy Tuesday!

A dark day at 11Alive...

Employees at WXIA-TV 11Alive have rolled with some pretty heavy punches -- salary reductions and unpaid furloughs -- in the hopes of avoiding the kind of out-and-out bloodbath that has taken place in other newsrooms. "Others sucked it up and took the hit so as not to massacre their ranks," an insider tells me -- while the company has continued to make money. So, there is understandable shock and dismay throughout the building today over news of the sudden departure of newsroom veteran Cal Callaway. No, he didn't die -- it just seems that way to everybody else who is still there... And, of course, folks understandably are wondering if this is just the beginning of a nightmarish purge and who is next. A true "stand up" guy, Cal climbed the ranks from assistant assignment editor to eventually become the station's very popular news director, but he was replaced about a year ago. With characteristic good spirit, he remained on board in another position and continued, as always, to give WXIA his all. His departure is a loss for 11Alive in ways management can not even begin to imagine.

Resistance is futile . . .

This was originally published in April 2009.

Generally speaking, celebrities really don't have much impact on politics. And when they do, it's probably the opposite of what they had in mind.

In other words, if I was running for president, or even dogcatcher, I'd beg Susan Sarandon and Sean Penn to throw their support elsewhere.

Think about it.

Even good ol' Chuck Norris, who most people actually like, didn't really do much of anything for Mike Huckabee's campaign except generate a few chuckles.

But then there's Jeri Ryan.

The actress who played Seven of Nine in Star Trek: Voyager (as well as roles on Boston Public and Shark) single handedly, if unintentionally, changed the course of American history. It's an interesting footnote that's been completely overlooked.
What the hell am I talking about?

Well, back in 1999, Jeri Ryan sought and obtained a divorce.

In sealed documents, she basically accused her husband of being a pervert. The actress claimed that he had asked her to perform sexual acts with him in public, and forced her to accompany him to sex clubs in New York, New Orleans and Paris, one of which she described as "a bizarre club with cages, whips and other apparatus hanging from the ceiling."

And...?

I mean, God knows that's what I would do if I was married to Jeri Ryan. But, I suppose that's beside the point.

Documents in the case were sealed for five years, but then opened in 2004. By then, Star Trek: Voyager had gone off the air and Jack Ryan (no relation to the fictional hero of the Tom Clancy novels) was running for an open U.S. Senate seat in Illinois. In fact, he was a cinch for the Republican nomination and almost certainly would have gone on to victory in the general election. Enough people still liked Republicans back in 2004.

The sex scandal destroyed Jack Ryan as a viable candidate. He dropped out and was replaced by volatile and unelectable Alan Keyes as the Republican nominee.

Keyes was easily defeated by the Democrat, a little known state legislator who -- as a direct result of this victory -- would go on to big things very, very quickly.

His name was Barack Obama.

Now, shut up.

The world didn't end.

Predictably.

Uhhh...

Harold Camping ruined Halloween.

Had there been a clue we'd still be here tonight, I'd have dressed up like the doctor who killed Michael Jackson -- although, granted, I'd probably have had to tell people I was dressed up like the doctor who killed Michael Jackson.

But when the Apocalypse didn't come on Oct. 21, as Camping predicted, I -- like so many others -- was in shock.

Shock, I tell you.

So, it's the end of the month... Camping, who is 90, still hasn't commented... and even those of us who are true believers are starting to, well, wonder.

Camping's media liaison, Tom Evans, hasn't had anything to say since the Sunday before the non-Rapture.  And if Tom isn't talking, you know its bad.

“He believes that unbelievers will simply become tired, fall asleep and never awake," Tom said on Oct. 16. "I want to believe this. I hope and pray that this is the case.”

Are you with me here, folks?  All kidding aside, this dork was praying for the end of the world.

Not just because he knew he was going to look like a big idiot.  And not just because he and an unbelievable number of other morons spent their life savings to pay for Rapture and Apocalypse advertising on billboards and park benches.

Tom Evans, who has known Camping for nearly three decades, actually hoped he'd be Trick or Treating in Heaven this year.

"For a long time, I’ve had expectation that Christ would come back in my life time. Now, within the last six years, since around 2005, 2011's become a very real year. Has become a very important year.”

Keyword: Real.

“So now, here we are," Tom continued. "The 10,000-pound elephant sitting right in the room. In less than five days from today, we’ll know whether we were right or wrong -- whether we understood the Scriptures correctly, whether the Spirit of God directed us, or whether we were deceived. That’s a big question.”

Not really.

“The other question I think that is huge, is whether or not any of us here will be left, will fall asleep and ever reawaken. That’s a question that’s between you and God. Only God can answer that, and only you can answer that.”

Wrong again, Tom, you stupid asshole.

God isn't the only one who can answer that.

I can.

"They grow 'em big..."

This great photo came to me via e-mail forwarded by a friend, under a subject line that says, "They grow 'em big in Georgia!"

According to the e-mail, this is a 9-foot, 1-inch Georgia rattle snake weighing 97-pounds and found in Bulloch County, just north of Savannah.

"Biggest rattler found since Ross Allen captured one in 1969, that measured 9 feet, 1 inch but only weighed 78 lbs.," the e-mail points out.


"This old guy was found inside a [sic] open water tank near an abandoned chicken house," the e-mail continues.

I'm not sure if the reference to "old guy" refers to the snake or the geezer with the pole -- but it really doesn't matter.

Either way, the whole thing is a lie.

Apparently, this same photo has been turning up all over the country.

In one instance, the snake is said to have been found in Medicine Lodge, Kansas. In another, it came from Amarillo, Texas.

And, regardless, it is undeserving of the praise it got in a Georgia website called Lowcountry Outdoors:

"Truly a magnificent specimen, a mature diamondback rattlesnake is a wonder of nature and he makes his home in parts of our coastal plain. These snakes are much more rare these days and most outdoorsmen have never seen a diamondback in person."

Another website, TruthorFiction.com, questions the snake's authenticity altogether.

"The picture itself is one of a rattlesnake that has been positioned well in front of the man holding it and close enough to the lens of the camera to make it appear larger than life," the website points out. "It's doubtful that a 97-pound rattlesnake could be held as effortlessly as depicted in the picture."

This is a prime example of why we really can't rely on the internet for news.

And, by the way,  here's a recent picture taken outside my house with a cellphone.  The snake and the children are real, and there's no Photoshop involved.

...and I feel fine.

Someday, the American people will be expected to heed a warning from the Centers for Disease Control.

Forgive us if we assume it's just another joke. 

On its official website, this supposedly responsible government agency has posted precautionary guidelines for a "zombie apocalypse."  Here's a link, but in the event the page is removed (as I suspect will soon be the case), it's reprinted below, where you can click and magnify:

Your tax dollars at work, folks.

The genius behind this is Dr. Ali Khan, the assistant surgeon general of the United States, an expert on bioterrorism, global health, emerging infectious diseases and flesh eating zombies. 

"There are all kinds of emergencies out there that we can prepare for," the wannabe comedian writes.  "Take a zombie apocalypse for example. That’s right, I said z-o-m-b-i-e a-p-o-c-a-l-y-p-s-e. You may laugh now, but when it happens you’ll be happy you read this..."

Unbelievable.

And, no, I'm not referring to the zombies. 

Oh, by the way, just in case there's an "idiot apocalypse," here's what you should look for:

Dr. Ali Khan, as portrayed by Eugene Levy

Entirely too enamored with his own cleverness, the smug Dr. Khan -- who has been hailed as a "public health hero," yet obviously doesn't have enough real work to keep him busy -- is dismissive of all complaints, and blithely says he was simply trying to come up with a new way to tell people how to prepare for hurricane season.

I'm sure the victims of Katrina and other killer storms are grateful.  Especially for the pictures of animated corpses drenched in blood.

 "Public health preparedness allows us to think about the unexpected and unpredictable events, and I guess you can include zombies in unexpected and unpredictable events," he said.

Don't guess, ok?  We already have Saturday Night Live.  We need the CDC to be the CDC.

Dr. Khan seems oblivious to the negative impact this kind of cavalier joking around could have, and does have, on the CDC's reputation.  It wasn't long ago that the possibility of a deadly swine flu pandemic was literally being mocked by the general public, despite an actual warning from the CDC.  Is nobody in that building on Clifton Road in Atlanta aware of how little confidence and trust you have in the first place?

Have none of you ever heard the story of Chicken Little?

Coverage of Dr. Khan's antics has been overwhelmingly favorable, and often tongue-in-cheek.  No surprise there.  Most so-called legitimate media outlets have lost all sense of responsibility, and, seemingly, the ability to differentiate between fact and fiction, or, at least, the ability to care.  They choose to entertain rather than to inform, and if people read or watch, that's all that matters.

No wonder Dr. Khan thinks it's ok to be an internet sensation at the cost of dignity, not to mention reality.

Even worse is his timing -- which, in all probability, is intentional.

In recent days, the geriatric prophet Harold Camping and his less-than-merry band of followers -- who were introduced to readers of Certain Speculation in a New Year's Day essay titled, "Torment of the Scorpion" -- suddenly have received an enormous amount of coverage, a further testament to the ongoing decline of "news" in this country.

Consequently, just about everybody in the U.S. is aware Camping predicted May 21 -- today -- would kick off the Rapture.

I'm willing to bet at least half the people on your "friends" list posted something about having survived the day.  A lot of comments on Facebook have been clever and quite humorous.  Entirely too many, however, put up links to the R.E.M. song, "It's The End of the World As We Know It."

Problem is, even by Biblical standards, the Rapture isn't the end of the world. 

The end of the world is the Apocalypse, and, according to Camping, it doesn't come around until Oct. 21.

Surveys indicate 76% of Americans identify themselves as Christians -- yet, best I can tell, few know the difference between the Rapture and the Apocalypse.

Most of us can expect be cleaning up a lot of dead bodies, if Camping happens to be correct.  Those who are among the "saved," by contrast, should be slumping over any minute by the hundreds, as your souls are snatched out and taken directly into Heaven.

So far, no reports of that happening -- but, as of this writing, the day isn't over!

Why it takes five months to complete the Rapture, I really don't know.  Maybe it's like flying on a commercial airline.  You board by zone, on a delayed flight.

Obviously, Camping is deranged, but he seems to believe what he's saying is true -- unlike Dr. Khan, who merely is a misguided, irresponsible egomaniac.  And the folks bringing you both these "stories?"  They just don't care one way or the other.

Neither, it seems, do the most pious among us.

Details of the Rapture and Armageddon are set forth in Revelation, the final book of the New Testament, and are therefore basic tenets of Christianity, very few Christians seem to believe in them with any degree specificity.  In fact, the most religious people I know are enjoying a good laugh at Camping's expense -- albeit prematurely.

In October, you see, we'll be going through this all over again, when the Apocalypse doesn't come either.

Here's why:

For newspapers and television, the world really is coming to an end.

Unable to adapt or compete with the internet and personal communication devices,  they are like dinosaurs in aftermath of a catastrophic meteor crash.  Extinction is at hand, but their tiny brains are incapable of comprehending what has happened, so, as an enormous cloud of ash darkens the sky, they writhe and scream louder and louder as they are pulled slowly and painfully into bubbling tar.

Struggling to survice, they will do anything.

Anything.

Death throes are always ugly.
  

Throughout history, people have predicted the end of the world, and, throughout history, they've been wrong.  For the most part, we ignored these individuals, until and unless they and their followers committed suicide en masse -- which, to my way of thinking, is an example of Darwinism at its finest.

The difference between then and now is that fanaticism and mental illness is being presented as a form of entertainment, and we're not angry about it.

We're just laughing.