Are these good times or bad
times for those who are paid to talk?
Is there any point in awarding Emmys and Pulitzer prizes?
I drive my own news truck.
I’ve got a story about a
gorilla with buck
teeth riding the roller coaster at Denver's Elitch
Gardens Park. You can listen to me talk
about the effectiveness of the
hydroxychloroquine drug—
there’s a new opinion piece in Newsweek Online.
I’d say these are the best times ever for those who are paid to talk,
except that they have to
compete with yokels
like me, who can keep rebroadcasting Jim Jones’s
utterances through the speakers on the roof of their news trucks.
You may think we’re in dutch,
you may think we’re in luck,
but you listen to me rant while fact sleeps with the fishes.
And it’s not even that I get paid to talk;
I do it out of pure altruistic
generosity, just adding my voice to the chorus.
Nobody listens to anybody talk,
anyhow, but we’ve all got our own news trucks.
