Another two people lose their jobs today. Two more not to be replaced. Editor to maker announcement about overstaffed desk. No doubt more shit to come. But I am beyond caring. I care not about my job or of those around me. Why? Because this disgusting bullshit is now inevitable. It is not a question of if, but when. Clearly, I am glad it was not me. But do I care when it is?
Probably not. Due to journalism (or my fucked up sensibilities) I have fuck all. No house, no wife, no kids, I am ultimately recession proof. I'll get another job out of the game and move out of my bedsit to a cheaper shit hole to survive.
Am I happy about this situation? No. The disgust and anger burns through me like a hot poker. It takes so much not to walk into the MD's office, take a shit in his drawer and call him a cowardly cunt.
These maggots intentions are clear.
Community correspondents instead of journalists. Let's call it hyperlocal to dress it up.
Internet's the future - only because it costs less than papers.
Who needs subs - because we will never write anything remotely contentious to need a second glance.
How about investment in editorial producing papers - either free or paid for - that are worth reading. You know why. It costs cash.