Dingus of the week: David D Smith
Runner up: snow berms, my number one enemy
This is the dingus of the week. The newsletter where I call out someone or something that has made America just a little bit worse this week. Then, I list some good things and tell you what I am drinking. Today we are talking about functionally illiterate millionaires and snow berms. Then, I am explaining why my dry January went sideways. Hint: It has something to do with snow berms and car rentals.
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Normally, when people buy things just to kill them, they’re buying cows for the farm or hogs for the slaughter. And sometimes friendly spiders get involved and say, “That’s some pig.” And the inevitable march of death is staved off just for a while. Although probably not for the spider.
Speaking of poisonous insects,. Alden Capital sold the Baltimore Sun to a man who simply wants to murder it dead. David D. Smith, chair of conservative Sinclair Broadcast Group, bought Maryland’s oldest paper, which won a Pulitizer in 2020, and had a meeting with his new staff this week and told them he doesn’t read the paper. (It’s not clear if he reads in general.)
Smith told the Daily Mail in 2018 that he thought newspapers were “so left-wing as to be meaningless dribble.” According to the Baltimore Banner, “Asked Tuesday during the meeting whether he stood by those comments now that he owns one of the most storied titles in American journalism, Smith said yes. Asked if he felt that way about the contents of his newspaper, Smith said ‘in many ways, yes,; according to people at the meeting.”
Newspapers are not liberal. Newspapers are a money-making business and money is inherently conservative with a little “c” — meaning that it holds tight to the status quo. Anyone who has worked in a newsroom knows that they’re hardly the progressive mecca that conservatives imagine them to be. Unless by “progressive” you mean that the sports desk all dresses like John Fetterman before they made him wear suits.
This doesn’t mean great journalism and investigations don’t come out of these outlets, but newspapers are, by and large, run by the same people who run everything — people who want to make money. This doesn’t mean that good journalism doesn’t come from these places, all it means is that there is no gay agenda leaking through the pages. People just want interesting stories about the community. Good luck on even getting a bunch of journalists to agree on where to go to lunch, much less an agenda.
Newspapers are still overwhelmingly white and male. As Allison Hantschel, who has worked in local journalism for over 20 years, told me in 2021, “If you play to the audience you imagine you have and you are an all-white newsroom, then you only serve your white audiences. And you end up with the customer base you have now, people who believe that if the news is not screaming that we are being lied to by a liberal conspiracy, then they don’t believe in it.”
And in the case of the Baltimore Sun, that screaming hate-mail writing grandpa just bought the paper and is now going to turn it into a trustworthy and reliable news source that supports Donald Trump, thinks that Kushner kid is going places (besides jail), and did I mention that they just love Trump?
Sounds fair. Absolutely no notes or concerns there.
The problem is not that the media cannot make money. It’s just that the media doesn’t make the kind of profit margins that make enough men very, very rich. And that is simply not enough. So, local newspapers are being bought up and killed.
Runner up: Snow berms
Listen, I am not mad at snow-plow drivers, who are local heroes. And snow berms are not their fault. But they do exist and snow berms, what the hell? Give a girl a break, you disgusting, frigid, slush pile. You worthless icy mound of dog shit and snow. NO ONE LIKES YOU. You exist merely as the runoff of our desperate attempts to continue on with our capitalism in the face of nature’s relentless freezing onslaught. I don’t usually delve into ad hominem, but since snow berms don’t have souls and can’t haunt me I’m just going to say it. You are ugly. And I don’t like you.
Weirdly, in researching the intricacies of snow berms for this newsletter. (Yes, I did two hours of reading on snow berms just so I could call them ugly and mean.) I found there is a whole genre of local news stories that is basically, “City tells local dad to stop using the snowblower on the streets.”
To which I say, LEAVE THAT MAN ALONE!
Midwestern dads snowblowing sidewalks and driveways are one of the few good things about society. Those dads in their Carhartts, happily gunning their snowblowers at 5am so I don’t have to get rid of my own snow berm? They are the heroes. And if they want to go ahead and do the whole street, god bless them. This is America, a country founded on men who simply cannot stop Manifest Destinying themselves through their neighbor’s property. And this is the one time, that is a good thing.
Thank you, local dads. Also, thank you so much to the mystery person who snowblowed my driveway on Tuesday. I have had one hell of a week. My kids are sick. My dog had tooth surgery. (Kids and dogs are fine). I had to get back from NYC in a blizzard and drove from Chicago to Cedar Rapids in a rented Jeep Gladiator with a man who broke up with me at the end of the ride at 3am in front of the Avis car rental key drop box, leaving me to go find and dig my car out from two feet of snow. A process that took me another hour and a half. Do you know what it’s like to cry in the airport parking lot in -30 degree temperatures while you kick the snow berms that encase your car?
I was desperately looking to hire someone to help me clear all the snow from my driveway and walk and everyone I reached out to was very busy. But then, someone just showed up, did it, and left. Whoever you are, you’re an angel. When I saw that, I burst into tears.
Also, on Friday morning I went to the hospital to get routine bloodwork done and I told the lab tech that my day today could not be worse than my Monday/Tuesday. And then, driving out of the parking lot I DROVE OVER A SNOW BERM.
In sum, snow berms, you are slurry, disgusting inopportune lumps of all that is vile.
And now for something good:
Well, well, looks like the childcare tax credit could expand in 2024.
Also, Congress wants to end overdraft fees and that’s great!
SHUCKED! The musical about corn is going on a national tour. If they don’t come to Iowa, we riot.
I paid too much money to go to Hinterland. The very amazing indie/folk/alt (don’t yell at me if I didn’t use the right descriptor) music festival in Iowa. I’m looking forward to sobbing to the music of Noah Kahan with you all while drinking Bud Light.
Alexandra Petri is always good. But this week, her satire of Ron DeSantis was especially good.
Jodi Foster is starring in the new season of True Detective and it is good.
Also, Josh Gondelman has a new 10-minute comedy special! He’s hilarious!
What I am drinking:
Well, my dry January went sideways this weekend when I went to New York for my dear friend Megan Greenwell’s birthday party. That young whippersnapper just turned 40 and if I may be allowed to be earnest, she’s too stupidly smart and talented. And I object. I drank an old fashioned and ate dumplings and toasted my beautiful friend.
Then, when I got back to Iowa. An epic journey that left me confused and reeling, my dear friends forced me to come out and drink tequila. My face puffy, heart broken, body vibrating with exhaustion, I did a tequila shot and laughed at stupid break-up emails. And in a hell week, it’s the reminder that I needed that life, even when it’s cold and brutal, and takes your breath away that there is warmth still. Friendship. Dumplings. Cake. Tequila. Queso. And so much laughter.
Also, I'd like to say this newsletter supports "an editor" and I didn't give her the chance to proof read that! (Also I corrected the error.)
I AM THAT WHOLE-BLOCK SNOWBLOWER-DAD! (and I am a mom!)💪👊❄️