MORE local news...

Everybody who has turned on the so-called news in order to 'stay informed', and yet still has an iota of actual brain matter remaining in use, knows that what the local stations call 'news' and 'reporting' are in reality 'feed the masses feel-good puff pieces' requiring all the leg work and investigation of searching yahoo.news or getting stupid shit in their inbox from someone looking for 5 minutes of fame from their video of a horse pissing on an electric fence then doing the "I'm a horse that just pissed on an electric fence happy little pee-pee dance".

Now don't get me wrong. I watch the news all the time.
1. I'm actually hoping, beyond any actual expectations, to "be informed".
And 2. You may have noticed I'm a somewhat cynical old fuck that a little dose of "happy little cute kitten shit" once in awhile probably could do some good.

But sometimes, every now and then,  I tend to miss the message I believe these do-gooder, funny-kitten-video showing, self proclaimed 'reporters' happily doing their very damnedest to coherently read the teleprompter to bring you the latest major news event as if they themselves had actually discovered, researched, and are now bringing it to you 'live', are trying to get across.

My rant today is a result of a video story the media has been showing for a whole fucking week now, about a poor widdle doggy owned by some little old lady (of course),  being rescued from a frozen river near Tulsa, because, having walked all the way out to the middle of this frozen deathtrap, it now finds itself unable to return to its owner's loving, (but apparently too busy to, oh, I don't know, actually be bothered to keep a fucking eye on the mutt in the first place,) arms.

The paid responders on the rescue team, the absolute best this city can field, rescue this wayward mutt through the beautiful, insightful, wonderfully thought out expedient of risking their very own lives, by putting a blow up rescue raft on the ice and through an amazing display of Olympian-style synchronized butt-scooching inside the raft itself, scoot said rescue vehicle, attached to a safety line, out to the dog, who promptly jumps into the succoring arms of these incomparable heroes. At which point, raft, rescuers, and dog are all pulled back to the safety of the shore.
Story with video HERE.
Beautiful story, happy ending, everyone impressed by the brilliance and demonstrated agility of these two heroes in this daring and thankfully successful rescue!

Right?

Well, almost. Except for that one asshole out there, trying oh-so-hard to see this as the feel good story of his life, who INSISTS on noticing the bridge crossing the river about fifty yards in the background. And wondering, in his typically cynical view of those who claim responsibility for our safety, and that of our pets, because we can't be expected to take care of our own shit, why they didn't send one of these two butt scoochers down, across the bridge, and back up the other side, throw a damn rope across, tie the raft to the rope, pull ONE guy rather than TWO (thus reducing possible ice breaking, butt scooching weight) out to the mutt, and then either back to the original shore, or continue to the other side? Less time, less effort, and less chance of double-butt weight breaking the ice everyone seems concerned the dog's weight alone will crush if he even breathes too hard...

(The intelligence is strong in these ones, Obi-wan)

So in closing, let me say: WELL DONE you life risking, underpaid public rescue workers!

And THANK YOU local teleprompter reading reporters for bringing us this AMAZING video story of daring-do and thinking-DON'T!


(I think I might have to start getting more fiber in my diet, or something, ya know?)