memo to frances morton sst...

 it used to be that SST stood for supersonic transport but now it is just the old sunday star times.

This week is a doozy. full of right wing diatribes, propaganda and half truths retailed at full price.

the editor of the sst makes at least two egregious errors in her editorial today.

1. first she cries that no one is interested in local body politics but the thing is that local body politicians once they are elected try to stay as far away from the voters as possible. They are not actually seen to be responsive to individual problems or care for the concerns of the voters. once they are in it is guranteed pin money for three years.

2. morton makes yet another critique of society on the grounds of colonialism and the supposed effects on people in general. colonialism brought spuds, pumpkins peas corn mutton beef pork cars telephones televsion and who knows what else and  there is nobody alive in the world today who was alive when the world was made into one  unit.

the origins of colonialist theories bear a  similar relationship to rap noise. rap began as a vanity press for overmoneyed dealers of crack in the "projects" and are now lost in time as the musical thieves and their acolytes shove their torrents of words down everybody elses throats. eat it mother

modern colonial theory is a concatenation of busy body do gooders in American university philosophy departments who think they can right wrongs that occurred two centuries ago but by  stirring  up  a hornets nest  for angry people to hang their aggression on and creating a set of demands that can never be satisfied but can go on forever.

i dont suppose one should blame morton for pandering to the lowest levels and repeating the same old shibboleths over an over for the purpose of garnering readers but the as far as I am concerned it is time the nonsense stopped and editors started demanding more of their jpurnalists than the same old tired  nonsense.

in her defense she claims to be providing context for readers but I dont buy that at all. 

in the words of donald duck: phooey.