Would You Like Some Cheese with That Whine, Mr. Lileks?

Great Merciful Ashurbanipal on toast points.  James Lileks, Mister Whiny Right-Wing Entitlement Boy, is having a hissy fit because his home perch and sugar tit, the Minneapolis StarTribune, is taking him off the right-wing blowhard beat and forcing him to — quel horreur — Do. Actual. Journalism, something he readily admits he doesn't do, has never done, and probably can't do. 

How upset is he over this?  Upset enough to get his good buddy and fellow wingnut-welfare recipient Hugh Hewitt to sic their combined forces of letter-writing and phone-dialing Flying Monkeys onto the Strib's unsuspecting management.

Gee, James.  A rational adult would have, y'know, gone through the union instead.  Oh, that's right — you're a wingnut, so unions are evil.  So instead you're going to have oodles of people who never read the Strib call up to threaten to cancel their non-existent subscriptions.  Wow, what a stroke of genius!

I'd feel a lot sorrier for Jimmy-Poo if he was an actual beat reporter who'd lost a job, like the few dozen folks at the Strib who've been told their services are no longer required; unlike Jimmy-Poo, they weren't given the option of being reassigned to another job within the paper.  But then, the right-wingers who rail the loudest and longest against lazy selfish union employees are precisely the ones with the senses of self-entitlement bigger than the frickin' planet Saturn; they feel that they deserve more than actual twenty-year career beat reporters, because — well, just because, man!

Do try the white cheddar with the zinfandel, James.  And brush up your CV.  I understand Target is hiring stockers.

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