It's The Small Things In Life....

That's the screenshot of bostonhearld.com today.

And the paper version has this hilarious picture on its cover:



Just for a refresher.....the Boston Globe is dying. It's on pace to lose $85 million this year and its parent, The New York Times, has given it a deadline for $20 million in union concessions. Obviously, the Boston Herald, is basking in its snooty rival's demise.

This morning Howie Carr wrote about today's noontime *rally* to save the Boston Globe:

Globies Plan Own Wake, Call It A Rally

To all you silly-billies at the Globe - enough already with the groveling. Self-pity is not good box office. Stop weeping into your brandy Alexanders and start looking for a job - a real job.

And no, I won’t be at your "Solidarity" rally today at Faneuil Hall. But I can imagine the signs - "In Barney Frank We Trust," "Viva Fidel, Hugo y Teddy!" and of course, "Hands Off My Trust Fund."
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You think I’m kidding? Check this out from the Globe in 2003:

"If she had lived, Mary Jo Kopechne would be 62 years old. Through his tireless work as a legislator, Edward Kennedy would have brought comfort to her in her old age."

That’s not journalism, that’s hagiography, which means, lives of the saints.

Sorry Globies, but your death throes are nothing less than the popping of a festering, pus-filled boil on the gluteus maximus of Massachusetts. To quote, Oscar Wilde, "It would take a heart of stone not to laugh."

All these years, the Globe has been telling us how evil capitalism is. Now they really know. They were against corporate welfare - until now. They were for corporate democracy - except for their masters at The New York Times [NYT], where incompetent heirs filled up the newsrooms with their fellow clueless rich kids as they steered their dreary left-wing sheets right over the cliff.

While the organs of statism are in steep decline....

The damage is already done and may be irreparable.

The cheering, the gleeful schadenfreude from yours truly and the clowns at the Boston Herald, may be analogous to a touchdown dance in the fourth quarter when one's team is down 52-14.

See also - The New York Times And Its Suicide Fart.