"I don't believe in journalists having 'responsibility.'"
-Seth Lipsky, October 16, 2003

Seth Lipsky and Ira Stoll demanded on August 20, 2003, that Washington "finish the war" against "the Arabs."

Seth Lipsky and Ira Stoll assembled their staff for a Champagne toast to mass death on the commencement of hostilities against Iraq. Stoll called it "my war." CNN maintains a running update here of Americans killed in Ira's war.

On February 6, 2003, Seth Lipsky and Ira Stoll wrote, in all seriousness, of a pending anti-war demonstration that the "the New York City police could do worse, in the end, than to allow the protest and send two witnesses along for each participant, with an eye toward preserving at least the possibility of an eventual treason prosecution."

The June 9, 1995 Wall Street Journal quoted an SEC complaint against New York Sun backer Bruce Kovner as saying Kovner had "altered and destroyed" subpoenaed evidence. We wish you'd do the same to the daily print run of your God-awful newspaper, Bruce.

Also, Professor G. Harlan Reynolds alleged on August 27, 2002 - when the Sun was several months in publication - that Seth Lipsky and Ira Stoll had not yet paid him for a piece authored for their inaugural issue.

Thursday, April 03, 2003

Contrary to popular belief (that belief being that no one ever talks about the Sun, present company excluded), Sethandira’s excellent adventure does manange to get play in some non-Sun related circles.

For example, on March 6, Linda Williamson of the Toronto Sun referred to the paper as “erstwhile Canadian Conrad Black's latest pipe dream” and called the Sun itself “thin and struggling.” No word on whether this will be a catch phrase in the new ad campaign.

The March 9 Philadelphia Inquirer provided the first salute in what is sure to be a volley of Sun first anniversary tributes. Lots of Seth quotes with a dash of Ira, and topping it all off Michael Wolff ("Influence? They haven't had any. They don't have a location on the media map," Wolff said. . . the Sun was hurt by an initial impression as "a terrible, amateurish small-town paper.") Fun fact: “The Sun staff believes that the Times sells 200,000 daily in Manhattan.” Which of course would make the Times a distant third in daily circulation in New York, unless the Post and Daily News are moving a lot of product in the rest of the nation. Another fun fact from this article: “While a daily Times can easily run to more than 100 pages, the Sun averages 18. Advertising is noticeably sparse.” Fun Ira quote: “If you just read the New York Times, you'd imagine New York was this kind of hotbed of knee-jerk, 1960s liberalism - antiwar protests, outraged homeless advocates, and civil libertarians worried about the police”. . . As an example of the Times' "self-satisfied, self-righteous, cloistered, far-left mind-set", Stoll characterized its approach to the homeless. A few years ago, when times were good and New York rents were escalating, he said, the Times did stories on how that was allegedly causing more homelessness. Now that the local economy has slumped, he said, and rents have stalled, the Times is still doing stories about the numbers of homeless increasing.” Ah, Ira’s compassion for the homeless. It truly shines for all.
Thank you for the introduction, Mr. Olivier. For the time being, the LFLS staff has been far too happy to pile on the menial labor, so I will not have time to say much anytime soon.

I do have one observation though. My time slinging rock has prepared me pretty well for the food pellet that is sethandira's little rag. There are differences between reading a god-awful newspaper and the drug life, though, the main three being that drugs are fun, make you feel good, and leave you wanting more.

Thanks to Sheriff Williamson, I have already started being scared straight. The Sun is a good example of just what terrible things a bunch of trust fund babies can do.

More from our little Midwestern town soon, as soon as I finish digging through these receipts. How did I end up doing Mr. Olson's taxes?

Wednesday, April 02, 2003
The storied LFLS compound (Pawnee, Illinois) had been reduced to a shambles. Our troubles began last November, when nearby Lincoln Land Community College told our Brad Olson that the practical education program which supplied seven interns out of ten was being discontinued. Absent the perquisite of college credits, we were only able to lure fevered ideologues, who, it must be said, are ill-suited to the menial tasks assigned interns. Can you imagine, say, Ira Stoll summoning strength enough from his flaccid and withered body to lift a ream of copier paper? With Brad Olson and I otherwise disposed, there was no one about to crack the whip over the remaining help. LFLS began taking on water, with readers writing to inquire if we were formulating plans to abandon ship.

Then came the proverbial intervention of fate - this time in the person of Neil Williamson of the Sangamon County Sheriff's Office. The good Sheriff had with him the first entrant of the County's scared straight program, a kid of seventeen who had squandered the better part of his sizeable trust fund on the rock. Would Brad Olson and I take the burden that was Quentin C. Robinson upon us? With NAFTA and the lunatic operations in Arizona's Cochise County driving the price of illegal Mexican labor to unacceptable heights, we of course assented, putting the young Mr. Robinson to work immediately.

Our expectations - realistically low - were easily exceeded by Mr. Robinson. On his first lunch break he invited Brad Olson and I out to the LFLS parking lot where he staged a low-rent Calvin-Butts-worthy symbolic break with his past, repeatedly riding his ten-speed over his collection of drug paraphernalia and Stanley knives. As for the job itself, Mr. Robinson took to the work like William Mauldin to a pack of matches and a bottle of accelerant. He was that good, receiving rapid and appropriate promotion.

Now fully conversant on relevant Justice Department matters, and thoroughly revolted from peeking over our shoulders at Seth and Ira's shitrag, Brad Olson and I hereby pronounce our charge ready for what passes for prime time here in the Midwest, and introduce Mr. Robinson to you all. He will be multi-tasking in the days to come, maintaining both his intern function and committing the odd scribble to this page.

You may fire when ready, Robinson.

Tuesday, April 01, 2003
Our friend Tim lives in New York, makes a good living, has a serious drinking problem, and manages to occasionally provide us with hard copies of The New York Sun via radio-facsimile. Today we got an email from him regarding the Sun’s new $800,000 branding campaign.

Hey guys--

So last night I saw a TV ad for the Sun during Letterman. It had some fat bald fuck (Seth?) on the subway reading that piece of shit, with some lame-ass theme song about “we’re gonna change the way you look at things” or some such bullshit- - the song sort sounded like the ad the WKRP staff recorded for the funeral home on that one episode. Also, there is a bright light shining from the inside of the paper as fake-Seth reads it; maybe it’s supposed to suggest “enlightening”, but to me it suggested, “that crazy arsonist Mauldin fucker is at it again!” Weak.

Monday, March 31, 2003
Another 800 grand down the toilet. But at least now “unaudited circulation is exceeding 25,000 copies.” Which is great for the Sun. . .although it would be an embarrassment for, say, El Diario, or Hoy.

Still, as the article puts it, “Seth Lipsky said even those who love The New York Times ‘like the idea of a paper with a different point of view.’” They certainly do.


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