newschannel, ad revenue, and salesmanship.

Accordion to THE Megyn Kelly, her old 9 pm hour Fox broadcast drew some 100 million annually in advertising dollars.

(The rest of this never happened.)

Shep was telling me about Journalist Kelly's Random Noise Generator.  I remember the day, cause she just had a flattened look in her eyes, really did.  One minute, Tripping on a Hole in a Paper Heart, next second, blippity-blop here comes Bernard Hermann and the previous meal has resurfaced onto your shirt.

She just had that look in her eye, and then what do you know?  There's a movie where her adapted character says, "We're gonna be the story?"

When the fifth seal was opened, out of the smoke came the great and terrible Sarah Palin, and chirped, "you betcha".

And there was a hydra crawled out of the sea, PT boats and Destroyers on the Normandy coast, the RonDonJohn, and one of the five heads was as if to die, and then the Nazi's were hiding the coat closet waiting on Kevin to ring them up.

Do we see some of this is inverse, reverse, obtuse, or footloose?  Do we say none of this ever happened, but to purely qualify the piece, some of this did happen, but who knows which or what, even the author(does he know?)?

"The blog that says the least entertains the best." said John Schubert Meal.

"The nationwide newschannel that informs the least, gets the MyPillow dollars", said another man, but this one of no fame.  "Because the audience is bored."

So I was talking about an inside job earlier, and I noticed, a splash without waves, my doleful spirit at rest looking at the rest of the thoroughfare and thinking how at cross-purposes it all seems, and none able to see far beyond themselves in the interim, and olive branches cause for pulled pruning hooks, and such.

A probability matrix, something altogether different from A.I., an actual neural network made out of some very pricey and antiquated vacuum tubes, and not too many Asian semiconductors, a probability matrix, a kind of spectrograph of thought, and kind of an ancient sort of 8-digit kind of thing that has co-related to perhaps, perhaps, every thing in the known world.

He reasoned all this, the originator, from his work shift, the doldrum of his workday, stocking shoes, arranging product on the shelves and so forth and even as he slept, that plastic smell of shoe soles, the plastic, rubber, and the dyes in the various fabric used in such.  A combined ambience for the meal proper of things that ring fake, insane, bombastic, but thinly-veiled, hidden yet, the real truth.

The I Ching, that's what it was.  And Nietzsche said, "blessed are the sleepy for they soon drop off."

"Where's the sacrificial ram, father?"

"The Lord will provide us a ram."

Breaking News: "Biden's Border Crisis" Lol.

Such as it was, in the days and the times, people were willing to manipulate even reality itself for the benefit of their own particular chosen teams, those people, to be perhaps, blissfully unaware of the core uselessness of the product, but to be only focused perhaps, on ad volume, and sales.  

Why, in the land of the volume sellers, I was perhaps like a local car salesman, geared more toward getting the client on my side and not just making a quick sale.  There was more empathy than profit motive at work, and in that model, the client would be mine first, such to the extent that if I switched organizations, switched workplaces, the customer would seek me out, and feel less of a loyalty to the establishment, but appreciate more the salesperson that largely dictates the sales experience almost entirely.

It's not a conscious design, but comes naturally; I've done it before, even in large retail stores, customers asking for the magic by name, the silk-drawered MKL that puts the birds in the trees and all, you know.

"A different kind of client experience."

Nebulose Nervosa or something or other, where the city salespersons try to dress extra sharp and they make the sale clinically, quickly and are soon adding commissions to their income.  The Ellis Island experience of new car buying.  Fie on that.