Some day my grandchildren will complain, "Why do we have to go to the moon again, it's so boring there." And I'll tell them, "You kids don't know nothing. In my day we where too poor to go to the moon. All we got to do was bomb it from space. And we LIKED it!"
Sorry, this guy is a fucking disgrace of a journalist. Maybe you think he's a great human being, maybe he should have a column somewhere, but you can't be a reporter and pull this shit, because if reporters start hurling shoes at the people they're trying to interview, then those people will very reasonably be reluctant to give such interviews. And if that's not important, then reporting as a whole can't be that important, and you should all go and get real jobs and hurl shoes as an extracurricular activity.
A professional does not assault the individual he or she is reporting on.* That's when you transition from journalist to revolutionary, which is dandy, but it is tangential to the profession of being an objective, empirical Journalist. Thanks for playing, Muntander! Hopefully prison didn't suck too bad.
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Cool.
(In Soviet Russia, moon lands on you.)
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How nature points up the folly of man
I bet some creature emerges from the innards of the moon and totally smites us.
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Get a clue, or go watch Transformers 2 again.
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*Exempt: Hunter S.