in, "there's a bathroom on the right," or "'scuse me, while I kiss
this guy." But since I think the lyric I'm hearing is brilliant, I
refuse to investigate its accuracy, I will instead quote it directly:
"This time o' night's for singin' songs 'bout the local news." They
do, on the same album, sing "Comin' on strong, Baudelaire," so I do
have some reason to believe my impression correct.
I will be contributing absolutely nothing to the raging river of
human knowledge by complaining about the local news. But I do feel
compelled to respond after seeing a particular episode the other
night. It may have been a rerun; I'm not sure. It sounded
The only reason I was caught watching the local news in the first
place is that it comes on after Everwood, um, I mean, at halftime.
Ok, you caught me. We all have our secrets. I have a regular response
to the local news, which is to turn it off. This particular brand of
local news opens with "It's 10 o'clock, do you know where your
children are?" Normally, once the second required to overcome the
creepy depravity of this prologue passes, I issue my routine retort,
which is, "No, but I do know where my remote is."
I didn't do that on this occasion because, in fact, I did not know
where the remote was. While I was threshing the bed sheets in search
of it, and then while I was moving it to my outstretched hand using
budding Jedi powers, the first story came on.
Tomorrow: The Local News, Part 2: BRAZEN ASSAULT