Sorry, but I despise them

What a month... March brought us snow up to our knees! Just when everyone had Spring on their heads already. The new year is beginning to show its teeth...

I was wondering these days if journalism is still for me. It’s difficult not to get cynical now all the reasons why I once wanted to be part of it - part of the little army of those who write about what’s going on in the world, because they really have to; because they feel the deep need to inform their public at the best possible way they can – seem to get crushed by the ones in power that really don’t give a shit. Not about what journalism should be about, not about our readers, not about anything.
I write for the oldest newspaper in the world (its history goes all the way back to 1656!) and that IS something to be proud of. But, apparently without any regrets, management and chief editors are very busy turning this paper into a insult in print. It breaks my heart.
And the grass isn’t too much greener on the other side this time. As we know for sure since this week eight local newspapers in The Netherlands will disappear on very short notice because of a money-driven but unnecessary newspaper merger to bring forth Holland’s second biggest newspaper that nobody has asked for. My heart goes out to my colleagues at Rotterdams Dagblad. They have shown this week that their journalists hearts are still in the right place - even now that it is been torn out.

Is journalism still for me? I think so. I refuse to let that be taken away by heartless shit-heads who’s only interest is the thickness of their own wallets. Sorry, but I despise them.