by Kerry Marsala
September 22, 2004
When you sign up today with the P J Club (pajama club) you'll get full rights to espouse your ideals, opinions and investigations via the World Wide Web. The P J Club is open to all that love the free flow of information and value what our founding fathers valued and that is- freedom of speech.
The P J Club isn't pretentious. We don't require silk pajamas, cotton ones are just fine. Your Pj's don’t have to have your initials embroidered upon them, unless of course you can't remember your name…then by all means. We don't require a Harvard Law Degree or a journalistic pedigree. You don’t have to have a full head of hair, suit, or a tie squeezing ever so slightly at your throat to give your eyes a strained studious bugged look. You know what, you don’t even have to wear pajamas to belong. That’s right- if you desire to sit butt naked and type your dissertation of exposes on your home computer that is okay with us--we just ask that you leave your video camera in the off position.
It would seem bloggers, ezine journalist, and editorialist via the net are causing a wave of elitist fit throwers to spin their large craniums of, how dare anyone else have an opinion who hasn’t attended the school of stuck up journalism, into a bit of a quagmire. The pajama writers are becoming known to be a troublesome bunch. Is it possible that they are all from a "far-right wing" group? These pajama wearing people who like to "think" of themselves as journalist are probably nothing more than white anglo-Saxon protestant's who have several loaded shot guns in their homes and in their Chevy 4x4's. They all are probably card-carrying members of the NRa too. They certainly didn't receive an education beyond the sixth grade and are so bassackwards in anything cultural, social or political that they are the next big danger to this country and her freedoms since the end of the Cold War. Why I bet these pj wearers probably even type their investigations and editorials on a computer from the early 1980's and it still has the atari version of centipede downloaded on it.
Now personally as a card-carrying member of the P J Club, and most others like me, subscribe to several newspapers worldwide. I have become a political, social and cultural junky. Most of the time the news leans so far to one side and is so convoluted with worthless fodder that this is what it becomes in my household…I have several birds…hence I need cage bottom covers. Though I do believe Jefferson prophetically saw the use of the newspapers and their biases long before the revolution of the P J Club came into existence. Thomas Jefferson stated, "Newspapers...serve as chimnies to carry off noxious vapors and smoke." Can anything be said more succinctly?
The pomposity of news anchors on TV (Dan Rather, Walter Cronkite, Katie Couric, and for a brief moment of hallucinating grandeur…Bill O'Reilly) has really begun to crumble for what these demagogue's think of themselves as they love to look down upon the little people. How dare we as the common people rise up and let our voices be heard! Funny thing is when this elitist group became so wrapped in themselves they forgot what Laura Ingraham termed, "They forgot who brought them to the dance." Truer words have not been spoken quite so symphonically. When you forget who brought you to where you are now and you decide you've outgrown your "dance partner" more often than not your date with destiny will leave you alone, all by yourself, because your got to big for your journalistic britches. ask these pompous journalists how it feels to be all by yourself in your own little world of "perfect me." These elitist still have their club, most are connected with the Hollywood elite's, but what happens when a group of snobs gets together? Think back to your high school days. Remember the upper class snobs? They'd all be buddy, buddy when you were in their world, but the moment you stepped out and went to go grab a coke you became the conversation of gossip. Back stabbers is what spins the world of elitist snobs and their world is blood letting itself quicker than imagined.
Those who belong to the P J Club don’t pretend to have all the answers. We can't and we never will. So who is it that makes up the P J Club? Well, many of us have master's degrees in a wide range of subjects. Most of us hold down regular jobs and drive a compact car. Many of us have families and are happily married. Some of us don't even own a gun. There are those of us who are Christian, agnostic, atheists, Muslim, Buddhist and a gamut of other followings too numerous to name. We are an open minded group of people though who love the exchange of ideas, the free flow of opinions and the ability to cut through the murky waters of media biases that plague the information highways. There will be times those of us in the P J Club will be wrong, but when we are wrong it will not crush us and cause us to run, hide and lie our way out. When a member of the P J Club places themselves above the common man and becomes a legend in their own mind- then they have withdrawn their own membership and have created their own little world of elitist snobbery.
Yes, perhaps the elite's of the journalistic world should be worried that their little world of--our club only--is disintegrating around them quickly. The P J Club is here to stay, our cause is larger than we are and you cannot muzzle a human from speaking and writing what they believe to be true. The union of elitist journalism is dead, the P J Club is here to break the bonds of tyranny the elitist journalist have tried to ink blot this world into believing. Our pens, typewriters, and computer keyboards have become the tools needed to expose the biased skewed print of the media.
Sign on today, the P J Club is open to all that love free speech and the freedom to exchange ideas, investigate, and espouse truths.
(Kerry L. Marsala writes for www.americonservative.com, www.azconservative.org Opinion Editorials; assistant Editor of the GOPUSa/arizona; Independent Newspapers and is a regular contributor to Sarah's Seed Woman's Journal; Focus Magazine and The Truth Magazine. During the 80s Ms. Marsala worked as a freelance photojournalist for The Rock Revue and Newsreel Magazine. Writing about cultural, social and political ideologies by using a bit of satire every now and again helps keep her grey cells stirring. Her philosophy remains that no matter the event, you can always find a bit of humor or the human element of hope somewhere amongst the cracks.)
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