Fuck You, Rupert Murdoch

I finally got my chance.

I was a subscriber to The Wall Street Journal for a couple of years. Then Rupert Murdoch bought the paper. It distressed me. As expected, the editorial page has gotten even more religious-righty in nature than it had been.

To protest, I decided I wasn't going to renew my subscription. Big deal, right? So, for about three months, they've kept delivering the paper while billing me to get me to renew. I just never responded.

Finally, this week, they started calling. I thought the out-of-town number was a political robo-call but after a few times I decided to answer it. The telemarketer had her schpeal down pat. I let her go on and on.

"I'm not interested," I said when she made a quick stop to take a breadth.

Then she had even more benefits she was willing to throw in at no charge. Mind you, this paper ain't cheap.

"Sorry, no."

"What can I do to change your mind," she asked.

"Nothing. I won't be back until Rupert Murdoch sells the paper and I don't expect that will happen anytime soon."

"Oh," and then she hung up. And the deliveries stopped the next day.

It won't make any difference because I'm sure that what Y|O|Y thinks isn't on Murdoch's radar. Still, I kinda hope she had a check box on the screen that she could mark next to my name to register my opinion.

Fuck you, Rupert Murdoch.