[T]o be guilty of theft, one must steal something of some intrinsic value... When the dreadful Jayson Blair egregiously stole the on-the-scene reporting of journalists who had been to crime scenes that Blair claimed to have been at but had not, that was indeed grand theft. But I contend you cannot steal something of no intrinsic value; say, a fart. Someone who steals a fart is a weird, disreputable person, perhaps, and even someone deserving of firing, perhaps, but not a thief. This is Mr. Benny Johnson...
Some months ago, I wrote about this awful genre, in which I ridiculed an otherwise smart and talented young BuzzFeed writer for her brainless, pointless, trawling-for-advertising paean to the wondrousness of Dunkin Donuts.
To look at these pieces and pretend they are journalism, and expect the same degree of due diligence from them is like is like going into a restaurant named "Eat, Pay, and Get The Hell Out" and being SHOCKED, SHOCKED to discover the french fries aren't made fresh on the premises.
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