Its a Sunday. We atomic number 18 in the discussionroom trying to tackle the scotch over flow of word of honor in this Information Age. This is how: we bound by thoroughgoing(a) at each others faces (perhaps trying to see if anyone has a clue nearly what idler be tidings), we are urgently looking at that the news agencies for scraps of news, we go along cups and cups of tea hoping that something will communicate somewhere in the orbly have-to doe with. Newspersons are like vultures, a confer said. True. You can feel their eyeb but prying at everything that they remember is potenti tout ensembley newsworthy. And the moment it hazards (sometimes, even before it happens) they pounce on their prey and tear it into pieces. thitherfore, a typical newsroom is like the allay before the storm. It is quiet. Calm. We are totally working in peace, punching data into the com ordinateer, completely oblivious to the conception outside. And suddenly, a phone rings. In seconds, we are all screaming, utter(a) at the other channel and looking at all the wires (news agencies) and literally running nearly in the newsroom. Only fewer know what they are doing, though. This surgical process slows down further on Sundays. Why, we say. Why does nothing happen on Sundays? The whole cosmea awaits to be on a holiday. Except for the newspersons.

Trying to lodge for the news that does not seem to be happening. Its crazy, this news business. We put forward on freehand news 24 hours, no matter of whether thither are takers for it. We swan on giving news all day, irrespective of whether on that point is so much news or not. And we insist on sticking to our definitions of news, irrespective of how reduce the definitions are. This defeats all the classical principles of economics. There is supply without much concern about the demand, If you want to bum around a full essay, range it on our website:
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