Rupert Murdoch finally got his dirty wish: he made the Bancroft Family an offer they could not refuse. After months of bloody wrangling, Murdoch now owns a powerful 62% controlling interest in the brains of all human beings.
With $5 billion on the table, Bancroft fought Bancroft. They wept, they rended their Hermès garments and gnashed their laminated teeth. They consulted with their bankers, lawyers, Wall Street advisors and other economic land sharks (who were all rumored to have been paid off by Murdoch’s News Corporation, thus ensuring that the hapless, feeble-minded Bancrofts would be poorly advised) because they really had no deep knowledge of what they owned or how it worked.
The head Bancroft, Christopher, put up a good fight to selling out his family paper to the Prince of Lies. But ultimately, Christopher’s brother, Hugh Bancroft, his niece, champion equestrienne Elizabeth Goth Chelberg, and a host of other weak-willed, sniveling, ninny Bancrofts forced the principled members of the family to buckle under to their whinging self-interests. The Bancrofts took the fat dollar, turned out Dow Jones & Company like a Ukrainian swimsuit model, welched on their own family motto (“Never sell Grandpa’s paper”), and sold one of the last great enclaves of independent American journalism down the river, to the Dark Lord.
Now, the front page of the Wall Street Journal will have elegant ink dot hedcut illustrations of Britney’s torso-cellulite, boobies on page 6, and lots of domestic propaganda about how patriotic it is to bomb foreign countries and loot them.
Elizabeth Goth Chelberg, in the meantime, according to the Monnington-Morgans UK website, was recently congratulated for her purchase of a “wonderful Five Gaited Stallion” named “Calif First Night Out.”
Hey! Enjoy that pony, Elizabeth. It only cost your fellow Americans a massive step backward in their ability to make informed decisions based on anything resembling ontological Truth, for generations to come.
Ride the pretty pony. Ride, ride, ride. Pretty, pretty, pony.
The late Christopher Reeve lost his spine horseback riding, but apparently there’s more than one way.
But hey: Elizabeth really needed a new pony, and her needs are important too. We shouldn’t saddle her with too much blame, or declare she suffers from galloping, unbridled greed or anything.
And maybe we shouldn’t worry so much. Giving Rupert Murdoch custody of another major news outlet is probably no more irresponsible, than, say, giving NFL quarterback Michael Vick several hundred unwanted puppies, or Lindsay Lohan an Evian bottle full of Gray Goose and a new driver’s license.
Too bad the older, smarter Bancrofts didn’t cut off their heirs the way Brandon “Greasy Dear” Davis’s oil tycoon family recently cut him off.
Sudden poverty will be an interesting change for Brandon, whose career, up to now, has primarily consisted of getting extremely drunk and loaded in hotels on hyperextended credit cards and saying disparaging things about the genitalia of starlets he has had sex with.
Tragedies can be good for spoiled, lazy, self-indulgent little girls like Brandon Davis. Just look at Paris Hilton, who as we know, found God and vowed to become smart after a short stint in prison. Hunger artist Nicole Richie, too, has seen the errors of her ways, now that she’s knocked-up and going to the pokey for driving on Vicodin.
“I owe this baby my life,” Richie told Diane Sawyer on Good Morning America.
“I have a responsibility now for someone else. I have to set the right examples. I want to be the best parent I can be. I would really want to be someone my child would look up to.”
While parenthood didn’t work as an instant shaper-upper for Britney Spears or Anna Nicole Smith or Dina Lohan – or, apparently, any of the Bancrofts –poverty seems to be the Great Rehabilitator. It seems to have inspired a plucky usefulness in former rich girl Tori Spelling, who now runs a bed & breakfast and performs gay weddings.
Perhaps Brandon Davis can become a janitor for the Chateau Marmont, after he gets out of jail, and heal his place in society by cleaning up messes similar to so many he’s made.
Maybe Elizabeth Goth Chelberg will have a “come to Jesus moment” after her guilty conscience causes her to DUI her new stallion into a Bentley. Perhaps the Equestrian Highway Patrol will find large quantities of unknown substances in her jodhpurs – like, a wallet full of bills in denominations so large that few mortals have ever seen them.
But, as 78-year-old Gil Won-ok told the New York Times, “Truth survives and lies never win.” Won-ok is a South Korean woman who was forced to be a sex-slave for the Japanese military during World War II.
Those are damned optimistic words for an old lady who has yet to receive a formal apology from the Japanese government for raping her. Kudos, Gil Won-ok. Elizabeth Chelberg should buy YOU a pony.
And then she should go to jail.