I’ve been receiving the YES! straight-to-the-trash “newspaper”
for about half a year now. I never asked for it. I never, not once heard from
the Idaho Statesman (a Gannett company) about whether or not I wanted it (they
allege that a previous resident at my address gave them permission). But twice
a week, it showed up any-damn-way, a pile of pink bagged garbage, a condomized
collection of junk mail just sitting in my yard, daring me to defy it.
For a long time I just took it straight to the recycle bin
(hey, evil conservatives with libertarian leanings can recycle, too). I would sometimes
be outside and hear a thwack! sound
and turn just in time to see the delivery person drive away with me trying to
call out to them, “Hey! I don’t want that!” But to no avail.
I finally Googled the title of the supplement. What did I
find out? Why, only that it’s a nationwide nuisance. There are people in places
other than Boise that are just as befuddled as I am about this
direct-to-your-door advertisement poopstorm. What’s funny is that, of course,
you can find all kinds of links that point to how you can susbscribe to YES! and the blurb text gives me the impression that
by God I ought to be excited about it! There are exclamation marks everywhere!
There are words like dynamic and yippity zippity! Okay, maybe not that, but you
get the idea.
Anyway, I finally found the number to call. It’s the Idaho Statesman
subscription desk. It’s 208.377.6200, just FYI. And it’s public information, so
I’m not breaking any rules in regard to disclosure. I’m just trying to save you
the pop-up pain of navigating the Stateman’s Web site—clearly they’re desperate
for revenue (maybe the majority of people are sick of reading “news” that’s
really just the left’s opinion on how we’re supposed to think). If you call this
number and tell them you don’t want YES! anymore, they’ll be happy to
unsubscribe you. But if you tell them how outrageous their business practices
are, they’ll transfer you to the supervisor. Now that’s service.
But wait, there’s more. Because there are other people out
there across the fruited plain who have tried to unsubscribe from YES! as well.
These people have spoken to the subscription departments of their local
broadsheets and they’re still, guess what, getting a large pink turd dropped on
their lawn twice a week. So be ready for a fight.
I told the Statesman that their direct delivery junk mail
constituted a security risk to my family. No, really. Because what if I’m on
vacation, okay? And what if the pink turd patrol continues to drop two bombs
per week in my absence? Astute criminals will be able to deduce, a la Home Alone, that my house is ripe for
the picking. And I ain’t having that.
I think it’s a commentary on where we’re at as a society
when our newspapers can bully us into calling them for relief. Clearly, they’re
desperate for a world that no longer exists; a world where they mattered. They’ve
been reduced to schlepping used cars and appliances and blue light specials via
ad supplements no one wants. I find it hilarious, in the end, and I rejoice in
the demise of what has amounted to a powerhouse, for decades, of the American
left (it’s also beautifully ironic that these socialists have to turn to
capitalism to save them).
The Statesman’s harassment has been, perversely, at least a
little instructive. I’ll keep you updated on whether or not they continue to
shat on my lawn. Shades of the occupy movement? Oh, yes. I think so.
