Note to the Wall Street Journal

Sydney Brillo Duodenum, after long and careful consideration, and taking into full account his spoiled nature and demand that all things be efficient, right and functional, and with complete understanding that "media" cannot stand still and certain age-proven models of information presentation need to be questioned and reshaped now and then, is of the firm opinion that the new Wall Street Journal web site sucks owl pellets. What was once the equivalent of Clint Eastwood in Gran Torrino - a wizened, experienced no nonsense man beating down punks with his simplicity and understanding of timelessness of certain human values has morphed into a fat, lethargic, overfed, Hawaiian shirt wearing guy from New Jersey standing in the middle of Main Street, Disney World, sucking on a soda while studying a map and making it difficult for everyone to get their fastpasses to their favorite ride and stake out a position on the parade route. Slow does not begin to describe this lumbering unresponsive over served beast, and network connections, user error, browser choice nor a generally dyspeptic cranky attitude explain the problem.

There is but one thing to be said: Fuck You, Rupert Murdoch. Other than this small quibble about the utility of one of the great tools of western civilization, you're doing a great job.