The Complete Tales presents: Tales of a Lifetime Episode 3
A Golden Age of Death
I have two options: Himmler orders extermination of Polish ghettos or Man announces new Draft Bill. History will undeniably remember the former, but the later is more important in the here-and-now; if it goes through, another boatload, another generation of our City’s sons, will be sent off to the great European meat-grinder. Both justify the entire front page, and I have good pictures for both.
I am crushed, made indecisive by the weight of history upon me. I feel like I shall be judged by my choice, right here, right now… but I feel like that every day, now, as more and more history-changing headlines mount on my desk, as the world slips gently from the old and into the new, and all I can do is watch and report on it.
Forgive me. I have lapsed into rhetoric, as I am told, all newspaper reporters do as they get older. We are frustrated that our talents must constantly be lowered to meet the expectations and understanding of our readership, who we struggle to educate just a little at a time, and who’s nature it is to stubbornly resist, flipping straight to page 14 and the society and gossip columns. Ooh look, they’ll be saying tomorrow. Jorro Piorelli’s big society wedding. Pipo Fiorelli’s increasingly blatant homosexuality. Karen O’Maley working long hours with the Man? You know what that means… And all the while, this City gets dirtier.
Even under the Families, the streets were clean. Under the families, there were never rats under the printing press. There was no printing press under the Families… but there were no rats either, that’s my point.
I’m forty-five soon, and I’m getting old. The gold leaf on the door, saying Lance Capri – Editor… Editor of the largest paper in Ocean’s Peak and surrounding districts, the best region rag in the entire States, all mine… it’s fading, and pealing, and there isn’t the money or the time to get in redone, and what’s worse is… I don’t care. It’s not about the paper any more, it’s about the City. The Piorellis are coming back into the ascendancy, the Man is playing dirtier by the day, and the Fiorelli’s are sure to rear their ugly heads again soon, but the only thing that’s between them and the people is me, and sometimes, it seems like the people just don’t care. I’ve got two kids now, and I tell myself it’s for them, but it’s not. I know it’s not, but I say it anyway.
Ocean’s Peak Tribune
June 13th, 1943
HIMMLER EXTERMINATES POLISH JEWS
Full story Page 2
Man’s Draft Bill page 4