How quickly this world has changed. One minute we've got 7 newspapers floating around, Warmonger launching ill-fated media networks, Georgette making ill-timed returns from editorial retirement, and every corner exploding into an ink-stained, lobster-stinking war zone of glorious journalistic debauchery. And now? Not an article in sight; 9 new discussions in 15 days. 

The newsmen who shared with us the latest insights into the Durden War, Vday arriving, Vday going (all TommyVitale scoops) and in the case of one publication, cutting edge reporting of things that happened a month before, have rapidly fallen silent. The streets are quiet, Warmonger still hasn't purchased any papers - more on that later - Georgette and all her surnames have put their pencils back in their pots, and sadder still, The Trials of Arthur wasn't left on the cutting room floor and made it out for public consumption. 

Several things have happened which has led to this beloved mass media coverage being taken away from us.

Gillian killed about 8 generations of the prolific Cyrax lineage then stopped producing her own paper after 1 issue. To a greater extent, Warmonger announced his commitment to the news, then failed to protect the good name of the Saddle Newsflash and let it instead fall into the rein-worn, callused palms of that idiotic, self-appointed, horse-lusting vigilante, StreetSheriff. He, in turn, folded the oldest and longest-running paper on the Streets with a triumphant gap-toothed smirk on his droopy, Snoopy-looking, wannabe-cowboy, half-tanned and all-stupid face whilst he did it. And then, after dismantling a bona fide mob news behemoth, he took a potshot at some no name for $20m and got stamped into mush. 

My hands were tied by basketball and newspaper bureaucracy and when the most senior newsman and former #1 VIP needed everyone else to step up and keep the news churning, they instead let Hot Tub jokes and Poke-cular pass as wordplay on our streets without ridicule. The fat cats in The Mafia Newspaper and Basketball Oversight Committee were asleep at the wheel, crashed the car and not even a Harold slipped out. 

Now, despite what many of you might be thinking having heard what they are referring to this discussion as (Warmonger's fault, basically), I'm not looking to pin this on anyone and I don't want to point fingers, even though some people around here definitely have blood on their hands - Warmonger - I instead want to ask what has happened to us? We should be ashamed. Shame. Shame on all of us. We had a beautiful thing going and ok, in the case of one publication that thing was promised, failed to be delivered on time, and belatedly got pushed out after the self-imposed deadline, but it was at least almost news. How else would I have gotten the hot take on what Spacepole had done the month prior without it being rehashed as due to having been a result of "an immense amount of the female hormone that causes PMS" being found in his system by "lots of doctors"?  

The short and curlies of it are that I would not. How many other such breakthroughs and lazy stereotypes have been missed by a lack of proper media scrutiny? What's Ruffian really doing out in the woods? Why's Transistor so hot for $80m from Kuku? Why are all of these things actually Warmonger's fault?

This ladies and gentlemen is what brings me back to the Streets now that my punishment has been served. In a time where we've had 9 original discussions this month (3 of which are by the Kuku line and 1 was The Trials of Arthur), how do we arrest this shocking decline? Is a newspaper the answer? Would seven be better? Or, is it time for a REAL 'Leader of the Streets' to return and guide us from the darkness as they have so many times before?

Your thoughts, please. 

She nodded her head, "Look, if you had to write out my name 2-3 times in one volume, you'd take a break from it too." Georgette said. 

"But, now that the weekend is here, and my day job has calmed slightly I may consider penning the next volume. I did indeed start the other day, but then something shiny caught my attention and I quickly moved on from that whim." 

I have been told by multiple credible sources that Harold (or, as his nickname went, MonobrowedMenace) was INCREDIBLY HARD AT WORK chasing what had the potential to be the biggest scoop in the history of Mafia Journalism.

Now the tragic part of this is that he had hinted to his boss, Transistor, that he would let him have a sneak preview of THE SCOOP, thereby letting him "in on the secret". However Transistor grew incredibly impatient, and then proceeded to stuff a sleeping MonobrowedMenace into a live printing press, forcefully ending his life (ruining a perfectly working printing press in the process).

Will we ever know what this HOT SCOOP entailed? I don't know. I am just a JohnDough relaying rumours that I've heard from my taxi driver.

how do we arrest this shocking decline? Is a newspaper the answer? Would seven be better? Or, is it time for a REAL 'Leader of the Streets' to return and guide us from the darkness as they have so many times before?

I think a Leader of The Streets could help, but a suitable candidate would have to be found. It's not an easy task by any means, and it takes strong shoulders to carry such a heavy duty/burden.

What would a Leader of the Streets do? How would they be chosen? Is it a democratic process? Is the job paid or pro bono? Perhaps we need some sort of Leader of the Streets-themed newspaper to clarify the details? I would have reservations nominating you for the role, SF, as any casual observer of the Streets can see that clearly Warmonger is not allowed to speak unless Transistor does first, so I'm not sure you're on the right path here with the blame game. 

Mill. He has me on a tight leash. Send help.

Transistor awoke, eyes wide, recognizing the sound he heard from afar. Had Warmonger spoke without his permission? Without him speaking first. It couldn't be. It was not allowed.

Transistor jumped up, pizza in hand to find the aforementioned sound.

That motherfucker.

Transistor searched in the bathroom. Nothing. Transistor searched in the kitchen. Nothing. Transistor searched in the back yard. Nothing.

Transistor made his way out the front door to find a discussion between someone who used to be relevant back when they made content for the streets, a newspaper editor, and someone who took a cab once. His eyes darted around until he found Warmonger.

HEY!

Are you hungry? I'm starving. Let's get some grub.

Warmonger nods at Transistor, dropping his head as he falls into line. He peers back, waving his arms around discreetly but it was too late... The decision was made. It was food time now.

"Thanks for nothing, Mill!" Warmonger scoffed quietly to himself.

Come on pal it's time for some food.

Transistor peers back at Mill with a serious face as his bodyguard Niko scruffs his hair. The three turn the corner.

Hard to ignore the shiny objects, Georgette. You have my sympathy. Just this morning I was minding my own business, deciding whether or not today was going to be the day that I finally dipped a tentative toe back into the news-media landscape, when something gleaming outside the window caught my eye. It was my man, Samuel, the sun reflecting off his glasses as he frantically waved a note backwards and forwards like some sort of ugly, glinting chicken trying to get my attention. There were admittedly much easier methods that he could have employed; the telephone or knocking on the door perhaps, but the man wasn't on the payroll for his quick thinking. Fortunately he did have one of his ears close to he ground, so when he eventually did make his way inside, I was saddened to learn that someone wanted me dead with a quickness again, this time to the tune of ten million big ones. Anyway, we digress and shiny, bad.

John, you seem like the type of man who knows a things or two and that fat honker of a misnomer which you call a nose could probably sniff out a story or two. Have you ever thought about getting into the newspaper business? 

Mill, you need to listen clearly to what is being said. I am not blaming anyone. I mean sure, if we look at the evidence available then it is absolutely clear that Warmonger should be out here prostrating himself and offering penance for crimes, but it isn't for me to point the finger at anyone. Even if that should be clearly at Warmonger.

There have been a few fabled Leaders of the Streets in the past, who have generally steered discourse and helped facilitate activity. I wasn't seeking the nomination myself as I must accept my own role in how we got here (I mean clearly my fault is a lot less than Warmonger's but I still have to take some responsibility), and I'm not even sure we need one, but it might help?