Ever suspected that by and large journalists are witless hacks with no particular qualifications for their jobs besides knowing how to operate a keyboard, a telephone or a hairbrush? You are — again, by and large — not wrong. Observe, if you dare, the native behaviors of this clutch of baby journalists. (Suppose there’s some way of finding the nests and spraying the eggs with oil?)

ACK! I knew it — whatever this recurring cold is, I’m catching it at the office. The interns use my computers when I’m out and they’re giving me cooties. If I tell the office manager, do you suppose she’ll okay the purchase order for a pack of antibacterial wipes, or will she tell me to simply boil the interns ’til they’re germ-free?

Margaret Schwartz over at PopMatters is in her thirties and noticing that, well, we’re all getting sort of culturally invisible. Embrace it, Margaret! Fly! Be free! Sneer at low-rise jeans and laugh at teenage conformity obsessions! Buy that copy of Freaks and Geeks on DVD! Quote the Blues Brothers! Life begins now!