I would like to take this opportunity to announce the retirement of Hobart Meade, HowdyLand's longest-serving intern. At 92, Hobart has played many non-crucial roles here among the rambling office suites and interconnecting studios he has called his "second time-share." Though he is nearly out the door, we hope to continue overlooking Hobart's many contributions to The News From The Great Re-Depression for many years to come.

Having come through the Great Depression of the 1930s, Hobart soon became an indispensable sounding board within months of his arrival here from his previous internship in the break room at Netscape. When a story was pure crap, Hobart was always ready to look back upon his lifetime of unpaid employment and give our coverage the kind of authenticity we so often failed to summon from our focus groups, marketing people, and the Lehman Brother who mops our floors.

Indeed, we will miss the wide-ranging lack of expertise he brought to his non-job, not to mention all those whimsically eccentric mustaches he could apparently grow overnight. I am compelled here to note his many inspirational asides, like what he said just moments ago while handing over his keys: "Mr. Douglas," he said. "Greatness lurks beneath your very shoes."

You just can't pay a man to say those kinds of things.

Here at The News From The Great Re-Depression we have felt for the longest time like a lonely cliff awaiting a faraway herd, but today we hear the distant slap of cheaply manufactured footwear approaching. But as always, I have gotten ahead of myself.

Is it a weary habit of mind that leads to Huffington Post for daily updates about designer sand? Have we stayed and Gawked too long at too little for no reason? Do cats that look like Hitler ever start looking enough like Hitler to scare the holy crap out of you? Will I, Stan Douglas, dump the internet for that soon-to-be-famous girl who ended up with Chaz Bono's tits? Not likely.

No, we will remain right here, bringing you the latest cheerful news about the coming end of every trend and a new kind of meat people will grow in hampers. After all, it's the medium that's exhausted, not the message.