Failure of the market

Seriously - the absence of a strong replacement for Fafblog (and, indeed, the fact that they were able to maintain themselves as the "world's only source for Fafblog" - I mean, shouldn't another source for Fafblog, perhaps outsourced to India or to those Warquest mining camps in China and other low-wage labor areas of the world brought us Fafblog, but even more freely?) seriously suggests that the market isn't all-knowing, all-seeing as Thomas Friedman makes it out to be.

I miss Fafblog. Rarely have I laughed harder than at the tragi-comedic stylings there, tackling the absurdities of our current politics dead on. And being able to laugh at them, well, that helped me be able to think about them as less insurmountable, as less formidable, and as something that I could actually do something about offline.

Sitting on my desk chair on a Sunday afternoon.
Listening to the three of them debate.
Laugh about it, shout about it
When you've got to choose
Every way you look at this you lose.

Where have you gone, Medium Lobster,
Our nation turns it's lonely eyes to you.
What's that you say, Mr. Fafnir.
Giblets has left and gone away,
Hey hey hey.

May the road always rise to meet you
May the wind be always at your back
May the sun shine warm upon your face
May the rains fall soft upon your fields
And until your blog again,
May God hold you in the hollow of his hand.

They are and will be missed. Godspeed to the author of Fafblog.