Jewish Journal

I drove my Timothy McVeigh-style van to the headquarters of the Jewish Journal Wednesday afternoon (3580 Wilshire Blvd). The back was filled with a special preparation of fertilizers designed for maximum bang. I scanned a few pages of The Turner Diaries, checked my watch, and leaped out on my one-man suicide mission against the Jewish Journal, the world's worst newspaper. It was do or die. Future generations will thank me. I felt like Ann Coulter vs The New York Times as I took the elevator up to meet editor Rob Eshman.