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Peter Rost, M.D., is a former Pfizer Marketing Vice President providing services as a medical device and drug expert witness and pharmaceutical marketing expert. Judge Sanders: "The court agrees with defendants' view that Dr. Rost is a very adept and seasoned expert witness." He is also the author of Emergency Surgery, The Whistleblower and Killer Drug. You can reach him on rostpeter (insert symbol) Please read the terms of use agreement and privacy policy for this blog carefully.

The Huffington Rost

First an apology, the trickle of e-mails from readers have increased so much that I have a hard time keeping up. I'm reading them all, but I can't always respond to all the great suggestions you have for my blog.

Second, one of my readers has worked hard during 4th of July. Here is the result: The Huffington Rost. It is well worth checking out!

And finally, the last two weeks and even more so the last few days have been a weird place to be, especially if you were me. You know, weird, like a strange dream you wake up from. Only when I read The Huffington Rost and check my own postings I realize it is not a dream. But it sure feels like it.

I'd very much like to get back to reality and I hope both the people who like and dislike this blog will too.

Finally, the last few weeks have been an amazing public display in human behavior which demonstrates how both corporations and dictatorships operate; based on fear.

Out of 700 bloggers or so on HuffPo only one came to my defense, Gutfeld in his post Nuts About The Huffington Post! And he could get away with it because he used humour and was very careful about what he said about Arianna.

The rest didn't dare lifting a finger out of fear of losing their blogging priviliges. A few of them commented on other blogs . . . and also used very careful words when speaking about Arianna. But they did not comment on HuffPo.

This is how employees act and are expected to act when it comes to the CEO of a company, or the Boss, and this is how enslaved people act and are expected to act under a dictator.

The difference between the two is that employees can always quit.

Or so they say.

Reality is that there aren't that many jobs out there so employees often can't quit.

And so it continues, with men enslaving other men, the way they've done this since the beginning of time.


Blogger insider said...


Maybe "The Huffington Roast" might be appropriate! ;-)

Blogger MsMelody said...


What an excellent introduction for this "toast" on corporate media. It seems MSM isn't the only one(s) guilty of prostitution. I guess what truly amazed me, though, was that this "toast" was offered in 1953!

"Here's one terrific example. John Swinton, the former Chief of Staff for the New York Times, was one of New York's best loved newspapermen. Called by his peers "The Dean of his Profession", John was asked in 1953 to give a toast before the New York Press Club, and in so doing, made a monumentally important and revealing statement. He is quoted as follows:

"There is no such thing, at this date of the world's history, in America, as an independent press. You know it and I know it. There is not one of you who dares to write your honest opinions, and if you did, you know beforehand that it would never appear in print. I am paid weekly for keeping my honest opinion out of the paper I am connected with. Others of you are paid similar weekly salaries for similar things, and any of you who would be so foolish as to write honest opinions would be out on the streets looking for another job. If I allowed my honest opinions to appear in one issue of my paper, before twenty-four hours my occupation would be gone. The business of the journalists is to destroy the truth; to lie outright; to pervert; to vilify; to fawn at the feet of mammon, and to sell his country and his race for his daily bread. You know it and I know it, and what folly is this toasting an independent press? We are the tools and vassals of rich men behind the scenes. We are the jumping jacks, they pull the strings and we dance. Our talents, our possibilities, and our lives are all the property of other men. We are intellectual prostitutes."

Blogger beeta said...

Here is the latest I saw on THP, a couple of comments by readers on Arianna's article "Who killed the electric car?"

How about asking "Who Killed the Huffpo?" istead?
I've had little time to visit Huffpo recently but it seems something is terribly wrong here. I,ve done some research and discovered there was some controversy a while back over Dr. Peter Rost's Blog. He was fired because he was "abusing" his privilege or something?
I read a staffer at Huffpo- Andy Yacomink- was also involved? Attacking Rost's posts etc? Was yacomink booted too? I also read the Best of feature has also been dropped because of the controversy. (Despite the fact Arianna says it's IMPOSIBLE to abuse.) Am I missing something?
It seems to me Huffpo has been going downhill fast since it's anniversary in May. The icreasing traffic of Trolls has turned what was once a bed of roses into a field of poison ivy. (This of coarse is the intention of all Trolls everywhere.)
And while I have no trouble fathoming the shallow thought processes of individuals who not only utilise offensive names, but more importantly add nothing to the debate. I cannot comprehend Huffpo's lack of action regarding their presence. Anyone with a garden knows what happens when you don't eliminate the weeds.
Am I the only regular who finds it increasingly difficult to find reasons to continue visiting the huffington Post? Who feels the entire enterprise may have jumped the shark?
Where did all the weeds come from and where in hell is the gardner? What happened to my favorite Blog site?
By:Scottishscript on July 05,2006 at 7:17 am
And then there was a comment by BUBBY that basically agreed with the above comment.

Blogger beeta said...

Can't believe Ken Lay just died! of a heart attack!

Blogger shooter said...

Great point, Doc. Let me share a quick little story with you illustrating your point. You know how the older you get, little seemingly insignificant incidents, at the time , stay with you the rest of your life?

Many years ago, in a little country schoolhouse in rural upstate New York, I attended grammer school, where 6th. grade teacher, Mrs. Summers was both teacher and principal. This was before Vice-Principals, aides, tharapists, administrators, grief counselers, and other sundry educational alchemists. Due to the great variety of students, from future asro-physicists to mountain "Deliverence types", and to maintain discipline, Mrs. Summers ruled with an iron hand. One of her devices was to invoke the rule, "if you tell the truth, you will never be punished." So if she suspected you of wrong-doing, she would stare at you with those laser-like steely eyes, paralyzing you in your seat, and boomed that dread-producing question, "Shooter, I'm only going to ask you this once, did you or did you not commit this, whatever, trangression?" Ostensibly, the forced cathartic experience of "fessing-up" was more effective than the other forms of punishment.

Well, one day, while Mrs. Summers was out of the room, the kids were all abuzz about how unfair her practice of picking her little "pets" to do certain errands and other such fun stuff. To a person they were all chattering and appalled at the hypocracy of her oft-repeated claim " I don't ever play favorites!" Hearing her black, ankle-high granny heels, clicking down the hall, everyone rushed back to their seats, hands folded on desks, eyes looking down, and halos in place. Upon entering the room, Mrs. Summers immediately noticed something was amiss. She asked, "what's going on?" Nothing but quizzicle, angelic, cherub faces responded. Frustrated, she turned to me and said, "Shooter, you know better than to defy me, what's going on?" So, after a giant gulp, I stammered, "well, sometimes it does seem like you play favorites, contrary to what you always tell us." Confident in my bravery, and secure in the fact that I was speaking for everbody, I stared at her with that smug smirk only a 12 yr old can produce.

Mrs. Summers turned her glaring gaze from me and asked the room, "does anyone else feel that way?" Afraid to look up, the deadly silence hinted to me what was coming. One by one, she asked my classmates. "Johnnie, do you feel that way?" "No, Mrs. Summers."
"Betty?" "No, Mrs. Summers." " Butchie, Arthur, Jeannie," and so on 32 times. I was dead, a 12 yr. old cadaver. Next came, "Timmie, go to the closet and get my paddle! " ( the "paddle" was of the ping-pong type, well worn after many generations of use ) "Shooter, get up here!! You know the drill." Assuming " the position" bending over, hands on chalk tray, I learned the life-long lesson of friends and loyalty, when you take an unpopular position.

My red ass has recovered. I never made that mistake again. Doc, you never had "friends" at HuffPo. You do here.

Blogger Peter Rost said...

Shooter: Wow. What a story. And what a true reflection of humanity.

Blogger shooter said...

Wow!, and double Wow!! I caught the Boss's ear. As the great philosopher, theologian, and con-artist, "Reverend Ike" said a long time ago, " from a mustard seed............."

Let's go slay us some fuck'n Dragons, Doc.

Blogger shooter said...

I got so excited, I lost my brains. Sorry for the profanity.

Anonymous Anonymous said...

"And so it continues, with men enslaving other men, the way they've done this since the beginning of time."

Doc, "We ARE slaves on a global plantation." If you ever get the time I think you will like this site.

Anonymous Anonymous said...

An interesting site:

I'd be interested in others opinions about the articles.


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