All you need to know

Everything that is wrong with the United States is spelled out in one headline, published in the edition of Sunday, 7 August: "Wal-Mart battle shifts to Washington."
Everything that is wrong with journalism today is spelled out in the subhead: "Campaigns are pressuring the retailer to be a better employer."
I admire what Wal-Mart and Sam Walton and his family have accomplished.
I recognize that lots of people patronize Wal-Mart for its apparently lower prices.
I do not like Wal-Mart.
I do not like to shop in Wal-Mart.
There are several reasons, including the proliferation of shoddy merchandise made in Communist China, the sullenness of the cashiers (at least in the store nearest me), the general lack of knowledge of employees (at least in the store nearest me, where one day as I entered I asked the person at the door for the whereabouts of a certain item, and was told he was merely a greeter, he didn't know where stuff was*), and the huge crowds of rude, sullen, pushy customers.
(It reminds me of that line attributed to Yogi Berra: "Nobody goes there any more. It's too crowded.")
My dislike of Wal-Mart includes a belief the new generation of owners, Mr. Sam's children, is greedy, that too many of the stores are being built, violating one of Mr. Sam's rules, not to build in population centers greater than 50,000, and concentrating too much shopping into one place.
I have never found the savings, if any, to be worth the efforts of the looooong walks in the HUGE stores and putting up with the crowds. And I absolutely HATE it that excellent grocery stores such as Winn-Dixie go out of business at least partly because people shop for lower quality at Wal-Mart.
My dislike of Wal-Mart is my personal problem, and I solve my personal problem by not shopping at Wal-Mart, unless I desperately need something the store sells and it is the only place open.
I avoid going into the store. I do not ask for legislation to regulate the private business into something I do like.
Easy.
Other people, though, and obviously in the tens and hundreds of millions, love Wal-Mart, or at least like it enough to spend lots of money there.
Still other people love it enough that there are loooooong lines of them making application for employment.
Wal-Mart is, in fact, the largest private employer in the United States and probably in the world. (There are, of course, many more employees in the federal government. Of the two groups, which provides a genuine service and which creates many more problems than it solves?)
There are more Wal-Mart employees than there are journalists, and they are at least as good at their jobs.
Which brings us to the subhead: "better employer."
That's a portion of a sentence from the story and the opinion of Anne D'Innocenzio of the Associated Press, which is the disseminator of some of the most hate-filled garbage, some of the most vicious propaganda in print.
Her story is only the latest of a long line of glorification of would-be tyrants and social engineers, most of whom, in the accompanying photograph, seem to be in their 20s and therefor absolute founts of wisdom and knowledge and omniscient ideas on how everybody else should live.
Those are also prime requisites to be journalists, especially page designers and layout "editors."
"Better employer." What gall on the part of the Times Free Press designer, with his or her nose stuck in the air and looking down it at the peons who are employed by the Wal-Mart octopus, caught in its tentacles and unable to make their own decisions.
OK, that's a personal opinion, to which that person is entitled. But that person is not entitled to publish personal opinions as "news."
Reporters cannot write grammatically, and editors cannot edit objectively, not just at the Times Free Press.
And social engineers are so cocksure in their smug self-righteousness that they know, they just KNOW, that laws should be based on their feelings.
And "news"papers encourage their fascistic notions with such garbage as this story.
*That was worse than an experience I had a few years ago at a Wal-Mart in Nogales, Arizona. There is another Nogales, in Sonora, Mexico, just a few miles to the south, but I was firmly in Arizona, an integral part of the United States since the Gadsden Purchase. At the door, I asked the greeter where something was and she said, "No ingles." I was dumbstruck for a moment, but she graciously and courteously led me to another employee, a gringa who spoke English. It was an interesting experience and an intriguing phenomenon.