A NYC arts reporter for the Globe and Mail returned to Toronto and decided to write a column about sampling morning radio.
He listened to bits of exactly 4 shows before deciding The Edge was the one for him. Somehow he missed Blundell and company’s dark sensibility and then when it finally struck him that they make jokes out of everything, even the deaths of human beings, he abandoned the station and decided there’s absolutely nothing for him on radio.
This column was the equivelant of trying 4 flavours in a 31 flavour ice cream store and declaring that forever more, you don’t like ice cream. Ice cream isn’t trying hard enough or doing anything to entertain you. Nevermind that there are 27 more flavours that remain untested – ice cream is simply unremarkable and unworthy of your time.
I’ve read exactly one column by this writer and have decided it’s not worth reading any more.