Another example of lack of character, albeit less surprising, comes from a member of the press.  Sarah Spitz, a member of JournoList, had an orgasm of glee when thinking about Rush Limbaugh having a heart attack and declaring, unequivocally, how she would not do a thing to help him, just jump for joy.

Like the other cockroaches of the Journolist, her revelation was found out and outed.  Today, she issued a clarification:

I made poorly considered remarks about Rush Limbaugh to what I believed was a private email discussion group from my personal email account. As a publicist, I realize more than anyone that is no excuse for irresponsible behavior. I apologize to anyone I may have offended and I regret these comments greatly; they do not reflect the values by which I conduct my life.

"I made poorly considered remarks....what I believed was a private email....."

You see, she is not sorry she made the remarks.  She is not sorry she feels euphoria at the misery and ails of others.  She feels sorry for having been outed.

Just like all the other cockroaches on the Journolist, they are only happy when others are miserable.  They only find joy in the misery of others.  And when the light of truth is shone upon them, they scurry for cover like a light shining on the midnight escapades of cockroaches.

Unlike Spitz and the rest of the JournoList, I will not step on them like cockroaches,  I do not get joy out of their misery or the misery of others.  But I think the light of truth needs to be shed on the roach nest that has become journalism.