Remember That Time The Atlantic Willfully Kept a Fake News Story Alive Until They Were Forced To Correct The Record?

Breaking: Hill Republicans believe The Atlantic story was a coordinated attack from the Biden campaign. Biden used The Atlantic’s Jeffrey Goldberg pal Rep Conor Lamb (D-PA) to amplify the story. Buttigieg was ready and booked for a Fox Special Report. Democrats had attack ads ready as soon as the news dropped. Evidence emerging it was a coordinated planned attack to blunt military absentee ballots that were just getting underway overseas. Despicable to use veterans like this.

Before the latest so-called Trump exposé from The Atlantic, the magazine was forced to correct fake news. They published the name of their source for their police abolitionist story and this left the fabricated story open to investigation. Holes in their story emerged, but they refused to correct the record until the Christopher Bedford published a conclusive takedown.

The Atlantic ran an essay, “How I Became a Police Abolitionist,” that roots the activism of its author in a heart-rending story of a 16-year-old gunned down by the police in a rec center for failing to put his name on a sign-in sheet.

Christopher Bedford, at The Federalist, a conservative web outlet that has far fewer resources than The Atlantic, rather conclusively showed that the story as told was full of holes and likely never happened.

Up until the they were forced to correct the record, The Atlantic resisted. In other words, they defended fake news until the bitter end, showcasing their pathetic editorial standards.

Four days, six comment requests, and one follow-up story later, The Atlantic issued a series of major corrections that confirmed The Federalist’s investigation into their fake news.

Make no mistake, The Atlantic is fake news. Not only do they publish fake news, but they defend the practice.

1 Comment
  1. Reply
    Bill henslee Sep 6 at 4:42 pm

    What’s new about a media giant producing fake news that promotes their narrative of deconstructing the US into a progessive leftist dream world of some kind of Big Rock Candy mountain One evening as the sun went down
    And the jungle fire was burning
    Down the track came a hobo hiking
    And he said, “Boys, I’m not turning”

    “I’m headed for a land that’s far away
    Besides the crystal fountains
    So come with me, we’ll go and see
    The Big Rock Candy Mountains”

    In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
    There’s a land that’s fair and bright
    Where the handouts grow on bushes
    And you sleep out every night

    Where the boxcars all are empty
    And the sun shines every day
    And the birds and the bees
    And the cigarette trees

    The lemonade springs
    Where the bluebird sings
    In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

    In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
    All the cops have wooden legs
    And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth
    And the hens lay soft-boiled eggs

    The farmers’ trees are full of fruit
    And the barns are full of hay
    Oh, I’m bound to go
    Where there ain’t no snow

    Where the rain don’t fall
    The winds don’t blow
    In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

    In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
    You never change your socks
    And the little streams of alcohol
    Come trickling down the rocks

    The brakemen have to tip their hats
    And the railway bulls are blind
    There’s a lake of stew
    And of whiskey too

    You can paddle all around it
    In a big canoe
    In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

    In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
    The jails are made of tin
    And you can walk right out again
    As soon as you are in

    There ain’t no short-handled shovels
    No axes, saws nor picks
    I’m goin’ to stay
    Where you sleep all day

    Where they hung the jerk
    That invented work
    In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

    I’ll see you all this coming fall
    In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

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