We're all about keeping tabs on the Lohans and Octomoms of the world, but Saturday's issue of the New York Post made us… well. Let's just say there may have been some guilt-laced acid reflux involved.

We've been doing a lot of thinking since then. You know, about our place in the universe. The state of the union. Evolution. That kind of thing.

Not that the Charlie Sheen-Kacey Jordan “36 hour party” isn't exactly the kind of story we can expect from the Post [or better yet, read the LA Weekly's version! Heh]. It's more just —

its extra-bold juxtaposition to “CAIRO BURNS,” or, one of the most important fights in modern Middle Eastern history, that knifes us in the gut a little. Not only did a lacy-bra'd Jordan win the top spot, she got like three millimeters more space.

Ouch.

Would it have killed the Post to switch the juicy porn star tell-all to the bottom of the page? Even if that meant like, 1,000 less readers? Even just so we could pretend we don't care more about what Charlie Sheen did with five hot women and a briefcase of cocaine last Thursday than the massive overthrow of a 21st century dictatorship?

Either that, or make this Post sub-story (from the same day) the front-page Egypt piece: “Looters in Egypt tear heads off two mummies.”

Haha. Now that's news.

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