Published on, Sept. 28 -- September 28, 2025 10:55 AM

Once upon a time, there were maps. Not the kind folded in glove compartments or spread across war tables, but maps of instinct - invisible compasses carried in the pockets of journalists. These maps marked out the red lines, unspoken yet known: don't ask that, don't name him, don't cross there.

The boundaries were harsh, but at least they were clear. A fence, however irritating, could still be traced. A swamp, shifting every dawn, could not.

Today, the swamp has swallowed the newsroom. Each morning the map is redrawn overnight. Yesterday's harmless headline is today's indictment. Even the weather comes under suspicion: "Whose agenda is this rain serving?" Anchors walk tightropes, ju...