Every week, the news cycle produces a handful of stories that get wall-to-wall coverage and dozens more that get buried. The ones that get buried are not always less important. Sometimes they are more important — they just lack the right combination of celebrity, conflict, and visual drama to make the algorithm happy.
This Might Sting was built for the buried stories. Here are five we have covered that deserved more than a news cycle — and what they reveal about who gets covered, who gets forgotten, and why.
1. Mississippi's Water Crisis: Infrastructure Failure as a Civil Rights Issue
When Jackson, Mississippi lost safe running water in 2022, it made national news for about a week. Then the cameras left. The problem did not.
What the brief coverage missed was the deeper story: Jackson is a majority-Black city that had been systematically underfunded for decades. The water system failure was not a natural disaster. It was the predictable result of a political choice — the choice to let infrastructure in certain communities deteriorate until it collapsed.
Alex Reyes covered this for us, and what he found was a story about how environmental justice and racial justice are the same story. The communities that get clean water and the communities that do not are not randomly distributed. They follow the lines of race and income with a consistency that is impossible to explain as coincidence.
The national media treated it as a crisis story — a dramatic failure that needed to be fixed. The cultural story was different: this is what it looks like when a society decides, implicitly, that some people's water matters less than others'. That story did not end when the pipes were repaired.
2. The 9/11 Air Quality Cover-Up: What the Government Told First Responders
In the days after September 11, 2001, the Environmental Protection Agency told the public that the air around Ground Zero was safe to breathe. It was not. The EPA knew it was not. They said it anyway.
The first responders who spent weeks and months working at Ground Zero — the firefighters, the police officers, the volunteers — were breathing air thick with asbestos, heavy metals, and pulverized concrete. Many of them are now sick. Many of them are dead.
The Riz covered this in "The Ultimate Betrayal," and the piece is not really about 9/11. It is about what happens when institutions lie to the people who trust them most — and what it costs when the lie is not discovered until the damage is irreversible. It is about the gap between the official story and the true story, and who pays the price for that gap.
This is a story that should be taught in every journalism school. It is a case study in how institutional deception works: not through dramatic conspiracy, but through careful language, strategic omission, and the exploitation of a moment when nobody was in a position to push back.
3. The Crazy Eddie Trap: Nostalgia as a Form of Amnesia
Crazy Eddie was a consumer electronics chain that ran some of the most memorable TV commercials in American history. It was also a massive fraud — one of the largest securities frauds of the 1980s, built on fake inventory, falsified records, and a family that treated the company as a personal piggy bank.
The Member Berries Team covered this for us, and the piece is not really about Crazy Eddie. It is about nostalgia — specifically, about how nostalgia works as a form of selective memory. We remember the commercials. We remember the catchphrases. We do not remember the fraud, the victims, the employees who lost their jobs, the investors who lost their savings.
This is a pattern that repeats constantly in American culture. We mythologize the past by editing out the parts that complicate the myth. The result is a kind of collective amnesia that makes it very easy to repeat the same mistakes — because we have convinced ourselves that the original version was better than it was.
The Crazy Eddie story is a small example of a very large problem. And it is the kind of story that the news cycle is structurally incapable of telling, because it requires you to hold two things in your head at once: the genuine pleasure of the memory and the genuine harm of the reality.
4. The Lindsay Clancy Divide: How We Process Tragedy Through Ideology
The Lindsay Clancy case — a Massachusetts mother charged with killing her three children while allegedly in a state of postpartum psychosis — produced one of the most striking cultural phenomena we have covered: a complete split in public opinion that mapped almost perfectly onto pre-existing ideological lines.
Alyssa G covered this in "The Lindsay Effect," and what she found was not really a story about the case. It was a story about how we have lost the ability to process tragedy without immediately sorting it into our existing frameworks. The same facts — the same woman, the same crime, the same medical evidence — produced completely opposite moral conclusions depending on which cultural tribe you belonged to.
This is not new. But the speed and completeness of the sorting is new. Social media has made it possible to find, within hours of any major event, a community of people who have already decided what it means — and to never have to encounter the people who decided something different.
The cultural cost of this is hard to measure but easy to feel. We are losing the capacity for genuine moral uncertainty — for sitting with a complicated story and saying: I do not know what to think about this. That capacity is not a weakness. It is a prerequisite for thinking clearly.
5. The Pipeline Nobody's Talking About: Energy, Geopolitics, and the Stories That Get Buried
When the East-West Oil Pipeline became a flashpoint in the ongoing conflict between regional powers, the financial press covered the market implications. The political press covered the diplomatic implications. Almost nobody covered the human implications — the communities along the pipeline route, the environmental risks, the workers whose livelihoods depend on infrastructure that is now a military target.
Sketchy Politics covered this in cartoon form, which is sometimes the most honest way to tell a story. The cartoon showed what the straight news coverage missed: the absurdity of a situation where the people making decisions about the pipeline are insulated from its consequences, and the people living with those consequences have no voice in the decisions.
This is a pattern that appears in almost every major infrastructure story. The people who benefit from a decision and the people who bear its costs are rarely the same people. The news coverage tends to focus on the decision-makers. The cultural story is about the people who have to live with what gets decided.
What These Stories Have in Common
They are all stories about the gap between the official version and the true version. They are all stories about who gets to tell the story and who gets left out. They are all stories that required someone to look past the surface — past the press release, the verdict, the market report — and ask: what is actually happening here?
That is the work of cultural analysis. It is slower than breaking news. It is less satisfying than a clean narrative with a clear villain and a clear resolution. But it is the work that actually explains things — that gives you a framework for understanding not just what happened, but why it keeps happening.
The headlines will always miss some of these stories. That is not a failure of journalism. It is a structural feature of a system that runs on speed and novelty. The answer is not to fix the headlines. The answer is to build something alongside them — something that is willing to slow down, go deeper, and say the thing that takes more than a push notification to explain.
That is what we are building at This Might Sting. Read what we've been covering — and tell us what we are missing.