Friday, May 15, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
El Fin
For what is probably my last entry into the blog, a great column by Eugene Robinson about the problems facing the Boston Globe.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Small Market hyperlocal
I normally don't get the WSJ, but as I noted in an earlier blog, it came today. As I was finishing dinner, I was perusing through the paper. I stumbled across this article on investors coveting small-market papers.
Umm...
Did the LA Times go out of business? I mean more than its bankruptcy entails. My daily LA Times did not arrive today, but rather a copy of the Wall Street Journal, a newspaper to which I don't subscribe. Did Murdoch take over? How strange....
Monday, April 27, 2009
Latest installment from an ink-stained wretch
From Elsa:
"I thought of you during my late morning coffee and Sunday New York Times routine a while ago. Maureen Dowd has a column, "Slouching Towards Oblivion," which is another piece on the downward slide of newspapers. (Let me digress: as you may already know, the headline is an illusion to Joan Didion's book "Slouching Towards Bethlehem," which is itself taken from the poem "The Second Coming" by W.B. Yeats. Yeats' poem also supplied the title for Chinua Achebe's wonderful book on Africa, "Things Fall Apart," as well as the oft-repeated observation that "the center cannot hold." In any case, I once had a journalism professor at BU who said that anyone who wanted to to learn how to write should study Joan Didion's work. To this day, I consider her to be one of the great essayists of our time, just brilliantly descriptive no matter what she writes.)
Back to the matter at hand. Dowd's column is a reflection on her interview with Phil Bronstein, of the San Francisco Chronicle, and it got me thinking again of newspaper days gone by. Bronstein, as she recalls, was once married to Sharon Stone. I remember attending some newspaper meetings where the major entertainment seemed to consist of reported sightings of the then-happy couple. Similarly, some years before that, a newspaper executive was married to another blonde bombshell, Barbara "I Dream of Jeannie" Eden. Their attendance at a publishers' convention was another example of "ooh, look, there she is!" as they swanned around the hotel ballroom.
Journalists, both then and now, live in a celebrity-loving culture just like everyone else. There's nothing profound in that observation. But I realize that there was also a time when celebrities loved print journalists right back. It was a mutually symbiotic affair. There was many heady days at newspaper conventions when the rich and famous were glad to meet and greet the Fourth Estate and subject themselves to probing questions. In particular, one convention in Denver was a huge success mainly because Warren Beatty and Robert Redford made a swoon-inducing doubleheader on the dais. (Yes, both Beatty and Redford are shorter than they appear on screen, but no one seemed to care. I was in an elevator with Redford at one point, and even in his cowboy boots, he was barely taller than I. But I still remember that he had a golden glow, almost as if he'd been lit from within. Looking at his craggy face now, I realize he just spent a lot of time in the sun. However, I still prefer my honey-dipped memory, complete with a fond recall of my younger self, struck mute with awe.)
Anyway, celebrities--both the Hollywood kind and the ones who lived near the Potomac--got something out of these encounters. They wouldn't have done them otherwise. Newspaper giants like Kay Graham and Abe Rosenthal once opened their grand homes to run the kind of salon that "Salon" can only dream about today. Actors, authors, pols and Supreme Court justices all milled about in style with suitably salivating press lords and ladies. Both presidential candidates and newly elected Commanders-in-Chief felt duty-bound to give keynote addresses to the American Society of Newspaper Editors and the American Newspaper Publishing Association conventions held each April. Now the publishers' trade group is known as the Newspaper Association of America, with the sad but timely acronym of NAA. The American Society of Newspaper Editors bowed to the dwindling revenues among its membership and simply cancelled the convention that should have been held earlier this month.
Like Kay and Abe, the glory days of my journalistic youth are gone. The bold-faced names go on Larry King or Chris Matthews. They have their own websites. They even blog and tweet. Do they need actual newspapers anymore? Neither Maureen Dowd nor Phil Bronstein had an answer for me this morning."
"I thought of you during my late morning coffee and Sunday New York Times routine a while ago. Maureen Dowd has a column, "Slouching Towards Oblivion," which is another piece on the downward slide of newspapers. (Let me digress: as you may already know, the headline is an illusion to Joan Didion's book "Slouching Towards Bethlehem," which is itself taken from the poem "The Second Coming" by W.B. Yeats. Yeats' poem also supplied the title for Chinua Achebe's wonderful book on Africa, "Things Fall Apart," as well as the oft-repeated observation that "the center cannot hold." In any case, I once had a journalism professor at BU who said that anyone who wanted to to learn how to write should study Joan Didion's work. To this day, I consider her to be one of the great essayists of our time, just brilliantly descriptive no matter what she writes.)
Back to the matter at hand. Dowd's column is a reflection on her interview with Phil Bronstein, of the San Francisco Chronicle, and it got me thinking again of newspaper days gone by. Bronstein, as she recalls, was once married to Sharon Stone. I remember attending some newspaper meetings where the major entertainment seemed to consist of reported sightings of the then-happy couple. Similarly, some years before that, a newspaper executive was married to another blonde bombshell, Barbara "I Dream of Jeannie" Eden. Their attendance at a publishers' convention was another example of "ooh, look, there she is!" as they swanned around the hotel ballroom.
Journalists, both then and now, live in a celebrity-loving culture just like everyone else. There's nothing profound in that observation. But I realize that there was also a time when celebrities loved print journalists right back. It was a mutually symbiotic affair. There was many heady days at newspaper conventions when the rich and famous were glad to meet and greet the Fourth Estate and subject themselves to probing questions. In particular, one convention in Denver was a huge success mainly because Warren Beatty and Robert Redford made a swoon-inducing doubleheader on the dais. (Yes, both Beatty and Redford are shorter than they appear on screen, but no one seemed to care. I was in an elevator with Redford at one point, and even in his cowboy boots, he was barely taller than I. But I still remember that he had a golden glow, almost as if he'd been lit from within. Looking at his craggy face now, I realize he just spent a lot of time in the sun. However, I still prefer my honey-dipped memory, complete with a fond recall of my younger self, struck mute with awe.)
Anyway, celebrities--both the Hollywood kind and the ones who lived near the Potomac--got something out of these encounters. They wouldn't have done them otherwise. Newspaper giants like Kay Graham and Abe Rosenthal once opened their grand homes to run the kind of salon that "Salon" can only dream about today. Actors, authors, pols and Supreme Court justices all milled about in style with suitably salivating press lords and ladies. Both presidential candidates and newly elected Commanders-in-Chief felt duty-bound to give keynote addresses to the American Society of Newspaper Editors and the American Newspaper Publishing Association conventions held each April. Now the publishers' trade group is known as the Newspaper Association of America, with the sad but timely acronym of NAA. The American Society of Newspaper Editors bowed to the dwindling revenues among its membership and simply cancelled the convention that should have been held earlier this month.
Like Kay and Abe, the glory days of my journalistic youth are gone. The bold-faced names go on Larry King or Chris Matthews. They have their own websites. They even blog and tweet. Do they need actual newspapers anymore? Neither Maureen Dowd nor Phil Bronstein had an answer for me this morning."
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Baron de Reuter
I made an interesting discovery, Paul Julius von Reuter, Baron de Reuter- the father of the Reuters news agency was one of my peeps.
Friday, April 24, 2009
95 e-ses
We are banging up the proclamation on the digital cathedral of Wittenberg. This is our Digital News Reformation. The catholic news forces ran fat on indulgences of fat profits and unchallenged geographic monopoly and advertising. Beware the Information Reformation that is unleashed. Just as Luther said, you do not need the Church as intermediary to the Kingdom of Heaven, so too we say that no longer are the ink-and-paper old guard necessary to deliver us content on how the world works; no longer are we bound to newsprint for quality journalism. Beware the naysayers who miss the promise and potential of Gutenberg's latest incarnation, the Internet. The Information Reformation is here, and is the 30 Years News War that will follow in wake is growing closer, if it hasn't already arrived.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Ponzi and twitter
Two good pieces from the LA Times op-ed section:
One on Charles Ponzi and the journalists who stopped him. The other by Megan Daum on the inanity of twitter. Full disclosure, I have been slowly getting more addicted to twitter.
One on Charles Ponzi and the journalists who stopped him. The other by Megan Daum on the inanity of twitter. Full disclosure, I have been slowly getting more addicted to twitter.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
O Brave New World
I peer out into a landscape littered with the dying carcasses of news organizations, and the burgeoning lights that are slowly arising in the ever-changing landscape that is ripe with potential and fecund promise. From the 4th floor of Leavey, I am playing flak/matchmaker between GlobalPost and Rotary Books For the World, putting in motion an international news story of global good.
Friday, April 17, 2009
From an ink-stained wretch (part I)
This comes from my cousin Elsa, an ol' school newspapernik:
"It's been a hectic few months, but neither Creed nor I have forgotten you. Creed's use of the internet is nil these days, so I'm the delegated responder on the "good ole days of American reporting." I'll start on the subject for a few minutes now and get back to it over the weekend. (Old reporters never die; they just languish in carpool!).
Okay, well, we really are in the digital age now, aren't we? The newspaper industry that I knew--and certainly the one in which Creed spent most of his professional life--would seem to be the last dinosaur in the swamp these days. At one time, it would have been unimaginable to think of a day when Knight-Ridder would no longer exist, the New York Times would be in great financial difficulty and the Times-owned Boston Globe would be teetering on its last legs. Those of us who toiled in the earlier days of the Fourth Estate all seem to be wringing our hands, wondering about alternative ways to deliver the news in meaningful, profitable ways. Is there a real future for journalism as we knew and loved it? That many of us are pondering the situation in blogs rather than in traditional print is ironic at the very least.
Yet I still believe that the dissemination of news to citizens of a city, state, country, region or planet is vitally important to build, nurture and sustain democratic societies. The form it takes is far less important that the fact that it actually takes place.
More on this later. As "they" say, GTG. Note, though, that this email is not actually reporting at all. As with so much of what you read these days, it is just my own observations and opinions--no more, no less. And therein lies a tale--or my thesis, if you will-- about the dangers of this new age. Who and what can you believe today when you read it with a click of a mouse? Can cyberspace be as trustworthy as the old "final edition" newspaper tossed on your doorstep?"
Thanks Elsa, it is lovely to have some proper perspective.
"It's been a hectic few months, but neither Creed nor I have forgotten you. Creed's use of the internet is nil these days, so I'm the delegated responder on the "good ole days of American reporting." I'll start on the subject for a few minutes now and get back to it over the weekend. (Old reporters never die; they just languish in carpool!).
Okay, well, we really are in the digital age now, aren't we? The newspaper industry that I knew--and certainly the one in which Creed spent most of his professional life--would seem to be the last dinosaur in the swamp these days. At one time, it would have been unimaginable to think of a day when Knight-Ridder would no longer exist, the New York Times would be in great financial difficulty and the Times-owned Boston Globe would be teetering on its last legs. Those of us who toiled in the earlier days of the Fourth Estate all seem to be wringing our hands, wondering about alternative ways to deliver the news in meaningful, profitable ways. Is there a real future for journalism as we knew and loved it? That many of us are pondering the situation in blogs rather than in traditional print is ironic at the very least.
Yet I still believe that the dissemination of news to citizens of a city, state, country, region or planet is vitally important to build, nurture and sustain democratic societies. The form it takes is far less important that the fact that it actually takes place.
More on this later. As "they" say, GTG. Note, though, that this email is not actually reporting at all. As with so much of what you read these days, it is just my own observations and opinions--no more, no less. And therein lies a tale--or my thesis, if you will-- about the dangers of this new age. Who and what can you believe today when you read it with a click of a mouse? Can cyberspace be as trustworthy as the old "final edition" newspaper tossed on your doorstep?"
Thanks Elsa, it is lovely to have some proper perspective.
From an ink-stained wretch (part II)
Elsa's post continued:
"Just a little more before Friday night arrives in earnest....
For instance, back in the day, I was taught that the news pages should be devoted to facts rather than opinion. A news article had a byline, but it was not designed-or allowed--to contain the reporter's opinion. If it did, the piece had to be clearly labeled "Commentary." The traditional "who, what, where, when, why and how" were the building blocks of the story and additional facts were set forth in an inverted pyramid of importance. Your article was incomplete unless it answered all of these questions in a logical fashion, even if meant spending a lot of time, energy and shoe leather doing it. Sources were named whenever possible and two sources were the required norm.
All news stories were edited by someone on the copy desk whose job it was to see that these rules were followed and that the resulting article was clear, concise and grammatically correct. Each individual newspaper of note had its own "Book of Style" and the sine qua non of rules was contained in a little book by Strunk and White called "The Elements of Style." Woe be unto any young reporter who didn't keep a copy of this Bible, copyrighted in 1918, near the closest typewriter.
These things mattered then, and as I'll soon argue, they should matter still. You can ignore them, of course, and still make a pretty good living shouting your opinions-disguised-as-facts online or on the airways. But being a entertainer is not the same thing as being a journalist, and any journalist worth his or her salt never forgets this simple fact. Remaining true to this tradition while changing with the times is at the crux of the dilemma facing news organizations today.
I remember my days on The Philadelphia Inquirer when one of my weekly responsibilities was to receive John S. Knight's Sunday column and to make sure that all of his subsequent corrections were made before publication. The column itself, as well as all of the corrections, came by teletype from Akron, where the great man lived, or from some other dateline where he'd been traveling. It was one of the banes of my existence having to wait until it was clear that no more changes were coming.
Well, one day, as was bound to happen, I let an inconsequential mistake go by. The column was published under the subhead "The Editor's Notebook" rather than the correct "An Editor's Notebook." I simply hadn't caught the error. My immediate boss ran into my office, shouting, "Is John S. Knight THE editor of The Philadelphia Inquirer?" No, I had to admit, that title, in fact, belonged to a man named Creed C. Black (hmmmm). Frankly, I didn't see that it mattered a whole lot. But my boss fixed me with a stare, and through gritted teeth, pronounced that "maybe you know who the editor is, and maybe I know who the editor is, but don't you think that the reader deserves to know, too?"
In some respects, all these years later, I still agree with my younger self, who believed that there were more important things to worry about in life, much less in a daily newspaper. But I also recall my boss' final words on the subject: "Elsa, if the readers can't trust us on this small point, why should they trust us about anything?" And I have to ask, "Why, indeed?"
E.B White got to the nub of the answer, I think, in the last chapter of a revised edition of "The Elements of Style." True reporting, he wrote presciently in 1959, lies in the sublimation of the self:
...to achieve style, begin by affecting none--that is, place yourself in the background........The volume of writing is enormous, these days,and much of it has a sort of windiness about it, almost as though the author were in a state of euphoria........If one is to write, one must believe--in the truth and worth of the scrawl, in the ability of the reader to receive and decode the message. No one can write decently who is distrustful of the reader's intelligence, or whose attitude is
patronizing........Many references have been made in this book to "the reader"--he has been much in the news. It is now necessary to warn the writer that his concern for the reader must be pure: he must sympathize with his reader's plight (most readers are in trouble about half the time) but never seek to know his wants. The whole duty of a writer is to please and satisfy himself. Let him start sniffing the air, or glancing at the Trend Machine, and he is as good as dead, although he may make a nice living.
It is mind-boggling to realize that this advice was given decades before the birth of CNN and the need to fill airtime 24/7, much less the advent of the internet, Google, Facebook, blogs or Twitter. That the verb "to tweet" would refer to anything other than a birdcall was beyond the imagination of anyone not engaging in science fiction. Yet E.B White had it exactly right.
More to come (MTK, as we used to write at the bottom of unfinished copy)"
Thanks Elsa!
"Just a little more before Friday night arrives in earnest....
For instance, back in the day, I was taught that the news pages should be devoted to facts rather than opinion. A news article had a byline, but it was not designed-or allowed--to contain the reporter's opinion. If it did, the piece had to be clearly labeled "Commentary." The traditional "who, what, where, when, why and how" were the building blocks of the story and additional facts were set forth in an inverted pyramid of importance. Your article was incomplete unless it answered all of these questions in a logical fashion, even if meant spending a lot of time, energy and shoe leather doing it. Sources were named whenever possible and two sources were the required norm.
All news stories were edited by someone on the copy desk whose job it was to see that these rules were followed and that the resulting article was clear, concise and grammatically correct. Each individual newspaper of note had its own "Book of Style" and the sine qua non of rules was contained in a little book by Strunk and White called "The Elements of Style." Woe be unto any young reporter who didn't keep a copy of this Bible, copyrighted in 1918, near the closest typewriter.
These things mattered then, and as I'll soon argue, they should matter still. You can ignore them, of course, and still make a pretty good living shouting your opinions-disguised-as-facts online or on the airways. But being a entertainer is not the same thing as being a journalist, and any journalist worth his or her salt never forgets this simple fact. Remaining true to this tradition while changing with the times is at the crux of the dilemma facing news organizations today.
I remember my days on The Philadelphia Inquirer when one of my weekly responsibilities was to receive John S. Knight's Sunday column and to make sure that all of his subsequent corrections were made before publication. The column itself, as well as all of the corrections, came by teletype from Akron, where the great man lived, or from some other dateline where he'd been traveling. It was one of the banes of my existence having to wait until it was clear that no more changes were coming.
Well, one day, as was bound to happen, I let an inconsequential mistake go by. The column was published under the subhead "The Editor's Notebook" rather than the correct "An Editor's Notebook." I simply hadn't caught the error. My immediate boss ran into my office, shouting, "Is John S. Knight THE editor of The Philadelphia Inquirer?" No, I had to admit, that title, in fact, belonged to a man named Creed C. Black (hmmmm). Frankly, I didn't see that it mattered a whole lot. But my boss fixed me with a stare, and through gritted teeth, pronounced that "maybe you know who the editor is, and maybe I know who the editor is, but don't you think that the reader deserves to know, too?"
In some respects, all these years later, I still agree with my younger self, who believed that there were more important things to worry about in life, much less in a daily newspaper. But I also recall my boss' final words on the subject: "Elsa, if the readers can't trust us on this small point, why should they trust us about anything?" And I have to ask, "Why, indeed?"
E.B White got to the nub of the answer, I think, in the last chapter of a revised edition of "The Elements of Style." True reporting, he wrote presciently in 1959, lies in the sublimation of the self:
...to achieve style, begin by affecting none--that is, place yourself in the background........The volume of writing is enormous, these days,and much of it has a sort of windiness about it, almost as though the author were in a state of euphoria........If one is to write, one must believe--in the truth and worth of the scrawl, in the ability of the reader to receive and decode the message. No one can write decently who is distrustful of the reader's intelligence, or whose attitude is
patronizing........Many references have been made in this book to "the reader"--he has been much in the news. It is now necessary to warn the writer that his concern for the reader must be pure: he must sympathize with his reader's plight (most readers are in trouble about half the time) but never seek to know his wants. The whole duty of a writer is to please and satisfy himself. Let him start sniffing the air, or glancing at the Trend Machine, and he is as good as dead, although he may make a nice living.
It is mind-boggling to realize that this advice was given decades before the birth of CNN and the need to fill airtime 24/7, much less the advent of the internet, Google, Facebook, blogs or Twitter. That the verb "to tweet" would refer to anything other than a birdcall was beyond the imagination of anyone not engaging in science fiction. Yet E.B White had it exactly right.
More to come (MTK, as we used to write at the bottom of unfinished copy)"
Thanks Elsa!
From an ink-stained wretch (part III)
Elsa cont:
"This is not to say that the "new media" is all bluster and fluff. For instance, Katie Couric's campaign-imploding interviews with Sarah Palin were the stuff of legend and great theater. But the theater was in watching Palin, not Couric. It was Palin who made a fool of herself while answering Couric's thoughtful and newsworthy questions. Couric didn't play "gotcha" journalism with the vice presidential nominee: she kept her faith with E.B. White and let Sarah be Sarah. Lucky for all of us (liberal) viewers, Gov. Palin took the ball and ran with it. Couric's interview was just Journalism 101 on the air waves.
You can't say the same for much of what passes for television journalism today. I confess that I watch--and enjoy--the array of nightly shows on cable every night. But to call them "news programs" is to insult generations of hard-working, responsible men and women who have regarded reporting as a noble calling essential to the democratic process. Glenn Beck? Bill O'Reilly? (Or if you're a radio listener, Rush Limbaugh?) These men are not-- in any way, shape or form-- journalists. They are performers in the circus maximus of public opinion.
And lest I leave the left-leaning pundits unscathed, let me add that they can be a sorry bunch as well. I love Rachel Maddow and consider her a breathe of network fresh air. But she and some of her MSNBC colleagues ought to be ashamed of their sniggling, downright puerile puns last week while covering the GOP "tea parties." They might have been privately funny, but in a public forum, night after night after night? As Maddow herself might say: not so much.
Am I just a grumpy middle-aged woman? Maybe so. But I still think a case can be made that old-fashioned journalism has a place--and must have a place--in this digital age. It's clear that journalism schools all over the country are struggling with how to make this happen.
There is a New York Times piece to be published tomorrow on the Sturm und Drang in j-schools across the country. No one, it seems, knows quite how to answer the question "whether journalism in today's world?" I don't pretend to know the one, true way myself.
But surely the answer is not to let the dissemination of news be confused with the daily bulletin board of opinions, gossip, video snippets and what-not that you can find on the air and over the internet. Reading Ashton Kutcher compete with CNN for followers on Twitter can be kind of fun. Seeing Susan Boyle knock 'em dead on YouTube is spine-tingling. But without more--without the facts that flesh out the razzle-dazzle--these experiences simply don't qualify as news. Call me old-fashioned, but in my book, they never will."
"This is not to say that the "new media" is all bluster and fluff. For instance, Katie Couric's campaign-imploding interviews with Sarah Palin were the stuff of legend and great theater. But the theater was in watching Palin, not Couric. It was Palin who made a fool of herself while answering Couric's thoughtful and newsworthy questions. Couric didn't play "gotcha" journalism with the vice presidential nominee: she kept her faith with E.B. White and let Sarah be Sarah. Lucky for all of us (liberal) viewers, Gov. Palin took the ball and ran with it. Couric's interview was just Journalism 101 on the air waves.
You can't say the same for much of what passes for television journalism today. I confess that I watch--and enjoy--the array of nightly shows on cable every night. But to call them "news programs" is to insult generations of hard-working, responsible men and women who have regarded reporting as a noble calling essential to the democratic process. Glenn Beck? Bill O'Reilly? (Or if you're a radio listener, Rush Limbaugh?) These men are not-- in any way, shape or form-- journalists. They are performers in the circus maximus of public opinion.
And lest I leave the left-leaning pundits unscathed, let me add that they can be a sorry bunch as well. I love Rachel Maddow and consider her a breathe of network fresh air. But she and some of her MSNBC colleagues ought to be ashamed of their sniggling, downright puerile puns last week while covering the GOP "tea parties." They might have been privately funny, but in a public forum, night after night after night? As Maddow herself might say: not so much.
Am I just a grumpy middle-aged woman? Maybe so. But I still think a case can be made that old-fashioned journalism has a place--and must have a place--in this digital age. It's clear that journalism schools all over the country are struggling with how to make this happen.
There is a New York Times piece to be published tomorrow on the Sturm und Drang in j-schools across the country. No one, it seems, knows quite how to answer the question "whether journalism in today's world?" I don't pretend to know the one, true way myself.
But surely the answer is not to let the dissemination of news be confused with the daily bulletin board of opinions, gossip, video snippets and what-not that you can find on the air and over the internet. Reading Ashton Kutcher compete with CNN for followers on Twitter can be kind of fun. Seeing Susan Boyle knock 'em dead on YouTube is spine-tingling. But without more--without the facts that flesh out the razzle-dazzle--these experiences simply don't qualify as news. Call me old-fashioned, but in my book, they never will."
The Twitter Battle Book
Reminds me of the Butter Battle Book by Dr. Seuss. Apparently CNN and Ashton Kutcher are dueling it out for 1 million subscribers on twitter.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Googlesaurus
MoDo meets with the Google Cheney to discuss his waterboarding of the newspaper industry, among other things.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
The twitter revolution
A fantastic story appeared last week about the role of twitter in fomenting revolution in Moldova. The story was posted in a comment in my blog in response to a post about Gandhi 2.0, cyber-satyaghraha. The NY Times has another story about the growing use of twitter.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Last one out, turn off the lights...
LA Times op-ed contributor Rosa Brooks had an interesting last column before she bade farewell to the paper.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Ivory Tower next up
"Don't look back, something might be gaining on you."
-Satchel Paige
The next bastion to fall....Higher Ed.
-Satchel Paige
The next bastion to fall....Higher Ed.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Detroit's woes
Interesting article about Detroit's newspaper woes. Maybe the answer is to try to sell it to Canada- I mean the city not the paper.
A far more interesting article about Detroit from Harper's. Any article that can combine an article about Detroit with Ozymandius is impressive.
A far more interesting article about Detroit from Harper's. Any article that can combine an article about Detroit with Ozymandius is impressive.
Monday, March 30, 2009
The crumbling temple
They say it's a recession when your neighbor loses his job, but a depression when you lose yours. What about if the job was that of a friend and colleague- someone not close but well-respected? It hit home today that we are literally watching the Temple crumble around us. The edifice is really crashing down as the semester drags on.
I realize I had previously been somewhat glib, but I got a wake up call about what scary shape the news industry is in. I found out that my friend "Sam" of the "Relation" was let go in some massive restructuring. He was the international editor when I was press officer for the Israeli Consulate. We sparred but always with respect and admiration. He was supposed to be an interview for our international reporting project- we'll see if he still wants to participate. I feel like a vulture circling a still-warm body as I am trying to contact him. Yet more importantly, I want to contact him to offer my support.
I realize I had previously been somewhat glib, but I got a wake up call about what scary shape the news industry is in. I found out that my friend "Sam" of the "Relation" was let go in some massive restructuring. He was the international editor when I was press officer for the Israeli Consulate. We sparred but always with respect and admiration. He was supposed to be an interview for our international reporting project- we'll see if he still wants to participate. I feel like a vulture circling a still-warm body as I am trying to contact him. Yet more importantly, I want to contact him to offer my support.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
NY Times Global edition
I just saw the link pop up to view the NY Times' global edition. Fascinating. Also fascinating is an article by Michael Hirschorn of the Atlantic on whether the NY Times can survive, called "End Times."
Meanwhile, an interesting piece on the three people who killed the newspaper industry.
Yes, I realize this blog has become more aggregating than pontificating, but my rationale is that I figure we need less voices and more direction to good content.
Meanwhile, an interesting piece on the three people who killed the newspaper industry.
Yes, I realize this blog has become more aggregating than pontificating, but my rationale is that I figure we need less voices and more direction to good content.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
The last of an era
This came to me from a friend Jocelyn, who spent time in Bombay. We caught up there during my travels. It came to her from a fellow named Scott Steinberg. I don't know him or his story. All I know is that there are things that are disappearing that I care far more about than the newspaper industry. I spent time in Calcutta, and saw the letter writers, the picture is mine, but the memory is from Scott:
Hardly anyone anymore comes to see Saresh Mahato, one of the last letter writers of Calcutta.
"No more letters," he said after I asked him to write me one. "Stamps ... and insurance."
Then he pretended to ignore me, staring at items on his makeshift table set up in front of the General Post Office, a chalk-white architectural curiosity on the western side of Dalhousie Square.
About a year and a half ago, I had read an article in the New York Times about the professional scribes outside the main Mumbai post office who pen letters for illiterates: prostitutes, migrants, coolies, and other hardscrabble types in need of a skilled hand to send a dispatch home -- or worse, official correspondence to civil servants or bill collectors.
It's just one of several business being swept aside in the name of progress and convenience. In India, there are almost 400 million cell phone users. If you don't have a phone, your friend does. No need to take the time to dictate your worldly problems to a letter writer, and then shell out 20 rupees for the service. If an official letter is required, the whiz kids at the Internet cafes will whip one up for a good price.
I didn't have the chance to look for the letter writers in Mumbai four and a half months ago. When Jennifer and I arrived in Calcutta, I made a point to attend to unfinished business.
"You write better," said Saresh, a handsome man in his late 40s who grew up in the much-maligned state of Bihar.
"But I can't write this letter," I said.
Saresh and I went back and forth. Please. No. Please. No. And then something broke, the way it can only India -- the feeling of a billion people against, suddenly for.
"One page?" he asked, reluctantly offering up a blank sheet.
"One page."
"To?"
"My step-father, Fred."
"What is step? Father is father."
We were getting somewhere.
I told Saresh what I wanted: a letter to Fred explaining that I think about him often as slips deeper into Parkinson's Disease. I wanted more than a postcard -- something with rough edges, gleaming with truth.
"From the heart," he said. "You should have done one thing -- come in the evening when there's no traffic. Then I can think."
There is always traffic in Calcutta.
But he started. In the first paragraph his cursive loops were tight and the line slants were sharp, belying his nervousness. He was out of practice. He took long pauses between sentences; when he wrote, he didn't stray from my dictation.
We pushed on. Customers came up wanting to buy and sell stamps. Saresh ignored them. A naked man, with the skeleton of a small dinosaur, was fifty feet behind us dying a slow death -- his penis hanging in his beggar's cup. The heat pressed on the pollution, which pressed on our lungs.
In the letter, Saresh introduced himself to Fred, explaining that his industry was at least as old as the post office itself -- 140 years and counting. He said he was writing the letter, probably one of the last he would ever draft, for fifty rupees, or one dollar.
Half-way through the letter we crossed the street for a break. Three rupees each got us milky, smoky masala tea served in clay cups. He paid. When we finished the tea, we smashed the cups on the ground, as we should.
"You are my most interesting customer in twenty years," he said.
I took the hyperbolic compliment as his way of saying, "I like you." He already knew I liked him.
My letter was now our letter. Saresh picked up his pen and told the story of the journey that Jennifer and I were completing. He spoke of India -- the speed of some things, the inertia of others. He described the fine line between good health and bad. He wrote with more confidence, taking the liberty to stray from what I told him, as he should.
We came to the end of the page.
"Do you want me to write more?" he asked.
Of course I did. All day, through the night, into the summer. I hated to leave, to let go of this, to have to cap four and a half months. But it was time, the moment for the sincerest of sincerelys.
Despite some poor grammar, his last letter -- unlike this one -- was perfect. But it contained one lie: I didn't pay him 50 rupees. Though he has three kids at home and an ailing mother in Bihar, Saresh refused to take my money. I pushed, but not too hard.
When a man hangs up his pen, he should be able to do so with dignity.
 |
| From Calcutta |
Hardly anyone anymore comes to see Saresh Mahato, one of the last letter writers of Calcutta.
"No more letters," he said after I asked him to write me one. "Stamps ... and insurance."
Then he pretended to ignore me, staring at items on his makeshift table set up in front of the General Post Office, a chalk-white architectural curiosity on the western side of Dalhousie Square.
About a year and a half ago, I had read an article in the New York Times about the professional scribes outside the main Mumbai post office who pen letters for illiterates: prostitutes, migrants, coolies, and other hardscrabble types in need of a skilled hand to send a dispatch home -- or worse, official correspondence to civil servants or bill collectors.
It's just one of several business being swept aside in the name of progress and convenience. In India, there are almost 400 million cell phone users. If you don't have a phone, your friend does. No need to take the time to dictate your worldly problems to a letter writer, and then shell out 20 rupees for the service. If an official letter is required, the whiz kids at the Internet cafes will whip one up for a good price.
I didn't have the chance to look for the letter writers in Mumbai four and a half months ago. When Jennifer and I arrived in Calcutta, I made a point to attend to unfinished business.
"You write better," said Saresh, a handsome man in his late 40s who grew up in the much-maligned state of Bihar.
"But I can't write this letter," I said.
Saresh and I went back and forth. Please. No. Please. No. And then something broke, the way it can only India -- the feeling of a billion people against, suddenly for.
"One page?" he asked, reluctantly offering up a blank sheet.
"One page."
"To?"
"My step-father, Fred."
"What is step? Father is father."
We were getting somewhere.
I told Saresh what I wanted: a letter to Fred explaining that I think about him often as slips deeper into Parkinson's Disease. I wanted more than a postcard -- something with rough edges, gleaming with truth.
"From the heart," he said. "You should have done one thing -- come in the evening when there's no traffic. Then I can think."
There is always traffic in Calcutta.
But he started. In the first paragraph his cursive loops were tight and the line slants were sharp, belying his nervousness. He was out of practice. He took long pauses between sentences; when he wrote, he didn't stray from my dictation.
We pushed on. Customers came up wanting to buy and sell stamps. Saresh ignored them. A naked man, with the skeleton of a small dinosaur, was fifty feet behind us dying a slow death -- his penis hanging in his beggar's cup. The heat pressed on the pollution, which pressed on our lungs.
In the letter, Saresh introduced himself to Fred, explaining that his industry was at least as old as the post office itself -- 140 years and counting. He said he was writing the letter, probably one of the last he would ever draft, for fifty rupees, or one dollar.
Half-way through the letter we crossed the street for a break. Three rupees each got us milky, smoky masala tea served in clay cups. He paid. When we finished the tea, we smashed the cups on the ground, as we should.
"You are my most interesting customer in twenty years," he said.
I took the hyperbolic compliment as his way of saying, "I like you." He already knew I liked him.
My letter was now our letter. Saresh picked up his pen and told the story of the journey that Jennifer and I were completing. He spoke of India -- the speed of some things, the inertia of others. He described the fine line between good health and bad. He wrote with more confidence, taking the liberty to stray from what I told him, as he should.
We came to the end of the page.
"Do you want me to write more?" he asked.
Of course I did. All day, through the night, into the summer. I hated to leave, to let go of this, to have to cap four and a half months. But it was time, the moment for the sincerest of sincerelys.
Despite some poor grammar, his last letter -- unlike this one -- was perfect. But it contained one lie: I didn't pay him 50 rupees. Though he has three kids at home and an ailing mother in Bihar, Saresh refused to take my money. I pushed, but not too hard.
When a man hangs up his pen, he should be able to do so with dignity.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
After the Fall
A fascinating piece in the LALA Times about what happens in a community after the paper fails. Check out this piece on the Sopris Sun, a volunteer paper that just sprung up in Colorado after the small town paper died.
Iche bin ein Marylander
Kudos to my Senator Ben Cardin for proposing a bill to allow newspapers to restructure as nonprofits.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Life without
This interesting graphic comes from my friend Julep. She lives in St. Louis, and states, "the paper here is so bad I can't even look at it. I can't even look at it online. we'd probably be better off without it."
Monday, March 16, 2009
Raggedy Rags
"I come not to praise Cesar but to bury him."
-Marc Antony
I was privy to another fair rag, the San Diego Union-Tribune. I'm not sure if it is worse than the San Fran Chron, but it was close. The paper was free of any news or substance; it serves better purpose as cage liner. Perhaps, alluding to our second week's guest, we might have to destroy the newspaper industry in order to save it.
-Marc Antony
I was privy to another fair rag, the San Diego Union-Tribune. I'm not sure if it is worse than the San Fran Chron, but it was close. The paper was free of any news or substance; it serves better purpose as cage liner. Perhaps, alluding to our second week's guest, we might have to destroy the newspaper industry in order to save it.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Star's eclipse
I was wandering around downtown, when I found this plaque for the defunct Los Angeles Star- Lala land's first rag.
"Site of Los Angeles Star. State Historic Landmark 789. 300 Block of North Main
On May 17, 1851, newspaper publishing began in Los Angeles when the first issue of the La Estrella de Los Angeles was printed in a small two-story frame house fronting Los Angeles Street. The bilingual weekly paper had four 18" x 24" pages, two of which were in Spanish and two were in English. The newspaper moved the following year to the site on Main Street memorialized by the State of California plaque.
In 1852, the Star published a series of 22 articles written by Hugo Reid, a Scottish immigrant living in present day Baldwin Park. These articles, which are the most comprehensive and thorough ethnographic portrait of the Native Americans of Los Angeles County, exposed their plight at the twilight of their existence.
During the Civil War, the newspaper espoused succession and the Southern cause and finally in October, 1864, it ceased publishing. (Ed note: italics inserted because that last point is too weird) The printing press was sold to Phineas Banning, who used it to publish the Wilmington Journal. Later, the press was used to publish Orange County's first newspaper, the Anaheim Gazette.
In 1868, the Star began publishing again. During the 1870s, the Star went through a series of owners until 1879, when it went bankrupt and ceased publishing for good."
How bizarre, an LA paper calling for Confederate succession. I was planning on using this for my Then and Now presentation, but I have something else cooking over Greek fire.
"Site of Los Angeles Star. State Historic Landmark 789. 300 Block of North Main
On May 17, 1851, newspaper publishing began in Los Angeles when the first issue of the La Estrella de Los Angeles was printed in a small two-story frame house fronting Los Angeles Street. The bilingual weekly paper had four 18" x 24" pages, two of which were in Spanish and two were in English. The newspaper moved the following year to the site on Main Street memorialized by the State of California plaque.
In 1852, the Star published a series of 22 articles written by Hugo Reid, a Scottish immigrant living in present day Baldwin Park. These articles, which are the most comprehensive and thorough ethnographic portrait of the Native Americans of Los Angeles County, exposed their plight at the twilight of their existence.
During the Civil War, the newspaper espoused succession and the Southern cause and finally in October, 1864, it ceased publishing. (Ed note: italics inserted because that last point is too weird) The printing press was sold to Phineas Banning, who used it to publish the Wilmington Journal. Later, the press was used to publish Orange County's first newspaper, the Anaheim Gazette.
In 1868, the Star began publishing again. During the 1870s, the Star went through a series of owners until 1879, when it went bankrupt and ceased publishing for good."
How bizarre, an LA paper calling for Confederate succession. I was planning on using this for my Then and Now presentation, but I have something else cooking over Greek fire.
O Lazarus of California
"The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated."
-Mark Twain
Did the California section get revived? There seemed to be a whole California section in my sunday newspaper. Did the LA Times get so much flack that the change didn't last a week?
-Mark Twain
Did the California section get revived? There seemed to be a whole California section in my sunday newspaper. Did the LA Times get so much flack that the change didn't last a week?
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Newseum Front Page Flash
Check out this really cool graphic from the Newseum: Today's Front Page. It shows the newspaper front page for newspapers all over the globe.
Color-blind only
Watching the Metamorphosis presentation, and realizing that it discriminates against a not-very-vocal minority: the colorblind. I am colorblind and I can't see a difference in a bunch of the slide's graphs.
On such a winter's day
"all the leaves are brown
and the sky is grey"
-Mamas and Papas, "California Dreaming"
So long California section of the LA Times. I don't know if it disappeared today, or today was the just the first day I noticed it. It came to my attention when I noticed the obituaries in the front page section. Somehow that seems too apropos. I know many were furious about the end of the California section, but honestly I don't see the big deal. The California section was a few local stories and the dead pages. Not such a big thing to tuck that into the more widely read front section. I actually think it makes sense to have the state and local news combined in with the national and international stuff. Granted, I am not a Californian and have only been here for a few months, so that skews my perspective on the local news. But so not a big deal like the critics were contending.
and the sky is grey"
-Mamas and Papas, "California Dreaming"
So long California section of the LA Times. I don't know if it disappeared today, or today was the just the first day I noticed it. It came to my attention when I noticed the obituaries in the front page section. Somehow that seems too apropos. I know many were furious about the end of the California section, but honestly I don't see the big deal. The California section was a few local stories and the dead pages. Not such a big thing to tuck that into the more widely read front section. I actually think it makes sense to have the state and local news combined in with the national and international stuff. Granted, I am not a Californian and have only been here for a few months, so that skews my perspective on the local news. But so not a big deal like the critics were contending.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Sunday news roundup
Nothing like sitting in the hammock, basking in the warm LA sun on a lazy sunday morning and reading about the demise of journalism. Can't do that with my laptop, the sun would cause too much glare on the screen. O simple pleasures. A good piece by James Rainey about how the quirky SF Chron fit the quirky city. Also a good cartoon below:
Meanwhile, I heard Prof. Westphal on Marketplace last week and asked if he tweeted to promote the story. Full disclosure, I may scoff at twitter, but I ran to that application and to update my facebook status to shamelessly promote my own Marketplace piece.
Meanwhile, I heard Prof. Westphal on Marketplace last week and asked if he tweeted to promote the story. Full disclosure, I may scoff at twitter, but I ran to that application and to update my facebook status to shamelessly promote my own Marketplace piece.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Rocky Mountain low
It seems our class is a little too timely. The Rocky Mountain News is shutting down. Perhaps we should have a weekly wake.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Obama and the Ethnic Press
For all Ethnic press group, check out this article in the LA Times about Obama and the Ethnic Press.
The thorns of rosebud
Hearst is rolling in his grave. Related to a previous post about the SF Chron woes, it appears the paper is indeed being sold or shut down.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
A death continually foretold
Salon has an article this week about our fav topic, death o' journalism and how to stave off such an ugly picture.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
A death foretold
I was going to post the Harper's mag article that I mentioned in class, on the death of the literary publishing industry, but I will save you all the monotonous drivel and instead offer you some of my own. My lord, Harper's can be boring sometimes. Anyway, the point is to remind everyone that it isn't just the newspaper industry that is hurting. As Prof. Cowan said, it is all the various content industries that are having issues in this brave new world. Once it is available I will post it, but fair warning, it is both dense and dull. (a rousing endorsement indeed!)
Monday, February 9, 2009
Chronicle of woe
While Tim may be lamenting the state of his fair paper, I was just in San Fran and the SF Chronicle seems to be in far worse shape. The thing was a rag of its former self. There was so little news of any sort, I think the Daily Trojan might be meatier. No foreign correspondents, only AP. Minimal national news. It was pathetic. And I remember the paper some 4 years ago being a quality news source. Sad times for the SF Chron. I practically hugged my LA Times when I got home.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Sarko's paper experiment
As mentioned in class by Julien, here is a link to the story about France and free newspapers for kids
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Frost/Nixon
I finally saw the movie Frost/Nixon tonight, it was phenomenal. Frank Langella gives a truly affective performance. He gives a creepy, golem-esque shade to Tricky Dick, one that makes him seem like he is about to eat puppies. I was almost reminded of Heath Ledger's performance of Joker in the Dark Knight.
Especially in light of our All The President's Men discussion, it makes the movie even more riveting. I am very curious to see the real interviews because I feel there was probably a lot of Hollywoodization of this particular story.
PS: a little history on the term "The Fourth Estate." Thanks wikipedia. And on that note, the encyclopedias are getting screwed too- by that new fangled contraption called the internet. As are travel agents. Just ask the candle makers, horse-and-buggy drivers and whalers what havoc new technology can bring.
PPS: An interesting op-ed today in the LA Times by Tim Rutten about newspapers and anti-trust exemptions
Especially in light of our All The President's Men discussion, it makes the movie even more riveting. I am very curious to see the real interviews because I feel there was probably a lot of Hollywoodization of this particular story.
PS: a little history on the term "The Fourth Estate." Thanks wikipedia. And on that note, the encyclopedias are getting screwed too- by that new fangled contraption called the internet. As are travel agents. Just ask the candle makers, horse-and-buggy drivers and whalers what havoc new technology can bring.
PPS: An interesting op-ed today in the LA Times by Tim Rutten about newspapers and anti-trust exemptions
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Twittering
So I joined twitter, and already I think it is stupid. I can't figure out why I should do it or how it is any different than the status bar on facebook. Inane. All this junk just seems to me to be a trivial pursuit. Who knows, maybe I will change my tune and get hooked.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Family History in Journalism
My own connection to journalism has a little history to it, one that I have learned along the way. There is an award with my name on it, the Rockower Awards. Actually not my name but the name of my great-Grandfather Simon. The Simon Rockower Awards are the equivalent of the Pulitzer prize for Jewish Journalism. It is the award given by the American Jewish Press Association for excellence in Jewish journalism.
My other familial connection to journalism is my cousin Elsa Black and her husband Creed Black. Creed Black was the president and CEO of the Knight Foundation, and before that an editor, president and chairman for a number of other paper. Elsa was on the editorial board of the Philadelphia Inquirer. I asked Elsa and Creed to take a guest column on the blog about the good ol' days of the newspaper world. From Elsa:
"Anyway, Creed and I would be delighted to send some posts about journalism in the “olden days.” As a preview, I’ll tell you that when I left the newspaper business in late 1977, I still typed on a manual typewriter (we were just starting baby steps towards computerization) and copy went to the composing room via pneumatic tubes. Talk about life in the dinosaur age!! Anyway, as they used to write, “MTK”—“more to come."
Their post will appear later this semester.
My other familial connection to journalism is my cousin Elsa Black and her husband Creed Black. Creed Black was the president and CEO of the Knight Foundation, and before that an editor, president and chairman for a number of other paper. Elsa was on the editorial board of the Philadelphia Inquirer. I asked Elsa and Creed to take a guest column on the blog about the good ol' days of the newspaper world. From Elsa:
"Anyway, Creed and I would be delighted to send some posts about journalism in the “olden days.” As a preview, I’ll tell you that when I left the newspaper business in late 1977, I still typed on a manual typewriter (we were just starting baby steps towards computerization) and copy went to the composing room via pneumatic tubes. Talk about life in the dinosaur age!! Anyway, as they used to write, “MTK”—“more to come."
Their post will appear later this semester.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Another one bites the dust
Alas, the once-bright Daily Star has been eclipsed. Lebanon's Daily Star is no more.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Somewhere between Alpha and Omega
A dear fellow named Johann Carolus started this business of the news rag. He created the first published newspaper, The Relation, or in its original German was titled the "Collection of all distinguished and commemorable news."
For those who don't subscribe to that antiquated thingee called a newspaper, the LA Times has an op-ed from Prof. Cowan and Prof. Westphal's wife on the future of the free press.
For those who don't subscribe to that antiquated thingee called a newspaper, the LA Times has an op-ed from Prof. Cowan and Prof. Westphal's wife on the future of the free press.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
O Brave New World
"Our world is not the same as Othello's world. You can't make flivvers without steel-and you can't make tragedies without social instability. The world's stable now. People are happy; they get what they want, and they never want what they can't get."
-Mustapha Mond, Aldous Huxley's Brave New World
"O brave new world," he repeated. "O brave new world that has such people in it. Let's start at once."
John quoting Shakespeare's The Tempest, Brave New World
This is a link to a distopian vision of the coming media war and death of the fourth estate. Beaming live from the Museum of Media History, it takes a look back from 2014 on the media war that transpires. Big thanks to Mrs. Amron, who sent this to me some 5 years ago, and was kind enough to dig it out of her email garbage box all these years later.
-Mustapha Mond, Aldous Huxley's Brave New World
"O brave new world," he repeated. "O brave new world that has such people in it. Let's start at once."
John quoting Shakespeare's The Tempest, Brave New World
This is a link to a distopian vision of the coming media war and death of the fourth estate. Beaming live from the Museum of Media History, it takes a look back from 2014 on the media war that transpires. Big thanks to Mrs. Amron, who sent this to me some 5 years ago, and was kind enough to dig it out of her email garbage box all these years later.
Friday, January 16, 2009
My new media blog
This is my new media blog for my Comm 599 class. It will deal with issues related to media and other assorted news and notes from the fourth estate. For any crossover readers from my other blog, they will recognize the template as the former style of my Levantine blog.
For starters, the opening post gets an interesting BBC article on the various disputes taking place in the Arab media over the various disputes taking place between the Arab governments on the situation in Gaza.
For starters, the opening post gets an interesting BBC article on the various disputes taking place in the Arab media over the various disputes taking place between the Arab governments on the situation in Gaza.
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