I don't think that I could go to jail for a principle, but that's because I'm a weakling. At the same time, I'd like to think that there are principles that are important enough to me that I would defend them by going to jail. So I reconcile these two somewhat conflicting thoughts by not putting myself in a position where I might have to choose between not betraying a source and ordering from that good Vietnamese place on Amsterdam whenever I want to.
So this morning, Judith Miller, she of the shoddy WMD reporting, went to jail for (ostensibly) a principle: namely that a reporter who has promised anonymity to a source should not give up that source's name to anyone, be they dressed in black robes or no. A friend and journalism school colleague argued vehemently to me last week that Norman Pearlstein, the editor of Time, Inc., should never have undermined HIS reporter, Matthew Cooper, by having the magazine turn over documents rather than having the reporter himself do it. Cooper, who was being held in contempt in the same case, sleeps at home tonight. This friend argued--and I agree--that while Pearlstein got Cooper out of an ethical jam, he ensured that no sensitive source would ever again speak off the record to Time. If editors and reporters cave, much of the journalism establishment would have it, there will be no more leaks of important information.
So this is where I take a deep breath and try to be a pundit, but it's where I come to one of the many reasons I'm not invited onto those shows. I'm a deliberative sort by nature, but I didn't have quite the gut reaction I expected in this case either. Something is weird here. And we don't know enough to know exactly what is going on. Even the Times's story confused me a little bit. There's Valerie Plame, who was the CIA agent whose name was leaked. This was supposedly in retaliation for an anti-WMD op-ed piece written by her husband. Of course, Judy Miller wrote the dodgy WMD stories for the Times. And of course, even though these confidential sources have now been revealed to the judge, we, the people, don't know who they are (Karl Rove). At least not officially. And it was the leak that was illegal in the first place. But if the judge now knows the sources, why put Miller in jail? Granted, she doesn't seem particularly likable, but that's not a punishable offense.
All of this just leaves me scratching my head as to the motives of Miller (though the LA Times hypothesizes that she's trying for a book deal--which my friend also mentioned, though she did so as a way of saying that a couple months in prison wouldn't be so bad. I continue scratching that same spot on my head about the judge's motives. Miller didn't even write a story about this leak--and Robert Novak did, though he's presumably cooperating. Honestly, even though I think he was wrong, it's Pearlstein's position I most understand. Criticize him for bowing to Time Warner shareholders, but the man also allowed his reporter to stand his ground AND hug his kid tonight.
I meant to say something about how happy I am to see Sarah Vowell subbing for Maureen Dowd, but that can wait a day. It's lights-out and the warden wants us in our bunks.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
The Myth of Audience
Until this moment, I haven't updated this blog since before Groundhog Day. This, of course, means that if I ever had an audience--Rachael, my sister, some high school kid from Prairie du Chien--it is now gone.
But I am going to do something that I tell my students to do when they write: imagine an audience. It's the only way that I can convince myself to make another post. Of course, I never quite knew who to imagine as a blog audience. Someday, maybe I'll elevate myself to a comfortably obscure position of prominence enjoyed by some of my favorite bloggers--Jim Romenesko and Jay Rosen. In certain circles, of course, they are widely read and widely known (Romenesko, especially). But if I were to ask normal people, like, say, my sisters, they wouldn't even recognize the name. That would be a perfectly fine level of recognition.
I tell my students that my ideal reader is my dad. This is not in any way meant as disrespect for my mother, but in some ways my mother, who holds a PhD and works in University administration, is too specialized. My father is an attorney, which to me represents a certain level of education and sophistication, but not necessarily specialization. And he also reads books. For fun. Which is something I personally think should be a requirement for active intelligent citizenship. All of my friends read books (save one, and I'm working on that). My reader, I should hope, has a general awareness of and interest in the world. That's who I'm thinking of when I write--media criticism, architectural reporting, blog entries. Not exactly my dad, but the archetype that my dad represents.
So, imagining that I have an audience that cares about me at all, I will say this, as a follow-up to my last couple of posts in the winter: I have been accepted into the PhD program in Media Studies at Rutgers University. I'm particularly excited to work with David Greenberg, whose book, Nixon's Shadow, I'm currently reading. Greenberg also writes the History Lesson column on Slate. Instead of linking to that though, I thought it would be more appropriate to link to another essay he wrote for Slate, in which he discusses the question of academics' audiences.
But I am going to do something that I tell my students to do when they write: imagine an audience. It's the only way that I can convince myself to make another post. Of course, I never quite knew who to imagine as a blog audience. Someday, maybe I'll elevate myself to a comfortably obscure position of prominence enjoyed by some of my favorite bloggers--Jim Romenesko and Jay Rosen. In certain circles, of course, they are widely read and widely known (Romenesko, especially). But if I were to ask normal people, like, say, my sisters, they wouldn't even recognize the name. That would be a perfectly fine level of recognition.
I tell my students that my ideal reader is my dad. This is not in any way meant as disrespect for my mother, but in some ways my mother, who holds a PhD and works in University administration, is too specialized. My father is an attorney, which to me represents a certain level of education and sophistication, but not necessarily specialization. And he also reads books. For fun. Which is something I personally think should be a requirement for active intelligent citizenship. All of my friends read books (save one, and I'm working on that). My reader, I should hope, has a general awareness of and interest in the world. That's who I'm thinking of when I write--media criticism, architectural reporting, blog entries. Not exactly my dad, but the archetype that my dad represents.
So, imagining that I have an audience that cares about me at all, I will say this, as a follow-up to my last couple of posts in the winter: I have been accepted into the PhD program in Media Studies at Rutgers University. I'm particularly excited to work with David Greenberg, whose book, Nixon's Shadow, I'm currently reading. Greenberg also writes the History Lesson column on Slate. Instead of linking to that though, I thought it would be more appropriate to link to another essay he wrote for Slate, in which he discusses the question of academics' audiences.
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
Where I'm going (with luck)
This is the promised follow-up to yesterday's application essay. This is Essay B, in which I was to explain why I want a doctorate in communications, what I wan to study, and what I want to do afterward. Here, in (slightly more than than) the mandated 500 words, is my answer:
Essay B
As a confirmed media junkie, and a subscriber to email newsletters such as Romenesko’s media news weblog and Slate’s daily summary of major papers, a great deal of my interest in pursuing communications as a discipline is self-serving. I do believe, however, that passion for a subject should be a requirement for seeking a doctorate, since I have seen even the most devoted student (in this case, my mother) struggle through a dissertation. I couldn’t imagine doing it without that passion.
I also feel that communications is, in at least one way, the most important of the academic disciplines because of two bridges that it creates. The first is the bridge among the various other disciplines with which it intersects—sociology, history, literature, economics, education, business, law, philosophy, and so on. The second is that it is a discipline that directly affects the public. I believe that one of the journalist’s most important functions is acting as a translator of specific knowledge for a general audience. I think that there is a parallel role for the scholar of communications, especially in his function as media and social critic, as a link between the academy and the culture at large. Some of the best and most influential “public intellectuals” were communications and media scholars even before there were such things.
One of my main areas of interest follows along those lines. As I outline in essay A, I was interested in the act of writing as a career before that interest solidified into a discipline, so I want to look at writers who wrote both fiction and journalism, and at the current bias against nonfiction forms of communication as art. I sense that a convincing link between fiction and nonfiction expression could be made through the application of narratology, and I would like to look into that, and the establishment of a nonfiction canon.
As a nascent educator who has been deeply involved in a large effort to create a “writing and literature” curriculum for my college, I am also excited about studying issues of writing and journalism education. As a Columbia master’s graduate, I’ve closely watched the debate that followed President Bollinger’s committee on the journalism school, and Dean Lemann’s additions and modifications to the curriculum. I’m interested in the professionalization of the craft, and the effort to get past the reputation that Columbia grad A. J. Liebling expressed in saying his journalism education had “all the intellectual status of a training school for future employees of the A&P.”
I am also very interested in media history, law, and ethics, and hope to study those topics as well.
I currently hold a tenure-track position at LaGuardia Community College, where I am very happy, and could return after earning the Ph.D., though I am interested in looking at other academic positions. I love teaching, and hope to continue it; and I think that with both a professional and an academic degree, and experience as both a journalist and an educator, I could offer a lot to colleges that teach both communications and journalism. Wherever I do end up teaching, I want to keep writing, both for an academic audience, and for the public, as a journalist and as a scholar.
Essay B
As a confirmed media junkie, and a subscriber to email newsletters such as Romenesko’s media news weblog and Slate’s daily summary of major papers, a great deal of my interest in pursuing communications as a discipline is self-serving. I do believe, however, that passion for a subject should be a requirement for seeking a doctorate, since I have seen even the most devoted student (in this case, my mother) struggle through a dissertation. I couldn’t imagine doing it without that passion.
I also feel that communications is, in at least one way, the most important of the academic disciplines because of two bridges that it creates. The first is the bridge among the various other disciplines with which it intersects—sociology, history, literature, economics, education, business, law, philosophy, and so on. The second is that it is a discipline that directly affects the public. I believe that one of the journalist’s most important functions is acting as a translator of specific knowledge for a general audience. I think that there is a parallel role for the scholar of communications, especially in his function as media and social critic, as a link between the academy and the culture at large. Some of the best and most influential “public intellectuals” were communications and media scholars even before there were such things.
One of my main areas of interest follows along those lines. As I outline in essay A, I was interested in the act of writing as a career before that interest solidified into a discipline, so I want to look at writers who wrote both fiction and journalism, and at the current bias against nonfiction forms of communication as art. I sense that a convincing link between fiction and nonfiction expression could be made through the application of narratology, and I would like to look into that, and the establishment of a nonfiction canon.
As a nascent educator who has been deeply involved in a large effort to create a “writing and literature” curriculum for my college, I am also excited about studying issues of writing and journalism education. As a Columbia master’s graduate, I’ve closely watched the debate that followed President Bollinger’s committee on the journalism school, and Dean Lemann’s additions and modifications to the curriculum. I’m interested in the professionalization of the craft, and the effort to get past the reputation that Columbia grad A. J. Liebling expressed in saying his journalism education had “all the intellectual status of a training school for future employees of the A&P.”
I am also very interested in media history, law, and ethics, and hope to study those topics as well.
I currently hold a tenure-track position at LaGuardia Community College, where I am very happy, and could return after earning the Ph.D., though I am interested in looking at other academic positions. I love teaching, and hope to continue it; and I think that with both a professional and an academic degree, and experience as both a journalist and an educator, I could offer a lot to colleges that teach both communications and journalism. Wherever I do end up teaching, I want to keep writing, both for an academic audience, and for the public, as a journalist and as a scholar.
Where I'm coming from
I just finished applying to the Columbia University Ph.D. program in communications, so as a special treat to my loyal reader (singular intended), I'm posting my application essays. Why the heck not?
This first installment, of two, is mostly biographical, but if there's anyone out there who isn't Rachael, I suppose this could give you an idea of how I came to be the (slow to blog) media hound that I am. Next up: why I want to study communications, and what I hope to do with the degree.
Essay A:
When I graduated from high school, I knew only that I wanted to be a writer, but I hadn’t narrowed it down any further than that. I had written maybe six short stories and one 80-some page “spy novel” with more than a small debt to Ian Fleming. But I was already a voracious reader, and language came easily to me, so I called myself a writer when I came to the University of Pennsylvania. I wasn’t then planning on becoming a journalism and communications professor and a media critic, but my academic and professional careers since then have led me clearly in that direction.
At Penn, I majored in English, practically declaring my major before I got to campus. By my junior year, I had almost taken enough literature courses to double major in English and English, and I was so sick of writing academic literary criticism that even though I had taken an interest in teaching, I ruled out a career as an English professor.
In the Fall of 1997, I studied in London, where I read and wrote about more literature, but more importantly had my first encounter with studying criticism, which would become a passion, taking a course in the current London theatre with Michael Billington, the critic for The Guardian. On my return, I took a course with Paul Hendrickson, who was then writing for the Style section of the Washington Post. This class, advanced non-fiction writing, was my first real exposure to journalism, and I liked it enough to change my concentration to creative non-fiction.
I also became involved with the Daily Pennsylvanian, Penn’s independent student newspaper. The same semester that I took Hendrickson’s course, I became the editor-in-chief of the newspaper’s weekly magazine, 34th Street. The magazine had always incorporated humor and snarky we-know-better-than-the-mainstream music and movie reviews—both of which I loved writing—but I made a real effort to commission magazine-style journalism for the cover stories. This allowed the magazine to hew closer to the traditions of journalistic excellence of its parent publication, where I also sat on the executive board.
That brought me to graduation with a slightly more concrete idea of what I wanted to do with my life. Academe appealed to me in principle, but I had eliminated English as a discipline, and I had thought of journalism more as a profession than as an academic discipline. So I did what every other graduating English major does: I applied to law school.
I also threw in one other application, and that was to the Columbia Graduate School of Journalism. Despite my innate repulsion at the idea of bugging strangers, I had taken to the idea of journalism because it was a profession that would keep me writing regularly. I hadn’t written a single short story since high school, but loved writing the reviews, essays, and journalism of 34th Street.
While the daily demands of the Fall reporting and writing class forced me to fight my shyness, I turned in work that I was proud of, and the final piece I wrote for the class, about Coney Island’s Wonder Wheel, appeared in the New York Times two weeks after my graduation. At Columbia, I particularly loved two courses. One was the magazine workshop, led by Victor Navasky, where I profiled The New Yorker’s cartoon editor, and wrote about Mad and Esquire. I also loved The Critic as Journalist and Essayist, taught by Michael Janeway. In this course, filled by students from both the journalism school and the school of the arts, I developed critical and essayistic skills that I hope to use in my career, writing media criticism.
While working at Architectural Record, as the magazine’s first web editor, most of my job consisted of reformatting stories from the magazine for publication on the web, which I found unfulfilling. I did, however, participate in the magazine’s award-winning coverage of the World Trade Center attacks and their architectural aftermath, writing a history of the buildings, and interviewing Kenneth Jackson, whose New York City history course I hope to be able to take. My biggest contribution to the magazine was my supervision of a new department devoted to covering young architects. I wrote a monthly profile of a promising emerging designer or firm, and the magazine gave me leeway to choose subjects and to write with style.
Hoping to find more work that I would find as intellectually stimulating as the young architects section, I had sent resumes to several local colleges. In September of 2002, the LaGuardia Community College English Department invited me to teach a journalism course. That academic year, I taught one or two courses per semester, while working half time at Record. Impressed by my student and peer evaluations, and despite my never having taught before, LaGuardia hired me as a full-time, tenure-track lecturer after only two semesters.
As the Department’s only journalist, I was given almost full control of the curriculum. I now regularly teach both the introductory reporting and writing class and a course that serves as an introduction to media studies. This Spring, I will be offering a magazine writing workshop. Outside of class, I developed a major in writing and literature for the College, created a course in creative non-fiction writing, and wrote a proposal to overhaul the Department’s journalism offerings.
I unequivocally love what I do now, teaching college students (despite often staying up until 2:00 a.m. to grade papers), and continuing to write as a freelancer. This mix of the theoretical and the practical has led me back to Columbia’s journalism school, this time to pursue the ideas behind what I do. As I read widely to prepare to teach my courses, I have become engrossed in the literature of media and communications, and I’m ready to study it formally. I’ve finally discovered the type of professor and writer that I want to be, and the Columbia program in Communications is where I want to finish becoming that person.
This first installment, of two, is mostly biographical, but if there's anyone out there who isn't Rachael, I suppose this could give you an idea of how I came to be the (slow to blog) media hound that I am. Next up: why I want to study communications, and what I hope to do with the degree.
Essay A:
When I graduated from high school, I knew only that I wanted to be a writer, but I hadn’t narrowed it down any further than that. I had written maybe six short stories and one 80-some page “spy novel” with more than a small debt to Ian Fleming. But I was already a voracious reader, and language came easily to me, so I called myself a writer when I came to the University of Pennsylvania. I wasn’t then planning on becoming a journalism and communications professor and a media critic, but my academic and professional careers since then have led me clearly in that direction.
At Penn, I majored in English, practically declaring my major before I got to campus. By my junior year, I had almost taken enough literature courses to double major in English and English, and I was so sick of writing academic literary criticism that even though I had taken an interest in teaching, I ruled out a career as an English professor.
In the Fall of 1997, I studied in London, where I read and wrote about more literature, but more importantly had my first encounter with studying criticism, which would become a passion, taking a course in the current London theatre with Michael Billington, the critic for The Guardian. On my return, I took a course with Paul Hendrickson, who was then writing for the Style section of the Washington Post. This class, advanced non-fiction writing, was my first real exposure to journalism, and I liked it enough to change my concentration to creative non-fiction.
I also became involved with the Daily Pennsylvanian, Penn’s independent student newspaper. The same semester that I took Hendrickson’s course, I became the editor-in-chief of the newspaper’s weekly magazine, 34th Street. The magazine had always incorporated humor and snarky we-know-better-than-the-mainstream music and movie reviews—both of which I loved writing—but I made a real effort to commission magazine-style journalism for the cover stories. This allowed the magazine to hew closer to the traditions of journalistic excellence of its parent publication, where I also sat on the executive board.
That brought me to graduation with a slightly more concrete idea of what I wanted to do with my life. Academe appealed to me in principle, but I had eliminated English as a discipline, and I had thought of journalism more as a profession than as an academic discipline. So I did what every other graduating English major does: I applied to law school.
I also threw in one other application, and that was to the Columbia Graduate School of Journalism. Despite my innate repulsion at the idea of bugging strangers, I had taken to the idea of journalism because it was a profession that would keep me writing regularly. I hadn’t written a single short story since high school, but loved writing the reviews, essays, and journalism of 34th Street.
While the daily demands of the Fall reporting and writing class forced me to fight my shyness, I turned in work that I was proud of, and the final piece I wrote for the class, about Coney Island’s Wonder Wheel, appeared in the New York Times two weeks after my graduation. At Columbia, I particularly loved two courses. One was the magazine workshop, led by Victor Navasky, where I profiled The New Yorker’s cartoon editor, and wrote about Mad and Esquire. I also loved The Critic as Journalist and Essayist, taught by Michael Janeway. In this course, filled by students from both the journalism school and the school of the arts, I developed critical and essayistic skills that I hope to use in my career, writing media criticism.
While working at Architectural Record, as the magazine’s first web editor, most of my job consisted of reformatting stories from the magazine for publication on the web, which I found unfulfilling. I did, however, participate in the magazine’s award-winning coverage of the World Trade Center attacks and their architectural aftermath, writing a history of the buildings, and interviewing Kenneth Jackson, whose New York City history course I hope to be able to take. My biggest contribution to the magazine was my supervision of a new department devoted to covering young architects. I wrote a monthly profile of a promising emerging designer or firm, and the magazine gave me leeway to choose subjects and to write with style.
Hoping to find more work that I would find as intellectually stimulating as the young architects section, I had sent resumes to several local colleges. In September of 2002, the LaGuardia Community College English Department invited me to teach a journalism course. That academic year, I taught one or two courses per semester, while working half time at Record. Impressed by my student and peer evaluations, and despite my never having taught before, LaGuardia hired me as a full-time, tenure-track lecturer after only two semesters.
As the Department’s only journalist, I was given almost full control of the curriculum. I now regularly teach both the introductory reporting and writing class and a course that serves as an introduction to media studies. This Spring, I will be offering a magazine writing workshop. Outside of class, I developed a major in writing and literature for the College, created a course in creative non-fiction writing, and wrote a proposal to overhaul the Department’s journalism offerings.
I unequivocally love what I do now, teaching college students (despite often staying up until 2:00 a.m. to grade papers), and continuing to write as a freelancer. This mix of the theoretical and the practical has led me back to Columbia’s journalism school, this time to pursue the ideas behind what I do. As I read widely to prepare to teach my courses, I have become engrossed in the literature of media and communications, and I’m ready to study it formally. I’ve finally discovered the type of professor and writer that I want to be, and the Columbia program in Communications is where I want to finish becoming that person.
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Hillbilly armor
A question from my personal gadfly, Rachael:
"is Pitts completely unethical or a brilliant journalist? What say you?"
My thought is that the answer, as you might have guessed, lies somewhere between the two poles you offer, Rachael, though I do lean toward "brilliant journalist." In fact, I think I might clear him entirely if he had disclosed in his article that he had planted the question. Of course, the waters are muddied again because the soldier told some newsweekly--Time, maybe--that he thought the question up himself. That would, of course, absolve Pitts of ethical wrongdoing, but would also strip him of any credit for getting the quote.
In general though, I think the principle you need to follow is that if you can't get access yourself, there's nothing at all wrong with using proxies--so long as the proxies get their credit, and you practice full disclosure.
"is Pitts completely unethical or a brilliant journalist? What say you?"
My thought is that the answer, as you might have guessed, lies somewhere between the two poles you offer, Rachael, though I do lean toward "brilliant journalist." In fact, I think I might clear him entirely if he had disclosed in his article that he had planted the question. Of course, the waters are muddied again because the soldier told some newsweekly--Time, maybe--that he thought the question up himself. That would, of course, absolve Pitts of ethical wrongdoing, but would also strip him of any credit for getting the quote.
In general though, I think the principle you need to follow is that if you can't get access yourself, there's nothing at all wrong with using proxies--so long as the proxies get their credit, and you practice full disclosure.
Friday, November 26, 2004
Game Theory
All hail the video game critic!
Now I don't play video games much myself. I leave that to my personal video game adviser, Jason, who, frankly, does play video games much. And yet, even though I have no real need for a video game reviewer, I find myself, almost weekly, turning to the "Game Theory" column of the New York Times's Circuits section. Charles Herold is the reviewer there, and he has forged what, for me, is the perfect voice for a critic. He is personable and first-person. He acknowledges conflicting points of view, but stands by his own experience. And he accepts that he has a really fun job.
While I'm at it, I want to give similar kudos to the New York Observer for its movie reviewing (even though I've let my subscription drop). The Observer, the pleasantly pink weekly, also gives its two reviewers real columns where they can develop trustworthy (or otherwise) personae. Of the two, I find the venerable and aged auteurist Andrew Sarris to be a cinematic soul mate, at least when it comes to enjoying movies or not. I rarely ever agree with his counterpart Rex Reed. What's fun is that the Observer lets them overlap from time to time, unlike more staid papers that take an official position.
In short, I like a bit of personality in my criticism. I think it's charmingly old-fashioned--and more accurate.
Now I don't play video games much myself. I leave that to my personal video game adviser, Jason, who, frankly, does play video games much. And yet, even though I have no real need for a video game reviewer, I find myself, almost weekly, turning to the "Game Theory" column of the New York Times's Circuits section. Charles Herold is the reviewer there, and he has forged what, for me, is the perfect voice for a critic. He is personable and first-person. He acknowledges conflicting points of view, but stands by his own experience. And he accepts that he has a really fun job.
While I'm at it, I want to give similar kudos to the New York Observer for its movie reviewing (even though I've let my subscription drop). The Observer, the pleasantly pink weekly, also gives its two reviewers real columns where they can develop trustworthy (or otherwise) personae. Of the two, I find the venerable and aged auteurist Andrew Sarris to be a cinematic soul mate, at least when it comes to enjoying movies or not. I rarely ever agree with his counterpart Rex Reed. What's fun is that the Observer lets them overlap from time to time, unlike more staid papers that take an official position.
In short, I like a bit of personality in my criticism. I think it's charmingly old-fashioned--and more accurate.
Saturday, November 20, 2004
Saul Survivor
This week's New Yorker has a story by Roger Angell about the Red Sox winning the World Series. The accompanying illustration is a colored-pencil drawing of a fanciful, physics-defying ballpark. As the work of Saul Steinberg goes, I actually like this piece. And the fact that Steinberg has been dead for five years doesn't change how I feel about the drawing--at least that fact on its own doesn't.
But the late Saul Steinberg may very well be the most frequent contributor to the New Yorker. A couple of weeks ago, he even had a drawing on the cover. Some of these primitivist drawings work for me; some don't. But I'm sick of seeing them.
Steinberg is probably most famous for a cover drawing he did, with Manhattan in the foreground, and everything east of the Hudson river reduced to insignificant specks. While that may accurately reflect my worldview, I don't think it's grounds for continuing to run the man's works approximately every two weeks. And I don't think I'm exaggerating. I find more of the drawings downright bad than good enough to be running in the country's best magazine.
So to the art department of the New Yorker: let's give some living artists a try. I know there are some good ones out there.
But the late Saul Steinberg may very well be the most frequent contributor to the New Yorker. A couple of weeks ago, he even had a drawing on the cover. Some of these primitivist drawings work for me; some don't. But I'm sick of seeing them.
Steinberg is probably most famous for a cover drawing he did, with Manhattan in the foreground, and everything east of the Hudson river reduced to insignificant specks. While that may accurately reflect my worldview, I don't think it's grounds for continuing to run the man's works approximately every two weeks. And I don't think I'm exaggerating. I find more of the drawings downright bad than good enough to be running in the country's best magazine.
So to the art department of the New Yorker: let's give some living artists a try. I know there are some good ones out there.
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
Howl, howl, oh Howell!
My class and I have been discussing Howell Raines, Jayson Blair, and that whole fiasco this week. And since it's verging on a month since I've posted anything to this blog, I thought it appropriate to share this parody I wrote of Allen Ginsberg's "Howl."
Howell
By Kevin Lerner, with appropriate apologies
I.
I saw the best writers of a new generation destroy with plagiarism, borrowing
hysterical faking
dragging the gray lady through the negro—not that it mattered that he was negro—streets
at dawn
who passed through the University of Maryland without degree,
who cowered in apartment in Brooklyn, cell phone expense report
West Virginia claimed
who described tobacco fields and interviews never had, cell phone to photographer
lied I’m coming
who racked up corrections, setting A2 records, earning weeks off for mental health,
warnings from Landman
who despite said warnings earns promotion to National, sniper coverage,
Maryland officials exclusive source ghosts
who read avidly the San Antonio Express-News
who told the Observer idiot editors couldn’t catch fabrications and borrowings,
anonymous sources from whole cloth
who refused to fade silently, feeding Pappu Romanesko chatrooms
pundits for weeks
who fueled Jay’s jokes, laugh lines from Letterman, a town hall meeting of those who
strive to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human prose
who brought down the Raines from heaven and Boyd who stand before you speechless
and intelligent and shaking with shame, rejected yet confessing out the soul.
II.
What Sphinx of talent and burnout and too many second chances bashed open our skulls
and brought ignominy to the mighty Ochs and Sulzberger trust, and yet could still
Bragg about his wiles?
Jayson! Jayson whose mind is pure machinery! Whose fingers are ten armies destroying
the Power and the Glory!
Jayson! Jayson! Jayson of Brooklyn, whose mind is running book deals!
Jayson! The low point of 152 years of history!
Howell
By Kevin Lerner, with appropriate apologies
I.
I saw the best writers of a new generation destroy with plagiarism, borrowing
hysterical faking
dragging the gray lady through the negro—not that it mattered that he was negro—streets
at dawn
who passed through the University of Maryland without degree,
who cowered in apartment in Brooklyn, cell phone expense report
West Virginia claimed
who described tobacco fields and interviews never had, cell phone to photographer
lied I’m coming
who racked up corrections, setting A2 records, earning weeks off for mental health,
warnings from Landman
who despite said warnings earns promotion to National, sniper coverage,
Maryland officials exclusive source ghosts
who read avidly the San Antonio Express-News
who told the Observer idiot editors couldn’t catch fabrications and borrowings,
anonymous sources from whole cloth
who refused to fade silently, feeding Pappu Romanesko chatrooms
pundits for weeks
who fueled Jay’s jokes, laugh lines from Letterman, a town hall meeting of those who
strive to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human prose
who brought down the Raines from heaven and Boyd who stand before you speechless
and intelligent and shaking with shame, rejected yet confessing out the soul.
II.
What Sphinx of talent and burnout and too many second chances bashed open our skulls
and brought ignominy to the mighty Ochs and Sulzberger trust, and yet could still
Bragg about his wiles?
Jayson! Jayson whose mind is pure machinery! Whose fingers are ten armies destroying
the Power and the Glory!
Jayson! Jayson! Jayson of Brooklyn, whose mind is running book deals!
Jayson! The low point of 152 years of history!
Thursday, October 21, 2004
The Curse of the Bamb-me-no
Red Sox fans are supposed to be the ones blaming themselves for 86 years of misery, not me. But I'm growing more and more convinced that I'm to blame for the lack of a championship in the Bronx since 2000.
In the Spring of 2000, just before the start of the season, I was interviewed for a job as an editor of Yankees Magazine, the souvenir program. After the first person offered the job had failed a background check, I was given the offer. I thought it over for an evening, and then called back to turn it down. The pay and the working conditions were going to be terrible, though had the Yanks won, I would have gotten a cut of the World Series check and my very own ring.
That summer, I wrote and published an article about that interview experience. It ran in New York Magazine in July. That Fall, the Yankees lost to the Diamondbacks in the Series. They haven't won since, and a few minutes ago, they collapsed monumentally against the Sox. Am I to blame? Probably not. It would be a delusion of grandeur to put myself on a historical plane with the Babe. But when you're a miserable fan--and when all of the world is rooting for you to lose--it's hard not to kick yourself.
In the Spring of 2000, just before the start of the season, I was interviewed for a job as an editor of Yankees Magazine, the souvenir program. After the first person offered the job had failed a background check, I was given the offer. I thought it over for an evening, and then called back to turn it down. The pay and the working conditions were going to be terrible, though had the Yanks won, I would have gotten a cut of the World Series check and my very own ring.
That summer, I wrote and published an article about that interview experience. It ran in New York Magazine in July. That Fall, the Yankees lost to the Diamondbacks in the Series. They haven't won since, and a few minutes ago, they collapsed monumentally against the Sox. Am I to blame? Probably not. It would be a delusion of grandeur to put myself on a historical plane with the Babe. But when you're a miserable fan--and when all of the world is rooting for you to lose--it's hard not to kick yourself.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
Poll-itzer Prizes
A day after I commented on the Washington Post's Daily Tracking Poll, the New York Times ran its own poll (in conjunction with CBS). But I'm more interested in the sidebar article that tries to explain the methodology behind all of the various news organizations' polls.
I'm thoroughly ambivalent about the idea of polls as journalism, but I do like the fact that this article admits to their being an inexact science. I only wish that the poll itself had been a sidebar to this.
I'm thoroughly ambivalent about the idea of polls as journalism, but I do like the fact that this article admits to their being an inexact science. I only wish that the poll itself had been a sidebar to this.
Monday, October 18, 2004
Survey says
I'm addicted to the Washington Post's Daily Tracking Poll, and I would get the DTs if they took it away.
But I'm convinced it's bad for journalism. Other pundits have talked about how stories covering campaign tactics to the detriment of policy take away from the seriousness of political coverage. I agree, and I think that polls turn politics into a sport. I say this while I'm watching the Yankees. Reason tells me that I should hate the Yankees. They're overpaid, even by Major League Baseball standards. They win more often than any other team. They're inherently unlikeable. And yet I live and die by Yankees games. Several of my New York City colleagues today commented on how they went to bed at 1:30 a.m. today, after watching the Red Sox steal a game from the Yanks. We have an undeniable emotional connection, though, and no amount of reason (including calculations of hours of sleep) can convince us to cheer for another team.
And the same, I believe, is becoming true of politics. I believe that the unwavering certainty that Ron Suskind ascribes to George W. Bush in yesterday's New York Times Magazine is also infecting the electorate--and on both sides of the aisle. And all we care about is win or lose. I'm as much of a victim of this attitude as anyone.
Republicans are sure W will win. Democrats are sure W will win. Bostonians are sure the Sox will lose (and they're right). But despite the positive blip Kerry got in the polls after the debates (which I liken to the Red Sox 12th-inning win last night) served only to give Democrats their requisite moment of faith before sliding back into their resignation.
I watch the Washington Post daily tracking poll like I read the sports scores. I read other papers' polls--and automatically dismiss the ones with which I disagree. Americans, for the most part, know for whom they will vote in two weeks. The rest is box scores.
But I'm convinced it's bad for journalism. Other pundits have talked about how stories covering campaign tactics to the detriment of policy take away from the seriousness of political coverage. I agree, and I think that polls turn politics into a sport. I say this while I'm watching the Yankees. Reason tells me that I should hate the Yankees. They're overpaid, even by Major League Baseball standards. They win more often than any other team. They're inherently unlikeable. And yet I live and die by Yankees games. Several of my New York City colleagues today commented on how they went to bed at 1:30 a.m. today, after watching the Red Sox steal a game from the Yanks. We have an undeniable emotional connection, though, and no amount of reason (including calculations of hours of sleep) can convince us to cheer for another team.
And the same, I believe, is becoming true of politics. I believe that the unwavering certainty that Ron Suskind ascribes to George W. Bush in yesterday's New York Times Magazine is also infecting the electorate--and on both sides of the aisle. And all we care about is win or lose. I'm as much of a victim of this attitude as anyone.
Republicans are sure W will win. Democrats are sure W will win. Bostonians are sure the Sox will lose (and they're right). But despite the positive blip Kerry got in the polls after the debates (which I liken to the Red Sox 12th-inning win last night) served only to give Democrats their requisite moment of faith before sliding back into their resignation.
I watch the Washington Post daily tracking poll like I read the sports scores. I read other papers' polls--and automatically dismiss the ones with which I disagree. Americans, for the most part, know for whom they will vote in two weeks. The rest is box scores.
Sunday, October 17, 2004
Catching up
I've been buried under reading for my classes, and grading student papers, but I have been keeping at least one eye on the media. One night last week, I had to triple-task between the debates, the Yankees, and a stack of papers.
Last week, Daniel Okrent, the Times Public Editor, addressed the question of whether or not the Times is biased toward one campaign or another. I generally tend to agree with his assessment, that no, it's not particularly biased. But then, I also have to admit my liberal tendencies--an admission which may undermine my following argument, but then I don't know what to do about that, except to ask for the reader's trust.
This week, Okrent invited two guest columnists to fill his column. Of course, neither of these columnists agreed with Okrent, which was both predictable, and Okrent's point. Todd Gitlin, a sociologist and journalism professor at Columbia, took the liberal approach, using the argument that being overly "balanced" tipped things in Bush's direction.
Bob Kohn wrote from the Right. He wrote that while the Times may make a good effort to accurately portray Bush's approach to policy, the paper undercuts that evenness by running articles about political issues that fall solidly on the side Bush is not on.
My response to both arguments is the same, and one I have expressed in this space before. One side of an issue can actually be the wrong side of the issue, and mere stenography--which is what Gitlin is accusing the Times of committing--does a disservice to the public. I agree with this, but I direct Gitlin toward Kohn's point. The Times may be committing stenography when it covers what Bush says, but in its surrounding coverage, that error is mitigated. The man, after all, is technically President of the United States, and what he says deserves to be heard, whether or not it is agreed with.
--
In two other notes, the Times Magazine this week ran what I had thought until today was the most important non-covered story of the Presidential election, which is the full story, so much as anyone can access it, of Bush's faith and its effect on government policy. Frank Rich writes about the Bush administration's closed-door press policy, and does so much better than I could, so I leave the story to him.
Last week, Daniel Okrent, the Times Public Editor, addressed the question of whether or not the Times is biased toward one campaign or another. I generally tend to agree with his assessment, that no, it's not particularly biased. But then, I also have to admit my liberal tendencies--an admission which may undermine my following argument, but then I don't know what to do about that, except to ask for the reader's trust.
This week, Okrent invited two guest columnists to fill his column. Of course, neither of these columnists agreed with Okrent, which was both predictable, and Okrent's point. Todd Gitlin, a sociologist and journalism professor at Columbia, took the liberal approach, using the argument that being overly "balanced" tipped things in Bush's direction.
Bob Kohn wrote from the Right. He wrote that while the Times may make a good effort to accurately portray Bush's approach to policy, the paper undercuts that evenness by running articles about political issues that fall solidly on the side Bush is not on.
My response to both arguments is the same, and one I have expressed in this space before. One side of an issue can actually be the wrong side of the issue, and mere stenography--which is what Gitlin is accusing the Times of committing--does a disservice to the public. I agree with this, but I direct Gitlin toward Kohn's point. The Times may be committing stenography when it covers what Bush says, but in its surrounding coverage, that error is mitigated. The man, after all, is technically President of the United States, and what he says deserves to be heard, whether or not it is agreed with.
--
In two other notes, the Times Magazine this week ran what I had thought until today was the most important non-covered story of the Presidential election, which is the full story, so much as anyone can access it, of Bush's faith and its effect on government policy. Frank Rich writes about the Bush administration's closed-door press policy, and does so much better than I could, so I leave the story to him.
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
An opinion can't be wrong, but...
The New York Times editorial in tomorrow's paper about tonight's VP debate seems to be the result of wishful thinking on the editorialists' part. The editorial seems to think that Edwards was the clear winner of the debate, and while I would wish that were so, I have to disagree.
But this blog is not about my politics. It is about the media. And as American libel law history has made clear, everyone has the right to his opinion, but no one is allowed his own facts. The Times here, seems to be guilty of a little spin of its own in its interpretation of a much fuzzier debate than this editorial describes.
But this blog is not about my politics. It is about the media. And as American libel law history has made clear, everyone has the right to his opinion, but no one is allowed his own facts. The Times here, seems to be guilty of a little spin of its own in its interpretation of a much fuzzier debate than this editorial describes.
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
The New York Times Book Review Review
This weekend, the New York Times unveiled its new designs for its various Arts & Leisure sections and the Book Review. My personal jury is still out on the revisions, but I'm inclined to like them. The general idea seems to have been to move towards a more magazine-like presentation of the material.
Any time you create a "department," as magazines are prone to do, there's going to be a shakedown period. It seems to me that that's where the Times is at the moment, but expect fuller comments from me in the future.
Any time you create a "department," as magazines are prone to do, there's going to be a shakedown period. It seems to me that that's where the Times is at the moment, but expect fuller comments from me in the future.
Sunday, October 03, 2004
All aboard, America
Though it's not media in the press sense of the word, advertising does fit. I want to commend Amtrak's recent Northeast corridor advertisements. Though they're thoroughly modern, they capture something of the romance of vinatage Deco train and ship posters.
And you can buy 'em cheap, too.
And you can buy 'em cheap, too.
Friday, September 24, 2004
Senators be damned
It doesn't pertain exactly to the media, but I wanted to be on the record with this. Assuming Major League Baseball finalizes the move of the Montreal Expos to Washington, DC, I'd like to suggest that they call the team the "Monuments."
My friend Daniel prefers that they be sponsored by the Homeland Security Department, but I stand by my choice. Daniel, however, did seem to like my suggestion that the Washington Monuments play with pointy bats.
My friend Daniel prefers that they be sponsored by the Homeland Security Department, but I stand by my choice. Daniel, however, did seem to like my suggestion that the Washington Monuments play with pointy bats.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Fair and Balanced
The Chicago Tribune's Public Editor wrote today about reader complaints that his newspaper was not fair and balanced the way a newspaper should be. His answer--which is that the news is a collaborative process and that sometimes reader complaints are valid--is true, but there is more going on, and it's not liberal bias, exactly.
(I do believe that the press has a duty to be "liberal" as part of its mission, but that's another blog. And before you dismiss me as a liberal tool, note the quotation marks; I promise to explain at a later date.)
What's going on in this Tribune case is that the public has been led to believe that journalism should be unbiased (which, in the American tradition, is the standard). But many people interpret this to mean that "there are two sides to every story" and that the newspaperman's job is to lay out all of the facts and let the reader figure out what's true and what's not. It's Fox News's slogan (though not their practice). However, that's not the case.
Not every story has two stories, and not every fact is true, just because someone said it. It's the journalist's job to serve as the filter and to some extent, the analyst of news. And if that means choosing to put one candidate's speech higher on the front page than another, that doesn't equate to bias. Calling statements into question doesn't equate to bias--as long as it's done across the board. That's what it means to be a fair and balanced journalist--not giving equal time and space to all comers.
(I do believe that the press has a duty to be "liberal" as part of its mission, but that's another blog. And before you dismiss me as a liberal tool, note the quotation marks; I promise to explain at a later date.)
What's going on in this Tribune case is that the public has been led to believe that journalism should be unbiased (which, in the American tradition, is the standard). But many people interpret this to mean that "there are two sides to every story" and that the newspaperman's job is to lay out all of the facts and let the reader figure out what's true and what's not. It's Fox News's slogan (though not their practice). However, that's not the case.
Not every story has two stories, and not every fact is true, just because someone said it. It's the journalist's job to serve as the filter and to some extent, the analyst of news. And if that means choosing to put one candidate's speech higher on the front page than another, that doesn't equate to bias. Calling statements into question doesn't equate to bias--as long as it's done across the board. That's what it means to be a fair and balanced journalist--not giving equal time and space to all comers.
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
Union Man
Here is another story I did this week for Architectural Record. This one is about the architect Thom Mayne and his new design for the Cooper Union in New York.
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
Tick Tock
Though CBS has now acknowledged that the Bush memos are forgeries, much about them still remains a mystery. This Washington Post article is the best reporting on the whole process CBS followed (through yesterday) that I've seen.
Friday, September 17, 2004
Inconclusive
Newspapers have an obligation to report as much information as they have in as accurate a characterization as they can manage.
This morning, USA Today reported that its own poll showed Bush ahead of Kerry. But it stuffs the news that two other polls still have the competitors in a statistical dead heat down in the 8th paragraph. The headline supports the lead (though an abbreviated headline on the website mentions both).
USA Today should not privilege its own poll over equally valid polls in order to have a scoop or even to tout the fact that it conducted a poll in the first place. Give the whole news--which is still that no one knows who's gonna win this thing.
This morning, USA Today reported that its own poll showed Bush ahead of Kerry. But it stuffs the news that two other polls still have the competitors in a statistical dead heat down in the 8th paragraph. The headline supports the lead (though an abbreviated headline on the website mentions both).
USA Today should not privilege its own poll over equally valid polls in order to have a scoop or even to tout the fact that it conducted a poll in the first place. Give the whole news--which is still that no one knows who's gonna win this thing.
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