You are the most important person you know. As a matter of fact, you are the most important person any of us knows. Even if we haven’t met you, per se, you’re still the top dog, the head honcho, the person about whom all of us should be chiefly concerned. The things you say, the opinions you hold, and the things you do are unflaggingly fascinating, and we all need to hear, know, and see them.
All right, time for an honesty moment. Do I believe one single, solitary word of that paragraph I just wrote? Not a chance. I’m sure you’re a lovely, engaging person, full of hopes and dreams and personal triumphs, and that’s all well and good. But please, please, shut the hell up.
What’s the source of this little rant I’m indulging in right now? As I rode Phoenix’s shiny new Light Rail this morning, the young guy sitting behind me spent the entire ride blathering on at full volume into his cell phone, broadcasting his opinions on anything and everything at volume that ensured he could be clearly heard in neighboring counties. I can now count myself among those fortunate enough to know this incredibly loud stranger’s opinions on the ever-raging Xbox-PS3 debate, the infrastructure of the Phoenix metropolitan region, and the likelihood of the Bengals getting into the playoffs. I don’t care. NOBODY CARES. I was once riding the train in Chicago on which a woman plopped down, started spreading out sensitive, personal documents, and yammering into her phone about her delinquent daughter, her recent split from her other half, and her difficulty finding a job due to the fact that she was on federal probation. Really? Is this really who we’ve become? Are we the country that sits on a train full of other people holding cell phone conversations at the top of our lungs for upwards of half an hour? Attention, world: the Ugly American isn’t just a stereotype that applies to how my countrymen behave on vacation; we act like that at home, too.
The more I thought about it, though, the less surprised I was. We’ve been trained to act like this by our parents, our schoolteachers, and by the media we consume in mass quantities day in and day out. If you’re in the 18-49 demographic, you’re the most important consumer in America. If you’re older than that, we have all sorts of fantastic new satellite channels that cater to the needs of you, the very important older consumer. If you’re a little kid, you’re bombarded with ads for toys you need to have right this instant. The prescription drug companies run commercials all day imploring you to ask your doctor if Zoloft, Aricept, or Cialis is right for you, because everyone cares about YOUR health and well-being. You’d better switch to DTV right now, because we don’t want YOU to miss out on something. You are the most important person you know.
Well, no, you’re not. You’re swell and all, but don’t get carried away on a wave of your own self-importance. Just because you were told you’re special and perfect and incredibly significant doesn’t mean it’s true. I’m sorry to burst your bubble.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Wow. Really?
This article over at CBS's website details the story of Jerry Avant, Jr., who was was shot 27 times while trying to protect nursing home residents from a gunman. Mr. Avant worked as a nurse in the North Carolina home, and had previously served for 10 years in the Coast Guard.
CBS, in an amazingly disrespectful use of the English language, refers to Avant not once, not twice, but three times as a "male nurse." Really, CBS? Really?? I thought "male nurse" was one of those things we've all agreed not to say anymore, like referring to an African-American as "articulate" or referring to a politician as "honest." It's unthinkably rude to me that they need to belittle this man's sacrifice by making it clear that, despite the fact that he was a nurse, he was indeed in possession of a penis. It's perfectly obvious that he was a man, based on the fact that his first name is the masculine spelling of the name Jerry, the use of "he" and "him" throughout, and the fact that they have a FUCKING PICTURE of him posted right at the top of the page.
What a crappy way to tarnish a story about somebody who did something truly good.
CBS, in an amazingly disrespectful use of the English language, refers to Avant not once, not twice, but three times as a "male nurse." Really, CBS? Really?? I thought "male nurse" was one of those things we've all agreed not to say anymore, like referring to an African-American as "articulate" or referring to a politician as "honest." It's unthinkably rude to me that they need to belittle this man's sacrifice by making it clear that, despite the fact that he was a nurse, he was indeed in possession of a penis. It's perfectly obvious that he was a man, based on the fact that his first name is the masculine spelling of the name Jerry, the use of "he" and "him" throughout, and the fact that they have a FUCKING PICTURE of him posted right at the top of the page.
What a crappy way to tarnish a story about somebody who did something truly good.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Ruminations on Twitter
I'm not so sure about this whole Twitter thing.
Even while everyone around me seems to be succumbing to the succubus that is Twitter, I stand firm in my refusal to tweet.
Look, I'll be the first to admit that I'm certainly self-obsessed enough that I think everybody wants to know what I am doing and thinking...but I'm also self-aware enough to know that nobody gives a shit that I'm watching Oprah or feeding my betta fish. I would never have trouble finding something to tweet about. But to my way of thinking, that doesn't mean I should just go ahead and do it.
There's a certain point that's all too easy to reach these days where we become over-connected: emailing, texting, Facebook status updating, IMing, and talking on the phone all at once is WAY too much. Add in tweeting, and without a doubt, everyone knows what you're doing all the time. I don't want everyone to know what I'm doing all the time, nor do I want to know what all my friends are doing. It's information overload; and on top of that, it makes life less interesting. There's something to be said for not knowing: in a recent interview with Rolling Stone, the kooky--yet reliably insightful--Stevie Nicks said, "I don't have a computer or a cell phone, because I don't want to be that available to anybody. I'm all about mystery. Little girls think it's necessary to put all their business on MySpace and Facebook, and I think it's a shame."
She's right. It's far more interesting to hear about something if you didn't already know it because of a tweet, or a Facebook status, or a MySpace blog. And if one of your friends feels the need to tell you something in person, you can be sure it's not going to be as inane as something they might tweet about.
As for the assertion that Twitter can somehow be used as a tool for journalism, the very idea kind of makes me want to vomit. Sure, it's an easy way to quickly disseminate information to the masses--but it can just as easily be used for misinformation. People were are all abuzz about the tweets coming out of India during the attacks on Mumbai last year. Congressmen and women were on Twitter during President Obama's faux State of the Union. So what? That's not journalism. Just as many bullshit lies are perpetrated on Twitter as actual facts are reported. Reports of the Dalai Lama's Twitter account are greatly exaggerated. (As were the ones attributed to Maya Angelou, the TV show "Mad Men," etc., etc.) Jared from Subway is not dead, as was reported on Twitter. Rep. Pete Hoekstra (R-MI) accidentally revealed a secret congressional trip to Iraq by tweeting that he had landed in Baghdad. Journalists are great because they function as gatekeepers of information, trying to separate the real from the phony. Twitter has no gatekeepers, nor is it designed to. That's fine, but not for something that people hail as the future of news.
For now, I'm standing firm in my refusal to open a Twitter account. Unless something drastic happens, I don't ever see that changing.
Besides, there are too many potential slip-ups when trying to use the past tense of "tweet." Think about it...
Even while everyone around me seems to be succumbing to the succubus that is Twitter, I stand firm in my refusal to tweet.
Look, I'll be the first to admit that I'm certainly self-obsessed enough that I think everybody wants to know what I am doing and thinking...but I'm also self-aware enough to know that nobody gives a shit that I'm watching Oprah or feeding my betta fish. I would never have trouble finding something to tweet about. But to my way of thinking, that doesn't mean I should just go ahead and do it.
There's a certain point that's all too easy to reach these days where we become over-connected: emailing, texting, Facebook status updating, IMing, and talking on the phone all at once is WAY too much. Add in tweeting, and without a doubt, everyone knows what you're doing all the time. I don't want everyone to know what I'm doing all the time, nor do I want to know what all my friends are doing. It's information overload; and on top of that, it makes life less interesting. There's something to be said for not knowing: in a recent interview with Rolling Stone, the kooky--yet reliably insightful--Stevie Nicks said, "I don't have a computer or a cell phone, because I don't want to be that available to anybody. I'm all about mystery. Little girls think it's necessary to put all their business on MySpace and Facebook, and I think it's a shame."
She's right. It's far more interesting to hear about something if you didn't already know it because of a tweet, or a Facebook status, or a MySpace blog. And if one of your friends feels the need to tell you something in person, you can be sure it's not going to be as inane as something they might tweet about.
As for the assertion that Twitter can somehow be used as a tool for journalism, the very idea kind of makes me want to vomit. Sure, it's an easy way to quickly disseminate information to the masses--but it can just as easily be used for misinformation. People were are all abuzz about the tweets coming out of India during the attacks on Mumbai last year. Congressmen and women were on Twitter during President Obama's faux State of the Union. So what? That's not journalism. Just as many bullshit lies are perpetrated on Twitter as actual facts are reported. Reports of the Dalai Lama's Twitter account are greatly exaggerated. (As were the ones attributed to Maya Angelou, the TV show "Mad Men," etc., etc.) Jared from Subway is not dead, as was reported on Twitter. Rep. Pete Hoekstra (R-MI) accidentally revealed a secret congressional trip to Iraq by tweeting that he had landed in Baghdad. Journalists are great because they function as gatekeepers of information, trying to separate the real from the phony. Twitter has no gatekeepers, nor is it designed to. That's fine, but not for something that people hail as the future of news.
For now, I'm standing firm in my refusal to open a Twitter account. Unless something drastic happens, I don't ever see that changing.
Besides, there are too many potential slip-ups when trying to use the past tense of "tweet." Think about it...
Sunday, March 1, 2009
David Simon on Baltimore's Crime News
David Simon is best known these days as the mind behind The Wire...you know, the show about Baltimore that everybody hears is great but that nobody actually watched? It was the Arrested Development of gritty dramas. Anyhow, he used to be a crime reporter for the Baltimore Sun, and he's written a fantastic article for the Washington Post about how thinned-down newspaper staffs can no longer push the police for information disclosures the way they once could.
Simon's not as optimistic about the future of journalism as many are, and he's got a lot to say about the tragedy of the dying newspaper. And he's right...The Baltimore Examiner published its last edition on February 15, and the Sun's parent company is in bankruptcy. Denver's Rocky Mountain News closed its doors after publishing Friday's paper. Their final front page said, simply, "Goodbye, Colorado," and was a heartfelt letter to the citizens that the paper served for nearly 150 years. I wrote a story about it on Friday, and I'll admit that I had a little lump in my throat as I typed. Like most cities, Denver is now left with one paper, The Denver Post.
Even though I have no intention or desire to be a newspaper reporter, I hope I never see the death of the newspaper. After all, without them, how will CNN do its fact-checking?
Simon's not as optimistic about the future of journalism as many are, and he's got a lot to say about the tragedy of the dying newspaper. And he's right...The Baltimore Examiner published its last edition on February 15, and the Sun's parent company is in bankruptcy. Denver's Rocky Mountain News closed its doors after publishing Friday's paper. Their final front page said, simply, "Goodbye, Colorado," and was a heartfelt letter to the citizens that the paper served for nearly 150 years. I wrote a story about it on Friday, and I'll admit that I had a little lump in my throat as I typed. Like most cities, Denver is now left with one paper, The Denver Post.
Even though I have no intention or desire to be a newspaper reporter, I hope I never see the death of the newspaper. After all, without them, how will CNN do its fact-checking?
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