Sometime last year I stopped reading the free copies of the Toronto Star and the National Post that are given away free on campus. I usually don't arrive early enough to get a copy anyways. I also don't own a television and since I got a cellphone with an alarm, I have stopped waking up to CBC radio.

I am now completely dependant on the Internet for my news.

Google news is usually my starting point. I like it because underneath every top story are the links to other versions of the same story. Today's display story on the Iranian nuclear debacle is from Russian news service RIA Novosti conveniently labeled as 2 hours old. Not reliable enough for you? Underneath a small sample of the text is five links, one to aljazeera.com, one to the Guardian, then Reuters, Journal of Turkish Weekly, Business Standard, and the Chicago Tribune all on the same story. And if that's not diverse enough, the last link opens a page to over 1,818 related news sources from Ha'aretz to Azerbaijan's "Baku Today."

Often the stories displayed will be from otherwise ignored sites. When South Africa legalised Gay marriage I found myself reading about it on 365Gay.com, a gay news site. This morning I was reading about healthcare on the arch-conservative National Review site but no worries, occasionally The Socialist Worker gets to be top dog also. You can also customise the site to whatever regional news you're interested in but I don't bother. If I really want to read about Toronto I'll just go to theStar.com, speaking of which, today Star writer Antonia Zerbisias wrote a column questioning Canadian coverage of our involvement in Haiti. Finally. Too bad it's buried in the hardcopy version.

Posted by at 01:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

With my massive RRJ feature on the verge of completion, I've been getting increasingly excited about having time to write articles for other publications. The idea of freelance writing really appeals to me as a career--I love coming up with story ideas, I love writing them, I even love writing query letters. The closer graduation gets, the more I've been thinking seriously about freelance writing and maybe someday making a living off of it, but when I look at the Professional Writers Association of Canada's FAQS page, I get discouraged. Apparently rates for freelance writers haven't increased significantly since the '70s, freelance writers work without benefits, and $1/word doesn't seem like enough to live off of, considering how much work goes into a freelance pieces--freelance pieces require more time than a staff writer's assignment when you factor in unpaid query research and writing. Freelancers work hard and, working on their own terms, they're often able to produce the most creative and exciting articles in journalism--shouldn't they be rewarded rather than discouraged?

Posted by at 12:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Writing is hard. It sucks the juice out of your brain. It diminishes your capacity to write anything coherent, whether it's a 5,000-worder or a blog post. Thank God the great juicer is temporary.

Posted by at 08:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I just wanted to take this opportunity to post some amazing photojournalism.

By Alan Poizner, poizner.com

By Cathy Greenblat, womeninphotography.org

By Julia Cumes, juliacumesphoto.com

Of course, there are many more, but I don't want to crowd the blog page. :) Don't you wish they offered photojournalism courses in our program?

Posted by at 01:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Deadlines have a way of sneaking up on everybody, but the notion of "working to deadline" seems a uniquely journalism-related ailment. Finishing the crossword puzzle on your lunch break doesn't quite cut it. Every journalist fears deadline for the same reason, I suspect: rewrite, rewrite, rewrite is time consuming and, therefore, conflicts with deadlines. By beginning any article we admit that at some point we must give up on attaining perfection and submit to the deadline looming just ahead in the shadows. And what if there's several articles requiring completion? It isn't high school math where an incomplete test can still receive a passing grade. Increased efficiency, therefore, is the only viable solution. Watching the reports of Mozart's birthday on the news last night I was reminded that he is supposed to be good brain food and just might help alleviate some deadline-related stress. And then I was struck by a thought. Although much is said and written about the quality of his compositions, much is also made of the fact that he died at the age of 35. So, I wondered, if it's argued that Mozart's music can help fine tune the efficiency of our brains, how efficient was his?

If we sleep eight hours a day that's a third of our time. By rounding the figure down to three out of every nine years, and Mozart's age up to 36 (he was three months shy when he died), that's 12 years of his life spent in sleep. But let's presume he was a little neurotic and drop the estimate to five hours per day, or only eight years. With his somewhat raucous reputation, his tutoring, a grueling travel schedule and the sundries of day-to-day living, adding two hours per day to the five wasted in sleep would not be unreasonable. We'll modestly estimate 10 years lost, then, leaving him 25, or 1300 weeks, in which to compose. Since it is Mozart, we'll make no deductions for the formative years. His lifetime output totaled approximately 630 pieces, surpassed only by Joseph Haydn who lived to be 77. That means Mozart averaged two compositions a week, every week, for 25 years. Producing two articles a week for 25 years might not drive you bonkers, but if it didn't it's a good bet the resulting quality wouldn't convince many people to read your work 250 years after the fact. As for rewrites, here is one account of his habits:

"He wrote music like letters," said Constanze, "and never tried a movement until it was finished." ... By common consent the greatest of Mozart's symphonies are the three he poured out in a torrent of inspiration in the summer of 1788 -- at a time of depressing poverty and mounting debts. The first is dated June 26, the second July 25, the third August 10 -- three births in three months. So far as we know, none of them was ever played in his lifetime; he never heard them; they remained in that mysterious realm in which black spots on a sheet were for the composer "ditties of no sound" -- notes and harmonies heard only by the mind.

I wonder what would have happened if he knew he was composing to deadline?

Posted by at 04:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

In our forth year of the journalism program, we are required to take a class in media ethics. The subject matter is interesting, but I wonder if there is a need to dedicate an entire semester to learning about something most of us already know about. Don’t lie to your sources, don't make anything up, never make promises (eg. of anonymity) unless you can keep them. I don't think sitting in a class will make us any more, or less, ethical than we are. Yes, as reporters we carry a lot of responsibility, but do we need to place ourselves above the average person and say that we need to be more ethical than them? A chapter of Nick Russell's Morals and the Media gives an example of a newspaper photographer who is on deadline to bring back pictures from the premier's resignation news conference and encounters an accident. Should she help the victim, or rush to meet her deadline? Well that's a no-brainer. What person in their right mind would say "oh well, I can't miss my deadline, so I guess I'll leave the victim to fend for herself." Do I really need to pay someone $400 in tuition fees to solve that moral dilemma?

Posted by at 11:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Trent Frayne, left, and Milt Dunnell, right, in their prime.

No links, no scathing media commentary here. Today, more of a brief ode to some of the folk I've had the privilege of interviewing over the past five months. There'll be more said come April about the subject of conversation, when the RRJ launches at a swanky party near you, but for now, this post will put my mind at ease.

The old sports fraternity is dying. Or dead. Trent Frayne, 87, jokes as much. Milt Dunnell, 100 (to reiterate, 100!), hadn't even the power to speak to me at length over the phone. And, I was even told by someone, not three weeks ago, to speak to Jim Coleman. Jim Coleman died in 2001. Arthritis, cancer, brittle bones -- the sportswriting heroes of our recent past are all near gone.

But good god are their minds still sharp. And god bless our Cam Coles and Eric Duhatscheks (the best hockey writer in the country), but I would take the Scott Youngs and Dick Beddoes of yore over today's crowd any day if time and space would allow it.

A gem from Trent Frayne, never mind the context, or the person in question. Just feel the prose, the wit, the breezyness of it all.

For purposes of the piece, the truth properly is I could lick him any day of the week. I was nuts about golf. Both of us were hackers, mostly we played golf so that we could pick apple trees.

And as for Milt, he typed me a letter instead. And it was the most eloquent letter I've ever received. It's too specific to be putting up on here, but suffice it to say, I've got a little piece of history in my possession. And when the foregone day comes when they're all silenced, I can be content knowing that I've had the opportunity to converse with the greats.

Posted by at 01:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Okay, what constitutes "serious" magazine journalism, anyway? The boys over at Modern Drunkard Magazine seem to know, and don't really seem to care. They admit there's an element of satire in everything they write, but insist that it's bona fide journalism, standing by every single word they write with an eightball and chaser.

The result? A mag for lushes everywhere, that features everything from drinking service pieces, to booze and booze peripheral reviews, to feature-length articles on famous drunkards and famous women drunkards, to philosophical think pieces on the art of drinking ("Are drunks hiding from reality, or changing it?"). All of these are furnished with visuals taken from American oldskool design: pictures and graphics from the twenties, thirties, forties and fifties featuring Ward Cleaver-types with a scotch or Dorothy Parker tippling a flask - reminiscent of a bygone era where joyless sobriety didn't rule so much of the nation.

It even features some serious investigative journalism. Happy lushes turn into angry drunks when the subject of MADD (Mother's Against Drunk Driving) comes up. In one article, it claims the well-meaning organization has become an Orwellian nightmare, corrupted by profits and politics and taken over by hardcore anti-freedom ideologues that are infringing on civil liberties. Unsurprisingly, its politically incorrect agenda has garnered its share of hate mail, which it pursues with a sort of vicious joy only a mean drunk could have. But it does seem like the boys over at Modern Drunkard are careful not to cross the line - they never advocate anything irresponsible like drinking and driving, or offer service pieces that could help you break the law (e.g.: how to beat a breathalyzer... they do try to debunk it, flawed device that it is, evidently).

They just like to drink. A lot. And they're sharing that love with this irreverent, unapologetically libertarian publication. 'Ave 'er up, boys, this Bud's for you.

Posted by at 04:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

On Saturday mornings, I always reach for the Globe and Mail's Style section first. The articles go very nicely with that first cup of coffee and are the perfect reading material when I'm still half asleep. The columns are light, the fashion spreads are fun and the recipes are appealing. It makes for a pleasant start to the weekend...until I get to the restaurant review.
Joanna Kates pans another restaurant...what a surprise. Yes, there are bad restaurants in Toronto. I've eaten at many. But it seems as though every terrible restaurant in the city ends up in Kates' column. Maybe her mandate is to let readers know where NOT to eat, but you'd think that by chance, she would stumble upon some place worth visiting. If Toronto's restaurants are so bad, why keep writing about them? We get the point. Sure, she occasionally gives a positive review but they're few and far between. And while a critic who always gives rave reviews is suspect, I'm starting to wonder about the critic who always gives two thumbs down.

Posted by at 06:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Snake, hamster inseparable zoo pals

So downtown shootings and politicians who look half-alive aren't the only things that can make headlines. I definitely understand the need for lighter items in the news--after all, there's only so much death and destruction a reader can digest in one setting.

But.

News, I've been told, is whatever interests people. I'm sure the story about a rat and snake would warrant interest with some, though it likely wouldn't go much deeper than comments along the lines of "Well, that was...interesting."

Not that I think this is a growing problem by any means, but even though this story is far from front page news, the fact remains that someone decided this story should run, and that this story was, to some degree, news.

While I think a "story" and "news" can be one in the same I also think a more defined line should be drawn when it comes to defining "news."

Posted by at 05:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Okay, I have no illusions that newspapers or magazines are politically neutral institutions - just look at the way the Star's Liberal-friendly editorials are getting more and more desperate by the minute. And certainly I wouldn't look to NOW Magazine to be the standard-bearer for objectivity - they've always bled NDP orange and always will.

But there's something especially off-putting about their cover this week, which, besides featuring a certain political party's colour scheme, also has a photo subject wearing an NDP button. The subject, artist and playwright Maggie Macdonald, has competed as an NDP candidate in past elections and the article inside does get into politics, but it's essentially an artist profile. She's entitled to vote for whomever she wants and I don't even disagree with the presumed placement of her X come Monday, but I think NOW has shot its already dubious credibility by basically putting the equivalent of a campaign sign on its front cover.

Posted by at 09:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

It all started two summers ago after I returned home from my Birthright Israel trip. I received an email from my trip organizer informing me that as a Birthright alumnus I would be able to receive three resources of my choosing, free of charge. The program offered everything from books to periodicals to magazines, and I opted for a combination of two books and a weekly newspaper, the International Jerusalem Post.

Because it was a gift, my subscription was only supposed to last for three months, but a year later I was still finding issues in my mailbox, and not just one a week. For some reason I slowly began receiving two, sometimes even three, issues a week, and they piled up on my kitchen table just waiting to be read. By spring the Post had started sending me subscription renewal cards, which I threw away because I had no intention of paying for a publication I didn't have time to read. Besides, I was already receiving them in mass quantities for free. But the Post kept sending those pesky cards, and then letters, and I kept ignoring them until I received a phone call for the Post's New York office last summer. I didn't even let the man on the phone launch into his pitch. I told him right away that yes, I had received the renewal information, but I did not want to renew the subscription until I was out of school and had more time on my hands to actually read the damn thing. (Of course I didn't say "damn thing" on the phone.) I also asked him to stop sending me free issues because, quite frankly, I felt both guilty and annoyed. Josh (I think that was his name) thanked me for my time and we hung up.

You'd think that'd be the end of it, but of course I continued to receive the Post, not every week, but every once in a while it would pop up in my mailbox as if to say "Hi there. Don't forget about me!" (Like I could.) I responded by throwing them away immediately, just out of irritation, and that became my routine until two weeks ago, when I received another phone call from the Post.

This time is was a woman calling all the way from Jerusalem to inquire as to why I hadn't renewed my subscription. I wanted to scream my head off, but instead I told her patiently what I had told Josh: that I am waiting until graduation, and once I am out of school I will reconsider subscribing. "And when do you expect to graduate?" she asked. "Excuse me?" I answered. "Like, May?" she offered. "Um, yeah. Sure. May." "Ok great!" she said cheerfully. "Fantastic," I responded sarcastically. "Oh, but one last thing: can you stop sending me issues for now? I get one every once in a while and I feel terrible about it because I'm not paying."

So far I haven't received any more issues of the Post. I'll probably hear from them again in May, and while I know it's probably not fair, I might just tell them "No" once and for all. Not because it's a bad publication (it's actually quite good), but simply because I'm just beyond annoyed.

Posted by at 10:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I came across this article a couple weeks ago. Appalling as the actual article content is, I was more greatly disturbed by this phrase (emphasis mine):

... although the Philippines is on the U.S. government's radar screen as a potential spawning ground for Muslim-related terrorism, Goodman said his friend is a devout Catholic and not given to supporting such causes.

I was watching the news a couple years ago, and I wish I'd taken better note of the station and anchor that was reading the report. There was a story on a car bombing in the U.S. somewhere, and the report ended with the line "Police say the incident was not related to terrorism."

Let's take a look at the word "terrorism," shall we?

ter-ror-ism

The unlawful use or threatened use of force or violence by a person or an organized group against people or property with the intention of intimidating or coercing societies or governments, often for ideological or political reasons.

Just from the root word "terror," I would take "terrorism" to imply an action with the purpose of inciting fear. If a car is blown up in a residential area without any clear intention of murdering someone, is that not "terrorism?" How about an organization dedicated to white Christian supremecy? Or an extremist group which threatens and kills abortion doctors and advocates because abortion is against God's will? Aren't they terrorists too? In fact, what is required for the media to label a group as terrorist once they proclaim their "work" as being Christianity's will?

Oh, of course. They can't be white.

Language is a powerful tool. In my first year at Ryerson, I studied Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness, which describes the European colonization of Africa in the late 1890s. One theme the novel discussed was the effect of language on society. For instance, the labels attributed to the peoples of Africa affected the way they were allowed to be treated. You can enslave a native. You can shoot a savage. You can abuse slaves and order servants. But doing any of this to "people" would be inhumane.

The media is changing language to suit their own ideals in the same manner. Christian terrorists are rebels. White supremecists are revolutionaries. But if you're "different" from the decision makers...

... well, you get to be a terrorist.

I came to Canada from the Caribbean after living through a terrorist revolt and attempted governmental coup, myself. Terrorists, to me, are a very real thing. The word describes people who make it their purpose to enforce fear in a population. I know that fear. And every time I hear or read a story that bastardizes the word for someone else's agenda, I cringe, because it belittles a culture and invalidates a fear that millions are confronted with and carry with them forever.

Posted by at 04:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Although I wouldn't say I have a favourite tv news program, I tend to gravitate towards Global News. I've always been critical of people who are star-struck over journalists, but I have to admit, I think I'd get a little giddy if I ever met Michael Kuss, Global's meteorologist.

But that's not the topic of my blog. I strayed from my usual 6:00p.m. news program tonight, and watched CityNews on City Tv. I find their camera techniques very distracting. There are far too many shots of the reporters nodding understandingly while listening to their interview subjects. It's really contrived. I'm also not a big fan of Audra Brown's double camera stunt, where she holds two cameras and records herself taping something else. I don't understand the point. Does anyone have any insight?

Posted by at 10:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

He's an eight-year-old fire-haired, mischevious boy with his own excruciatingly annoying show on Treehouse TV. This child has been irritating me for many moons (I live with a two-year-old).

So you can imagine my shock to learn that CTV Newsnet has hired him as a political "boy reporter" for Countdown with Mike Duffy. I'm not exactly sure what to think of this. I was somewhat disturbed to watch him sipping milkshakes with Paul Martin over a game of "Operation" during one of his recent segments. How cute!

The Tyee's blog called it a "creepy stunt." I have to agree that it's creepy but it was also a smart move on CTV's part. Cook can flash his freckled smile and get away with asking some really awkward questions. During a one-on-one interview with Harper (access few journalists are afforded) Cook asked, "If you had to vote for one of your opponents which one would you vote for?" Harper's answer: "Oh, I think I'd jump off a tall building before I did that" before stammering, "uh...that's a really tough question." Us "jaded" journalists should fear for our jobs.

Posted by at 03:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The Sunday Star celebrated its one-year anniversary as a "maga-paper" today, running a cover story that examines whether federal Conservative leader Stephen Harper has truly shed the "Scary Stephen" image that cost him the last election. Also advertised on the cover was a piece by philosopher Mark Kingwell, a philosophical meandering on the number one that ran in Ideas a section specifically created for the Sunday version of the paper that runs essays.

While there are things in the maga-paper version of the Sunday Star I enjoy, including the more analytical news coverage, most of the Ideas essays and John Sakamoto's Off the Rack, a flip through some of the week's magazine offerings, I generally find the paper shallow and too reliant on short bits. Today's Buzz (A&E) section cover trumpeted a worthless story on The Sopranos, my favourite show, by Rob Salem, who seemed to do everything in his power to avoid the word "said."

I miss the World section, which disappeared when the Sunday Star made the switch to maga-paper format. I miss Haroon, Richard and Linda on the op-ed page. I really miss Tom Harpur, although he is expected to return to the religion section, which has been moved to the Saturday paper, at some point.

I'm in a rating mood. Using the four-star system (another annoying Star adoption), I'll grant the maga-paper experiment a two and a half.

Posted by at 06:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

As I usually do every Saturday morning, I was reading the Star Wheels section, and was overjoyed at the prospect that General Motors might bring back the Chevy Camaro!

The Camaro had been discontinued by GM in 2002 due to poor sales, but with the success of the new "retro" Ford Mustang plus the traditional rivalry that has always existed between the Mustang and Camaro, I suppose the suits at GM decided they could wait no longer. They presented a very attractive show car at the North American International Auto Show recently-a car that harkens back to the classic Camaros of the 1960's. If they do decide to put it into production, it will debut in 2008/2009.

I've always been a huge fan of the Camaro, and just have some not so subtle words of encouragement for those fine folks at GM: If you make it, I promise you I'll buy it! Now if only they'd bring back the Camaro's F-car stablemate, the Pontiac Firebird too........

Posted by at 05:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Shawna Richer sounds like she's in love. The Globe and Mail columnist has been following Sydney Crosby, the NHL's rookie phenom, since the start of the season and her dispatches from America's steel town suggest she's gotten too attached to her subject. Richer consistently fawns over Crosby for his performance on and off the ice and defends him against the "evil" factions in the hockey world -- led by Don Cherry -- who criticize the 18-year-old for on-the-ice diving and yapping antics unbefit the next Gretzky.
Crosby has been tapped as the saviour of the Penguins organization and their PR machine is doing everything in its power to keep him golden. Having Richer on their side only helps that plan. It's like she's being held captive by the hockey team and instead of offering her employer and its readers both sides of the story, she's accepted her captors position. It's time for Richer's editors to send in the hostage negotiators.

Posted by at 08:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Over the holiday break my dad asked me, as he always does when it comes to his concerns with the media, if I had seen the footage on the evening news about Phyllis Gretzky's funeral and what I thought about it. I told him the truth; I thought it was invasive to film the family at the funeral. Having been to several funerals myself, some for people I dearly loved, maybe I'm biased. I feel like that's such a personal time for the people who knew the beloved deceased that I had to change the channel because I felt like I was invading their privacy.

But funeral coverage is nothing new. Actually, the Toronto Sun had this article a while back about just this topic. So I'm talking about old news technically, but why? Death seems to be in the news regularly enough that it can never really be old news. Obviously.

Aside from my duh moment above, I agree with the Sun's Kevin Hann, who in the article says, "If a person's death has generated a great volume of news coverage -- for instance, a murder victim, then we see this as a way for public closure." Closure is important, but is seeing the faces of the grieving family going through the motions of putting their loved one to rest necessary? I think not. Am I alone in feeling pain for these people who are likely trying to keep their emotions inside because it will end up in the news? I'm sure someone could argue that we really shouldn't care what other people think of us, but I would just as well not have my splotchy-red and tear-streaked face on TV, and I don't even register on the scale of celebrity.

Well allow me to contradict myself. What about funerals that are publicly broadcast on TV? Pope John Paul II's comes to mind, as does that of Princess Diana. I watched parts of both and I remember feeling awful for Diana's sons who had to walk behind their mother's casket and show no emotion. For the pope I didn't feel odd at all. Why? I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps because he was such a for-the-people man and that his close family were people who believed he's in a better place. I could get into the religious side of things with that, but since he was the head of a religion I think you get the point.

You might think I would put private and public funerals in different categories, but I don't. If the purpose of the funeral coverage is for public closure it shouldn't be necessary to invade the privacy of those there grieving. I think that makes a spectacle of the funeral, and where's the closure in that?

Posted by at 12:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

The Denver Post ran an article in their Sunday edition about the crisis in the Darfur region of Sudan. Yes this crisis is still going on and although it should be surprising that more North American media outlets aren't giving it much coverage, it's not. A quick online news search shows that majority of Darfur updates had been in the UK, Australia, and countries in Africa. I guess it boils down to location. We're so far away over here that most people don't give a moments thought.

The Denver article begins with a quote by Pope Benedict XVI. "The horror of events unfolding in Darfur points to the need for stronger international resolve to ensure security and basic human rights" there. And security is what's needed. In an interview last spring with International Aid Worker Jette Isaksen, she claimed that heightened security and opportunities for development are two priorities that must to be met in the fight to resolve the crisis.

Isaksen had been on two missions in relation to Darfur at the time of the interview and says that villagers will not go back to their homes if security isn't promised.

The Sudanese government doesn't like the camps, and has claimed that people aren't making an effort to go back to their homes because life in the camps is easy. But according to Isaksen "If life inside of a refugee camp can be better than the life outside, then there is something seriously wrong in that country. Life in a camp is not a life, it's a survival."

Isaksen counts some of the most essential steps towards peace in Darfur as working towars better living conditions, education for children, and help from the Sudanese government. She declares that necessities such as good shelter, decent water, cattle, education, and opportunity for growth must be established before peace can become a fathomable outcome.

Another key, and perhaps the most important, to overcoming the crisis in Darfur, is teaching people how to help themselves. Isaksen asserts that having eternal help in Darfur is comparable to having an entire continent on welfare. She calls it 'unsustainable'. She claims that people need to learn how to help themselves, and that can be done in part with financial help from the government to help improve the living conditions.

"The government may be thinking "they've been doing this for generations, why can't they continue doing it?'" says Isaksen. But "Crisis needs a quick response, you can't sit still and think about it."

Media awareness of the crisis is essential. "If you don't know about the problems, how can you deal with them?" she says.

Here's to hoping that the Canadian media will give some more time to this ongoing crisis. No it's not new. No it's probably not something Canadians think about often, if at all. But it is a genocide, and in my opinion the media should be covering it and the general public should know more about it.

Posted by at 12:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Reading John Vaillant's Golden Spruce got me thinking about the garden of eden, pretty weird for a little heathen like me. But the act of Grant Hadwin reaffirmed that if God granted a do-over in Eden, we would surely eat the fruit.

Hadwin destroyed what was the tree of life to the Haida people in the pursuit of knowledge. It was a kind of Babylonian reckoning for tree worshippers. But the pain of knowledge soon came for Hadwin when he realized the historical significance the golden tree had for the Haida.

The irony is that the only way Hadwin knew how to stop destruction was to destroy. Though demonized for his actions, Hadwin did what most humans do: destroy in order to protect. We do it all the time. We go to war to protect concepts like freedom and democracy, concepts like trees.

Hadwin's rationale for destroying the spruce reminded me of reverends and priest that I have seen on TV, who stand before burnt down churches and in spite of their loss say: "The church is not the congregation; the congregation is the church." The knowledge is not in the tree. It's all around us: the forest we cannot see.

I wonder what Hadwin thought, felt, after hacking away at that awesome tree?

Perhaps suddenly the world was all before him.

Where to choose his place of rest?

No one to hold his hand.

Posted by at 09:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

They're dead. We fucked up. We try to explain why.

Stopping the presses was the right thing to do, as not evidenced by the country's two largest papers. As is the general consensus that, while we'll lay out in chronological order why this monumental snafu happened, the paper should still take the blame for the wholehearted dive into the euphoria of a "Miracle!" Some papers even got to look smart, like the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette did with its forward-thinking approach to marrying its web and print formats.

The deeper story here for the insular world of media criticism is that the traditional, physical newspaper just can't cut it anymore. The Sago mine disaster only underlines the growing limitations of the printed form in this 24-hour news world we now live in. It's absurd to think that, at the same time a click of a mouse transmits corrected information to millions of people, night editors in, well, some newsrooms still need to stop the presses. Hold on! We need to fill in the couple hundred thousand who pick us up on the street.

Is that the death of the newspaper I hear? Well, not quite. Sure, that's the sound of newspaper circulation plummeting, and quick. But the newspaper will never go away. The dead tree industry -- picking up a thoughtful, structured approach to the past day's news -- is much too ingrained in human culture to do away with. If that weren't the case, newspapers should have went up in smoke the moment Google News launched, or the blogosphere exploded, or when any number of Web-based innovations achieved mass appeal.

All this to say, I do love you, newspaper. Especially you, Globe and Mail, because you're pretty like your name. Most of us would probably be unemployed without the newspaper, or at least spend a lot more time outside.

So let's ride out this rough patch in the relationship between my fingers and your inky pages. Because one day you'll look like this, and everything will be right again:

iRex Technologies, a Philips subsidiary, has just announced "the first complete solution for portable electronic reading and writing." Of course, the press release mentions the quality of the screen: "The 8.1" display with 16 grey levels, ensures excellent legibility both indoors and outdoors while still offering a thin, lightweight device for easy portability." But more importantly, "The benefits are not just in user satisfaction. The always up-to-date information and low cost structure should make it easier to reach and even define new markets." The thingie is of course wirelessly connected to the Internet.

No, the PC tablet is not holding a newspaper in your hands. But with tablets, the year's first (and probably not biggest) media mishap wouldn't have happened. Got the story wrong? Click, and the correction gets zapped over to tablets everywhere. Imagine a newspaper that's constantly updated throughout the day (which, as crazy as it sounds, does not equate to a news website). It retains the intangiblity of the newspaper layout with the power of the Internet. I'd read it, said the blogger/media junkie.

Would the MSM approve? Probably not. But leave the King Kong-sized questions of costs, job cuts and journalistic quality to someone else and another post. I'm just dreaming here, but it's looking pretty bright.

(As a side note, this entry has now been corrected five times. No, six.)

Posted by at 04:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

My friend Max (not his real name) is a journalist in Zimbabwe. He's short and thin with a baffling sense of humour. Besides being a journalist he considers himself a poet and a writer of fiction. His music taste goes from from reggae to country & western. The day we met he showed me his official government of Zimbabwe press card which, according to him, is the certification one needs to be allowed to write for a publication in that country.

Zimbabwe is controlled by a brutal "president for life," Mugabe, who is known for his harsh repression of the press. When talking about his stints in jail, Max laughs. Once when when some colleagues of his had been arbitrarily arrested he had gone down to the police station to try and find out the cause. He was promptly beaten and thrown in jail with the rest of them, but because he was expecting this treatment he had forewarned his lawyer friends who were able to get him out within days.

He works for a magazine affiliated with a major Christian denomination. The backing of this church means he has much more leeway than if he worked for a secular paper. Even so, his writing has to be incredibly careful and uncontroversial. His technique is to carefully slip in little bits of dissenting information that he hopes the censors will either miss or not deem dangerous enough for retribution. There is a grey area around what you cannot say in Zimbabwe and Max strongly believes it his ethical duty to continually push it.

In his mid thirties, Max is recently married and the father of a young girl. Sometimes Max pushes too far in his reporting and gets threatened. It usually comes as a late night phonecall or a visit to his editor. The calls are usually not overly hostile but it doesn't matter, the message is there, "we're watching you."

Max knows that these calls are often precursors to violence, imprisonment and even death. His magazine's policy is to put him and his family into hiding for a brief period afterwards. Usually just long enough for the issue to blow over or for whatever act of violence to come and go. So far he hasn't gotten into anything that he couldn't get out of but he's come close.

Ironically, his most terrifying moment was at the hands of Zimbabwe's democratic opposition. Along with his government press card and his mandatory ruling party indentification Max usually carries, hidden in his clothes, a card indentifying himself as a member of the banned opposition party. This can be helpful in getting him out of tight spots.

Once when covering an opposition rally he was set upon by activists and searched. When his attackers found both his ruling party ID and theirs he was accused of being a government spy, beaten and, according to him, was prepared to die. Luckily he knew a high ranking member of the opposition party who recognized him before he could be hurt seriously.

I met Max at a school in Holland where he was secretly taking courses to improve his writing. His hope was to freelance for European publications so that his family could have some financial security. Writing under a pseudonym, he was sending query letters to any publication that had even cursory coverage of Zimbabwe. Despite the danger, Max was determined to go back home. Living in exile just wasn't a possibility, not because of the danger involved in moving his family out but because he felt his life's mission was in Zimbabwe and to leave would be giving up, something he refused to do.

Posted by at 03:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)