double fault

"The most important part is keeping our eyes on the master metaphor of the Fault Line. The society is split along five faults, and we try in vain to paper them over, fill them in or pretend they aren't there. ... (These) underlying forces, like those in the center of the earth, will thwart us until we come to see out differences as deep, but completely natural things, as natural as geologic fault lines. We don't have to resolve our differences. We can agree to disagree." ~Robert C. Maynard

That quote was on a handout from my newspaper editing class. We were talking about editing for taste and style when the concept of these five faults - race/ethnicity, gender, generation, class, geography - came up. The idea is that society is shaped based on these underlying characteristics. From my interpretation of Maynard's quote, journalists need to recognize these divisions in order to write tastefully and un-offensively.

There's nothing wrong with that, as far as I'm concerned. But I think it can be over-applied. Trying so hard not to offend actually perpetuates the prejudices those fault lines address. No, someone's race, gender or age isn't always relevant to any story, but I think more often than not, it is. Those fault lines are the basic characteristics for self-definition. Leaving that kind of information out implies that all people are the same, and, well, they aren't.

That said, I understand the effort of journalists, and maybe bloggers, too, to be unobtrusive, tasteful, ultimately politically correct. In the short term, it saves everyone from a huge headache. But maybe in "agreeing to disagree," we should start celebrating those differences that Maynard says we don't have to resolve. There's value in respecting one's identity, too, and I'm pretty sure there are ways to do that tastefully.

So what's better, editing out potentially offensive fault-line characteristics, or including self-identifying fault-line characteristics? I honestly don't know. Any suggestions?

stick a pitchfork in mom-and-pop, they may be done

The folks at Pitchfork posted a news story at 7:35 this morning about a Best Buy promotion that priced albums from "artists outside the mainstream" at $7.99 a pop. Apparently, indie labels can enter into a co-op deal with big box stores, allowing them to slash prices in exchange for prominent placement of CDs in the store. The deal has since ended, but the Pitchfork posting sparked all sorts of opinions in the blogging community.

Will ridiculously low prices force mom-and-pop stores out of business? Are lovers of such music far enough outside of the mainstream to spend $6 or $7 more at indie stores? Check some of these blogs for a few divergent opinions:

Saki Store - this is official boo-Best Buy blog of Carrot Top Distribution, and one of the first blogs to speak out

Perfect Porridge - As a friend of an indie store owner, this Minnesotan blogger promises to shuck out the extra cash for indie survival.

San Diego Serenade - Here, Conor suggests the true monster is the ever-changing music retail industry, which all stores are struggling to keep up with. Maybe mom-and-poppers should come up with their own unique promotions, he says.

IndieHQ - Here's a decent assessment of the issue, and a good explanation of co-ops. They throw in an opinionated appeal at the end, FYI.

And, check these two bloggers out: CultureBully and chromewaves.net. They beat others to the punch, offering their two cents before the Pitchfork article.


...and here's a link to a mom-and-pop in Columbia. Cheers.

today for you

My roommate and I bought the movie Rent last night. We didn't really have the money for it, much less the time to watch it considering we're both amidst our first round of tests. But, keeping in theme with the film, we figured there's "no day but today" and made a movie night.

"No day but today." That's the tagline for promotions of the musical and movie (see the poster on the right,) and a prominent phrase spoken throughout the script. It's undoubtedly the over-arching theme and, I would argue, the reason the story has become so popular in mainstream culture. Quite literally, the plot screams "Carpe diem!" which is an easy message for the masses to digest and the status quo to embrace.

As I watched the movie for the second time (I've seen the stage version once as well,) I realized that there's more to that live-for-the-moment, seize-the-day theme. I think most Rent-lovers just cling to the cliche and miss the deeper meanings.

To me, it's no day but today...

... to fight AIDS. Many of the characters have the virus and considering the setting (1989-1990 in New York City), it should be obvious that the play is making a statement. Since the AIDS epidemic is downplayed and seen as less of a threat over all, though, I think this message is lost. The death of the most beloved character, Angel, is tragic because of the disease she dies from. The virus kills Angel regardless of her selflessness and loving free spirit - that's the battle, the tragedy of AIDS. As the cast shouts in the second act finale, La Vie Boheme: "Actual reality - Act up - Fight AIDS!"

... to start accepting. One of my favorite duets is the exchange between Joanne and Maureen, Take Me or Leave Me. It's a great break-up song, full of that uncharacterizable emotion that comes when your hurt and angry with the one you love. It really applies to the musical as a whole, though, too. The high-society Broadway audiences saw homeless tent cities, gay and lesbian kisses, the horror of heroin and probably fell in love with Angel, a drag queen. Whether your taking your lover with all her flaws or opening your mind to alternative lifestyles and the realities of poverty and addiction, now's the time for acceptance.

... to uphold what you believe. This might be my favorite, because this idea has been on my mind a lot as of late (you can probably expect a whole post on this soon.) Take starving artists Roger and Mark: they have the option to have a year's worth of rent forgiven if they get Maureen to stop her protest. From the starving perspective, this sounds like a pretty good deal, but they still reject it. They believe in Maureen's position, that its wrong to wipe out the homeless for business. That's something about faith, about standing up for yourself. Rationally crazy, maybe, but to believe in something that much... what a romantic, admirable quality.


Next time you see the movie or musical, really listen. The characters thrive on living outside the mainstream, rejecting the status quo and cliches. In order to benefit from the tale, the audience has to, too.

a tango.

Today's assignment was to consider the relationship between blogging and journalism. As both a budding blogger and aspiring journalist, I'm a little torn. I like blogging, I like journalism. I don't want either to disappear, nor do I want one to be revered over the other.

Of the articles assigned, Staci D. Kramer's "Journos and Bloggers: Can Both Survive?" resonated most with me. Instead of forcing debates of which is better or whether blogging should replace journalism, Kramer refuses to see the two as separate entities. Here she puts it best:

The constant drum beat of the notion that blogging and journalism are mutually exclusive -- that one can or will replace the other, that one is better than the other, that they don't require each other to exist -- damages all involved.

Recognizing that the two mediums are unique yet interdependent certainly appeases my thoughts, but is there truth in it? I'm pretty sure there is, and so is Kramer. Later on in her article, she lists things that bloggers and journalists can learn from each other:

What journalists can learn from bloggers:
-- you can blur the line between the personal and professional without corrupting the process;
-- you can learn to improvise in real time;
-- how to have a conversation with their readers;
-- to be humble - you don't know everything.

Bloggers can learn from journalists:
-- the value of leg work;
-- the nature of accountability;
-- that editing is a good thing;
-- to be humble - you don't know everything.

These are all valuable points on both ends, especially for those wearing press hats. That first point, that you can blend the personal and professional, is especially important, and from my assessment, effective.

Take the Missourian's account of the events that culminated with Quin Snyder's resignation. Our classmate and a lead reporter said the story was the best of any paper that Sunday, and I tend to agree. He and his co-writer could have easily recounted the events in a traditional, inverted pyramid news-story format. Instead, Columbians got a easy to read narrative full of clear voice and conversational dialogue. Using blog-entry characteristics, the Quin reporters turned the article into a true story.

And the first on the list for blogger lessons holds some weight, too. Look at Jim Robertson's blog at the Columbia Tribune. He posted two entries on Jan. 30, the second merely to report information he missed in his first attempt at research. A little more leg work the first time around could have helped his point.

There's nothing wrong with being interdependent. In this day and age, its hard for even the worst of enemies to be exclusive. There is, however, a problem with figuring that two such entities can ever replace one another. Look at England and France - interdependent nations that no one would ever suggest one take the place of the other.

Blogging and journalism can learn from each other and probably have to if each wants to survive. And as the budding blogger and aspiring journalist, I'd kind of like it if they both did.

Holy roller novocaine

I just caught the movie Garden State for the first time. My friends always told me that I'd love it, and they were right: the film is very "me."

The aspect of it that's resonating loudest right now is what Largeman (Zach Braff) says about feeling numb. It reminded me of a book I read over winter break, The Mermaid Chair by Sue Monk Kidd. In it, the main character, Jesse, is also a victim of perpetual numbness. When she finally finds feeling, she describes it like this:

"I inhabited those moments in a way that was usually lost to me. They came through and amplifier that made the movement of our bodies and the pulsing world around us more vivid and radiant, more real. I could feel how perishable all my moments really were, how all my life they had come to me begging to be lived, to be cherished even, and the impassive way I'd treated them." ~Sue Monk Kidd, The Mermaid Chair

I think we all could use a good dose of "feeling" every now and then. Some of us (including me) more than others, probably. It'll be joyful, painful and, like Kidd says, perishable. But at least we get to experience real, soulful emotion. At least we know there's a reason we're alive.

you're looking skinny like a model...

Seven reasons why I would drop everything to be with Conor Oberst of Bright Eyes:

1. " You will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will.
You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will."
~You will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will.

2. "Oh you are the roots that sleep beneath my feet that hold the earth in place."
~Oh You are the Roots That Sleep Beneath My Feet That Hold the Earth in Place

3. "My compass spins, the wilderness remains."
~Make War

4. "And so I raise my glass to symmetry
To the second hand and its accuracy
To the actual size of everything"
~I Believe in Symmetry

5. "And the sidewalk holds diamonds like the jewelry store case
They argue walk this way, no, walk this way"
~Landlocked Blues

6. "So let's hold up our fists to the flame in the sky
to block out the light that is reaching for our eyes
because it would blind us. It will blind us."
~A Song to Pass the Time

7. "i need something i want to be close to
and i scream, but i still don't know why i do it
because the sound never stays it just swells and decays
so what is the point?"
~The City Has Sex

(picture courtesy of www.thestoryinthesoil.com)

Tuesdays are tue long*

I work the on the Missourian copy desk on Tuesday nights, and it seems like everything always happens on Tuesdays: Today's Valentine's Day. Quin Snyder finally showed up for a press conference (check tomorrow's Missourian). Plus, for the first time since, like, third grade, I have the flu.

I should be miserable right now. My head feels like it's balancing on my neck ever-so-delicately, my nose and throat are raw and I've had a fever since yesterday at 11 a.m. The reporters just got back from Quin's conference, so I know I'm going to be stuck here on the desk until at least midnight, most likely later. And I don't have a Valentine.

But, to my own surprise, I'm not.

I've always had a bit of masochism in me. A taste for the suffering of being sick, sleep-deprived or alone. But I'm not really enjoying it all this time. Maybe I'm growing up or becoming self-actualized or something. Or maybe I've finally gotten over myself.

Either way, today I smiled at the couples holding hands on campus and "awww-ed" at the Facebook announcements. I'm not complaining on the copy desk because I've seen how hard the reporters have been working on the Snyder story (and besides, their work on this one will give them a huge leg up in the job market.) And I gave in and bought a box of DayQuil on my way to class today. (Actually, maybe that's what's causing this optimistic delirium.)

So Happy Valentine's Day. Kudos on your journalistic expertise, and I'm sorry to hear about your departure, Quin. And, get well soon.

Cheers.

(*this is today's quote, compliments of the away message of my best friend from high school. Thanks, I didn't think you'd mind.)

it's golden.

Honestly, I don't have a lot to say right now. Or perhaps I have loads to talk about, but I'm just not ready to yet. Either way, I'm in a mute mode.

“You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts; and in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered. For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words may indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly.” ~Kahlil Gibran

I think there's a little bit of truth in that statement. I don't agree entirely - I clam up when I'm not at peace with my thought - but the idea that talking kills the thinking process is intriguing. Sure, sometimes it helps to talk things out, but once you do the thought is bound to those words. Gibran's cage is a near perfect metaphor: once vocalized, an idea is forever framed. I'd rather stay quiet but pensive and wait my reeling thoughts out.

And that's all I have to say (or not say) about that.

all around the limbo world

Sociology. I was never one for the subject. I took a particularly horrible intro class freshman year that completely turned me off to it. The teacher was pompous and pretentious, and the reading was painfully dry. Plus the final exam was at 8 a.m. That alone was enough to vow to never take another sociology course again.

Until this semester. My sister is studying to be a marriage and family therapist and/or child psychologist, so I enrolled in Sociology of the Family to learn a little bit about her field. Needless to say, I have been pleasantly surprised with the class thus far.

That said, I my change of heart is more towards a love-hate relationship. I enjoy learning about family structures and breaking down myths of the family as a social institution, but the subject matter is almost depressing in a way. It's saddening to learn that any conception I had about family or relationships is false - it almost hurts really. Think of it this way:

"A little fact is worth a whole limbo of dreams."
~Ralph Waldo Emerson, "The Superlative," Lectures and Biographical Sketches

Take one of our readings from last week, Martin King Whyte's "Choosing Mates - The American Way," for example. Whyte studied the history of dating and current dating practices and then made conclusions about its effectiveness in choosing a marriage partner. His reserach pointed to the conclusion that dating is a "crap-shoot," that people that marry their first love are much more likely to achieve happiness than those who shop around.

As a somewhat of a serial dater, that conclusion is a bit upsetting. More accurately, as a serial single, that conclusion almost made me cry. I met – and left – my first love in high school, so that doesn’t leave much hope for me finding lasting companionship, according to Whyte, anyway. That simplistic conclusion placed my dream of carrying a bouquet of red tulips at my wedding in that mysterious area where, according to some Christian faiths, the souls unbaptized babies reside – in limbo.

How sad, really.

But then Whyte tossed in another fact to throw everything into limbo again. In a closing statement that I find paradoxically optimistic, he concludes, “Mate selection may not be a total crap-shoot … if dating does not work, love perhaps does.”

And just like that, everything’s in a new limbo.

Yeah, its definitely a love-hate relationship with Sociology. Cheers.

any given Superbowl Sunday

“You find out that life’s a game of inches, so is football. Because in either game – life or football – the margin of error is so small. I mean, one half a step too late or too early and you won’t quite make it. One half second too slow, too fast and you don’t quite catch it. The inches we need are everywhere around us. They’re in every break of the game, every minute, every second. On this team we fight for that inch. On this team we tear ourselves and everyone else around us to pieces for that inch. We claw with our fingernails for that inch. Because we know when we add up all those inches, that’s gonna make the fucking difference between winning and losing! Between living and dying!”
~Al Pacino as Tony D’Amato, Any Given Sunday

I love football. I hail from Oshkosh, Wisconsin, a small town about 45 minutes away from Green Bay, the home of the Packers. I grew up worshiping the likes of Brett Farve and Bart Starr, Mike Holmgren and Vince Lombardi. Football is a religion back home. When Reggie White died, the headline of my local paper was "Minister of Defense called to heaven." It will be a mournful day when Brett retires - along with the rest of Wisconsin, I'll probably shed a few tears.

Today is a glorious day for sport and pop culture. Enjoy it. Cheers.

the state of ambivalence

Tuesday was quite a busy day, if you think about it.

Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito was confirmed and sworn in. The Senate also approved Ben Bernake to take over the Federal Reserve, replacing the iconic Alan Greenspan. Coretta Scott King, wife of civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr., died early Tuesday morning, (or late Monday night, Central Standard Time.) Add in President Bush's State of the Union address, and you've quite the cocktail of national/political events.

All I kept thinking about was the lyrics to a protest song off Metric's 2003 album, Old World Underground, Where Are You Now? While the entire song, "Sussexy," is good, but two particular passages stuck out to me:

All we do is talk, sit, switch screens
As the homeland plans enemies

and

Passive attraction, programmed reaction
More information, cash masturbation
Follow the pattern - the hemlines, the headlines
Action distraction, faster than fashion
~Metric, "Sussexy"

I won't pretend to be an astute political mind. I read newspapers and have my opinions, but I still haven't claimed alligiance to a political party. I feel strongly about certain issues, but I've never felt confident enough to defend myself in a serious debate. That said, I really like those passages from "Sussexy." To me, they perfectly describe Americans' political attitudes.

The key word here is ambivalence. Americans are conflicted. Ideally, people want to invest themselves in the national political scene but, rationally, ignorance is simply easier. It seems an educated ignorance is the way to go - getting canned news and opinions from talking heads and editorials. More conflictions arise with that little bit of knowledge, though. Americans may have certain ideas about what sorts of policy the government should make, but their values and ideals don't always coincide. In otherwords, Americans will never be satisfied.

And I'm no different. But days like Tuseday make me wish I was.

Cheers.

ode to a bashful blogger

Before I wrote that first post, I wasn't too keen on keeping my own blog. I've grown to enjoy reading others', but, as a fairly timid person, I was a little nervous to put my own thoughts out there. After posting and seeing actual comments on it, however, a rush waved over me. I think blogging might be the perfect medium for a sometimes-shy writer such as myself.

A few years ago, I would have told you I lived my life by the following quote:

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on
-John Keats, "Ode to a Grecian Urn"

(I'd love to tell you I found that excerpt while engrossed in a thick, leather-bound volume of Keats' best works. This find actually came from the third novel in Ann Brashares' teen-fiction Traveling Pants series, "Girls in Pants." Quote-lovers, you'd love these books. Brashares ingeniously sets the tone of each chapter by precluding it with a quotation. Even if you don't read the whole thing, I recommend at least paging through it.)

I was a painfully shy adolecsent/teenager. Actually, "painfully" is probably to weak of an adjective. It wasn't just that I was scared to speak infront of people or to authority - I was timid in private, non-confrontational situations as well. (In fact, I lost my first love - the first time - in part because I didn't speak up enough.) Those lines from Keats' poem seemed to justify and celebrate my silence.

For a long time I rationalized that the things unsaid were often more important, more meaningful, than those that were said aloud. And I still agree to a certain extent. But there often comes a point when even the most self-concious need a public outlet. Blogs can cater directly to that need. Not only does a bashful blogger get the release of personal expression, but he or she can stay at home and still be famous.

So I'm going to play on.