The story of Public Editors at The New York Times has been a little like Goldie Locks and the Three Bears. The first one, Daniel Okrent, had too much fun with the column. His succeesor, Byron Calame had too little. The current Public Editor, Clark Hoyt, is just right.
This week he writes about the “scandal” du jour: The New York Times giving Bill Kristol a one-year contract to be an op-ed columnist. In the two weeks in between the Times announcement and Kristol’s actual first column, blogger mayhem ensued, with everyone being outraged for no real reason. CONTINUED »
BLAME THE NEO-CON The Times has cut their local opinion pages, in parts because no cared about Gateway National Recreation Area, and also to fund their new conservative columnist, Bill Kristol. First Iraq, now this. Democrats in '08. [NY Observer]
You know what's hard? Having opinions about current events. Because not only do you need to, you know, read about current events, you also have to make judgments from objective information. Also, forming coherent opinions with rhetorical flair? That's the worse.
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Although we can’t always shake the nasty habit of writing in the royal we, occasionally one of our editors decides to shake off the cloak of anonymity to write a short, pithy statement long, rambling diatribe about a topic of their choice. Today, Debbie Newman is that editor.
Approximately two months into my tenure at Jossip, Anna Nicole Smith died. And the media reaction was immediate. The cruel jokes and sarcastic headlines started even before the official coroner's report was released, conceivably before the family had been contacted and before funeral arrangements had been made. Supposedly reputable press outlets salivated over the chance to publicly decry this woman – a gold digger but also a mother – only moments after learning that her death was either the result of an accidental drug overdose or suicide attempt.
Appalled by the immediate onslaught of insensitive headlines and the speed with which she was desecrated by the press, I found myself in the unlikely position of defending Smith.
Although we can’t always shake the nasty habit of writing in the royal we, occasionally one of our editors decides to shake off the cloak of anonymity to write a short, pithy statement long, rambling diatribe about a topic of their choice. Today, Debbie Newman is that editor.
Days after outing Dumbledore as a same-sex oriented magician, author J.K. Rowling is already soaking up criticism from all ends of the crazyperson spectrum.
Naturally, we have the religious zealots, who don't want their precious tots reading about same-sex anything (or, for that matter, sex itself) because it's "dirty." Then, of course, we have the self-appointed literary ombudsmen, who've questioned her motives and wondered whether England's Richest Person By Far has overstepped her bounds.
Although we can’t always shake the nasty habit of writing in the royal we, occasionally one of our editors decides to shake off the cloak of anonymity to write a short, pithy statement long, rambling diatribe about a topic of their choice. Today, Debbie Newman is that editor.
After a long and somewhat confusing morning – spent predominantly browsing the internets while under the (still negligible) influence of non-drowsy cold medication – I stumbled onto an amazingly informative article in which WaPo's Howie "Story Stealer" Kurtz interviews Mediabistro founder Laurel "Suck It, I'm Rich" Touby about her extraordinary success. In the course of their discussion, Kurtz helpfully explains that Touby's website utilizes a newfangled technology called "blogging," which are, in Touby's case, "short real-time scooplets" written by media insiders, for media insiders, about media insiders.
Needless to say, my head is still spinning.*
Although we can’t seem to shake the nasty habit of writing in the royal we, occasionally one of our editors decides to shake off the cloak of anonymity to write a short, pithy statement long, rambling diatribe about a topic of their choice. Today, Debbie Newman is that editor.
When reading this week's Sunday Styles, we couldn't help but notice New York Times reporter Mayrav Saar's insightful/disturbing piece about an emerging breed of teenage paparazzi and the unfit parents who enable them. Being awkward, introspective types, we've taken the liberty of preemptively injecting ourselves into these parents' mindsets. Our objective? To figure out what rationalizations will justify allowing your child to shun boring things like "high school," "prom" and "normal adolescence" in favor of the glitz and glamour inherent to stalking celebrities in exchange for monetary compensation.
Our theories, after the jump.
Although we can’t seem to shake the nasty habit of writing in the royal we, occasionally one of our editors decides to shake off the cloak of anonymity to write a short, pithy statement long, rambling diatribe about a topic of their choice. Today, Debbie Newman is that editor.
While curmudgeonly gossip Cindy Adams typically uses her column as a mouthpiece for lavishing praise on her yappy Yorkshire terriers, she occasionally likes to switch things up by delivering an impassioned old-person rant about the degeneration of society.
Take, for instance, Sunday's column, in which Granny Adams (bless her heart!) seemingly lumps foreigners, immigrants, diplomats and terrorists into the single all-encompassing category of "Them." She then criticizes them for failing to possess "Social Security cards…subscriptions to Reader's Digest and CDs of Kate Smith singing 'God Bless America'" (we're listening to it now, on repeat!) and launches into a perspicacious discourse xenophobic tirade on the indignities of waiting in line behind "some jerk in an ill-fitting suit…from some fourth-rate country so small it's standing in line to dare shake its fist at the United States."
And it turns out ol' Cindy's just getting warmed up.
Although we can't seem to shake the nasty habit of writing in the royal we, occasionally one of our editors decides to shake off the cloak of anonymity to write a short, pithy statement long, rambling diatribe about a topic of their choice. Today, Debbie Newman is that editor.
Yesterday, Ben Smith of Politico wrote a longish, somewhat confusing article (provocatively titled "Clinton Campaign Kills Negative Story") detailing a glorified pissing contest between Hillary Clinton and GQ magazine. In said piece, ostensibly written in critique of agenda-driven journalism, the Clintons are depicted as calculating, evil and—worse still—analogous to Tom Cruise while GQ is portrayed as a spineless jellyfish,* who values self-preservation more than the basic principles of the First Amendment.
In other words, it's a completely subjective take on the importance of objectivity.
You ever notice how, anytime there's a really twisted movie, a violent video game or a new underground trend, there's always some stupid kid who comes along and ruins it for everyone else? You know, like those teenage girls who fell into a life of prostitution after seeing Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.* Or those juvenile delinquents who got caught busting cars and attributed all the blame to Grand Theft Auto.
Now, it's all well and good to claim you were stealing cars because you saw it in a video game and thought it looked cool, but we all know that's not what really happened.
In all likelihood, you got caught stealing cars because, well, you're a criminal—the kind who steals shit. And because, by the time you were ten years old, you already knew how to hot-wire the ignition, strip the car down and hock all the sellable parts in under 30 minutes flat.
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Although we can’t always shake the nasty habit of writing in the royal we, occasionally one of our editors decides to shake off the cloak of anonymity to write a short, pithy statement long, rambling diatribe about a topic of their choice. Today, Debbie Newman is that editor.
The day after Anna Nicole Smith's death, there are still far more questions than there are answers. And so far, it's been largely a sticky mess of facts and fiction, as media outlets rush to scoop their competitors with the latest twist, newest take or most outlandish speculations as to the cause—and aftermath—of this sad story.
Naturally, the jokes have already begun, (when will TrimSpa get a new spokesperson? Perhaps Anna Nicole was smothered by her own massive mammary glands!) but right now, we're not even close to laughing. Because while we generally strive for an irreverent tone, we're simply not comfortable reporting this in a glib, patronizing sort of way.
As it turns out, not every story has a punchline, and though this one undeniably has a lot of tabloid fodder (what exactly happened? what drugs will they find in her system? what will happen to baby Dannielynn?) it seems important to remember that what happened yesterday was still a tragedy.
Editorial Director
