“As Jeffrey Simpson articulated so well recently, the country’s politics is imprisoned in a vicious cycle of disengagement. What caused the cycle to start is an imponderable, a chicken and egg question. But it is taking its toll on our political system, and probably something we should all be more concerned about.”—No fear of the opposition - The Globe and Mail
6. In just two weeks, Chandler Levack's essay on social-media overkill, “Facebook Suicide,” has already earned a place among our top 10 stories of the year, inspiring heated debates in the comments section, a thorough line-by-line analysis by local activist/blogger Jonathan Goldsbie and a rather elaborate parody by another local media outlet that normally goes out of their way to not acknowledge our existence.
Wow! Not sure if internets will exacerbate or kill local alt-media bitchouts in 2010. (Although, it’s nice that we don’t have to wait ‘til February for this to be Press Pass gossip. But again: Who rly gives a shit except the starving writers & journo’s?)
I don’t want to flog a dead horse, but I’m surprised that the comments (esp the bolded!) in the Now parody have gone unnoticed:
"NOW Magazine is killing its (sarcastic) self to live. I’d much prefer it if NOW would do a feature on "postmodern existential techno-angst" as a response to the diary-entry essay in EYE. It would be way better than this sarcastic shot at its competitor…and please, no more cover stories on ice cream, thanks"
“Really, guys? There’s nothing else going on in the world for you to work with? There are more people in the world than those who work for your two miniscule alt-weeklies. Some of them make real news (which you should try taking a look at the next time you’re hard up for subjects) and some of them read your papers and could not possibly care less about all this self-involved high school behaviour. You’re embarrassing all of us.”
"Wow. Do you feel like a big man, Jason? Do you? What a total fucking smug whistling rectum you are. You tried to rip the shit out of a 23-year-old who wrote an article to try to pay her rent. If you worked for Harper’s and you were subtly deconstructing a New Yorker article, that would be one thing. But you work for NOW-FUCKING-MAGAZINE. You are pointless editorial copy that supports escort ads. Go get an intern to lick your balls under the table at The Rhino whilst enjoying a Zlatopramen you pathetic, shitty, horrible fuck."
“Chandler Levack is not to blame here. Since EYE is laying off practically every columnist they have, she’s probably under a lot of stress to write and pitch stories.She threw this one out and it stuck, sadly for her. So who’s to blame for the pathetic Facebook story? Her editor, Edward Keenan. The guy has blinders on to the world. He’s bringing down that whole paper.”
“Maybe it IS because they’re assigning all their work to, like, 3 writers who don’t have enough time to research anything important anymore. But that still doesn’t excuse the fact that Levack comes off as a melodramatic, egocentric hipster twat who aims really hard to sound ironic but consistently ends up missing the mark. It’s too bad Eye has stopped utilizing their other writers. They had some good ones.”
“I wish we could hear more on why Eye Weekly has adopted this journalism-on-the-cheap model: little investigative reporting, next to no research, just lots of bloggish writing and personal musings. It’s a university newspaper really…”
A friend said it best: “A lot of former interns or disgruntled freelancers with axes to grind!”
Hope I’m not being counted as a disgruntled for linking (cue a rushed thank-u-EYE-for-taking-me-on-as-an-intern-and-letting-me-write-for-2-yrs caveat), but I think self-congratulating lists of lists of lists is such filler. This is what MSM does best online: curated links, best of’s based on Google hits. I say: Bring back the SSP! Let interns promote their own blogs and DJ gigs!
Oh, & one last thing:
8. Of all the sexual quandaries discussed in Sasha's Love Bites column during its final year at EYE WEEKLY, none proved as resonant as this correspondence with a 28-year-old virgin.
Right! Jet off ‘09 off w/hyperlink parodies in #6, but tactfully fail to note that the v. same alt-media competitor who “goes out of their way to not acknowledge our existence” scooped up your much-missed sex columnist. RIGHT.
But I forgot! We’re suppose to not talk about that, are we?
Oh well. Best to wait ‘til the Ryerson Review of Journalism does theirnext ‘death of’ update.
“I tend to send my copy in on deadline, which by New Yorker standards is tacky. It has to go through three or four proofs. The fact-checkers proof; the grammarians proof. And it is amazing. Someone does go to see the film, to make sure I’m not lying. If I’m reviewing a Tim Burton film and I say that Ewan McGregor’s wearing a bright blue shirt, they’ll say to me, ‘It’s more like bright turquoise’. But you should get it right, especially if you’re going to have some fun with it. Otherwise it’s cheating. The New Yorker is the only place in the world where you can pull a piece to change a comma to a semi-colon. It’s a haven for the pedant. I love it.”—A writer’s life: Anthony Lane - Telegraph
“One of the problems is newspapers fired so many journalists and turned them loose to start so many blogs. They should have executed them. They wouldn’t have had competition. But they foolishly let them out alive.”—
I always feel that there’s such a lovely thread in what Comme des Garçons was doing in those S/S 1997 pieces — the uglypretty distortion of volume rendered as ‘unflattering’ — w/that Mark Fast S/S 2010 size 14 controversy (I remember ‘sausage casing’ coming up in a tweeted discussion during LFW).
Perhaps we’ve progressed? For so long, we’ve augmented our figures w/bustles, shoulder pads, shape wear, and corsets. I wonder if our fascination with the plus-size is in realizing that you know, post-body-con, post-thispiration, we’re moving towards the flesh in its self as augmentation. That the faux pas of showing off the unforgiving muffin top & gunt — these foibles we dismiss as deformations and failures on our parts to suck it in — suggests a new silhouette?
“Just as Facebook is not causing the death of genuine friendship, it is also not causing the birth of high school enemies. It only facilitates the malicious gossip, rumors, cruel insults and hormone-fueled anger that have long been a painful part of teenagers’ lives. Yes, the use of social networking sites to make some kid’s life miserable is troublesome — just like easily forwarded e-mails and texts, three-way calling, handwritten notes, and all the other public humiliation delivery systems of yore. And yes, the Internet’s ability to expedite the destruction of a reputation, or the escalation of simmering tensions, is something parents need to make their kids aware of. But that doesn’t mean blaming Facebook and strategizing to lure teenagers away from it. It means you have to start explaining to kids — ideally before they can type — that anything you post on the internet has the potential to dog you forever; that secrets you text or e-mail to a friend, no matter how close, could be all over school (and, if they’re interesting enough, the world) by morning; that talking smack online might just lead to a showdown in the cafeteria, etc. It means you have to acknowledge reality — these kids have already grown up online, and they’ll be communicating via the Internet for the rest of their lives — instead of acting like social aggression never existed before Facebook, and there’s still a chance that if we all wring our hands really hard, the genie might just go back in the bottle.”—
“It’s Complicated” is a fantasy, Agness not so much. There’s certainly no shortage in this country of younger women married to older men, or people on their second or third try at domestic bliss, or stressed-out women seeking aid at fertility clinics, or young women pursuing careers while trying to juggle kids and husbands (and husbands who stray; ask Mrs. Woods). Write it all off to good, unclean fun, but the 60-year-old Meyers — who seems to be specializing in the mirthful pursuits of the AARP-eligible (in “Something’s Gotta Give,” Jack Nicholson famously recoiled at the site of a naked Diane Keaton) — may be picking on the wrong group, at least when it comes to pleasing the audience for romantic comedies.”—The Moviegoer | Sticking Up for the Hottie - T Magazine Blog - NYTimes.com
“I have received some substantive grants to write, what I call, a “xenotext”— a genetically engineered poem. This project involves me translating a poem into a sequence of genes for implantation into a bacterium. I plan to compose this “xenotext” in such a way that, when translated into a gene and then integrated into the cell, the text nevertheless gets “expressed” by the organism, which, in response to this grafted, genetic sequence, begins to manufacture a viable, benign protein—a protein that, according to the original, chemical alphabet, is itself another poem. I plan, in effect, to engineer a life-form so that it becomes not only a durable archive for storing a poem, but also a useable machine for writing a poem. I have chosen an extremely durable lifeform to be the host for this poem, so that the work might, in fact, outlast our civilization, persisting on the planet until the very day when the sun explodes….”—A very Christian Christmas: a Q&A with Eunoia’s Christian Bök - The Afterword