By Elizabeth Castoria on January 5, 2011
Hi there! I don’t know if we’ve met, but I’m the media. (OK, fine, I’m not all of it, but I am definitely one teeny tiny part. Jon Stewart, Anderson Cooper and Jane Velez-Mitchell are in here somewhere, too.) So often people talk about “the media” and its influence on our society and culture as though it was a singular entity and a really mean one. It feels like the media is basically the equivalent of a cultural Balrog, the big nasty monster of shadow and fire from “The Lord of the Rings.” (Oh, excuse me. My nerd slip is showing!) As technology progresses, the media’s swirling firestorm grows exponentially. Every time a new method of delivering information to people is developed, we are more continually blasted with the influence of the media.
Creating more news conduits (aka technologies) makes room for more news providers, and as a result people have become very choosy about the types of news they take in and from which providers. Long gone are the days when every house in any city would have the local paper delivered daily, which gave the community not only a register, but a shape from having its residents sharing the same knowledge of current events. Now, we can choose to get tweets from certain sections or reporters from our favorite paper, stream only the clips of video that we most want to watch, or rely completely on blogs for our doses of daily info. While this specificity does make the news experience much more personal (and thankfully keeps newsletters with non-vegan dishes out of my inbox), it also makes the media seem like an unimaginably big monster, continually spewing out tweets, re-tweets, re-postings, links and newsletters that collate them all.
But here’s the thing: I’m the media. As managing editor of a national magazine (that just so happens to be about veganism, my favorite subject of all time), I have basically the best job on the entire planet, and one that falls decidedly under the media umbrella. I’m not just saying this to flatter myself, but I don’t too closely resemble the Balrog. At 5 feet 3 inches tall, my firestorm is more like a warm breeze. I’m a person, probably much like you. I like kale salad, walking to work and very nearly anything with chocolate on it. The big swirling mass of media is made up of tons of people, and none of the ones I’ve met have big pointy horns.
So, come over and say hi! I swear not to bite or throw molten lava at you. It’s my job to know about the amazing project that you’ve just started and tell the world about it. Media culture is a perfect example of squeaky wheels getting greased. If you have the most magnificent non-profit on the planet, you need to sound an alert! Let me know about the phenomenal book of vegan recipes you’re coming out with; tell me all the details of the vegan food company you’re about to launch, and clue me in when you’re planning an event so wonderful that I’d be embarrassed not to know about it. Call me! (OK, in reality, I prefer email, but other editors might disagree.) The good news is that with so many more reporters, editors and bloggers out in the world these days, you have even more opportunity to let the world know about whatever amazing work you are doing.
Contacting the media is something even we in the media need to know how to do. Here’s a little for instance: Once upon a time (a few months ago) we had just announced the winners of our 2010 Veggie Awards. Since we’re fortunate to have a lovely relationship with the editors at Ecorazzi, they gave their readers a little sneak peek of our lineup, which sent a bunch of traffic to our website and created buzz around our story. Sure, you’re thinking, media love fests are fine and dandy for you insiders, but what about me, the mere mortal? Try this example on for size: When Eleni Vlachos started the Bull City Vegan Challenge – a competition that encouraged restaurants to offer new, vegan items on their menus for the month of October – one of the first things she did was email me the scoop. The result? Her hometown activism was featured on VegNews.com.
As much as it might seem like the media is unreachable, uncaring or unreasonable, it’s made up of people who (for the most part) want to tell good stories. Each of us has the chance to shape the media. With any luck, we’ll someday talk about it like something slightly less scary than a fire-breathing monster and more like a trusted friend.
Photo Credit: Valerie Everett
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By Rory Freedman on July 26, 2010
July 1, 2010
It scares me to even write this because then it will be real. But that’s exactly why I need to write this – I need it to be real. I need to put it out there and be accountable. And in order to battle any addiction, you need a support group.
I’m canceling my cable.
Ahhh!! It’s real! I said it. I’m accountable. I’m really doing it. Oh my God. I’m freaking out. I’ve been a TV junkie my whole life. Growing up, I had a TV in my room from the time I was two or three. In college, I had an illegal cable descrambler. And now, after a long, busy day, there’s nothing I love more than sitting on my couch with TiVo. And perhaps if I was a normal TV watcher, this would be fine. But I’m not. I’m an addict. I can’t sit down and watch one or two shows and call it a night. I’ll sit down in front of the TV, already exhausted, at 9:00 or 10:00 pm, and then watch straight through to at least 2:00 am, occasionally 3:00 or 4:00. Every time I’ll promise myself, “just ‘Grey’s Anatomy,’ ‘Private Practice,’ then bed.” But like all addicts, my disease is beyond my control. So after “Grey’s” and “Private,” depending on the season, come “Glee,” “The Bachelor/Bachelorette,” then “The Real Housewives of New York City,” “The Real Housewives of New Jersey,” “The Real Housewives of Orange County,” “United States of Tara,” “Nurse Jackie,” “The Tudors,” “Survivor,” “So You Think You Can Dance,” “Mad Men,” “Friday Night Lights,” and on and on and on.
Just writing this, my heart is racing. I can’t imagine not knowing what’s going on with… all of these people/characters. (I can’t even pick some specific people/characters. I am invested in all of them!) Maybe this is a bad idea. TV gives me so much pleasure. Why should I deprive myself of that? Taking deep breaths. Getting refocused. I know why. Because it’s not good for me. Watching TV actually makes me feel bad. When I’m done, I feel like my whole being has been pervaded with negative energy. Yes, there are moments of joy, laughter, happy tears, and inspiration. But for me, for some reason, it is all outweighed by this sense of heaviness/angst/discomfort/sadness when I’m done. Maybe if I just watched “Glee” and nothing else, I’d be fine?
A year or two ago, after wimping out on canceling cable, I decided to at least cut out shows that I didn’t totally love. So I broke up with the Desperate Housewives. And I didn’t really miss them. This time, though, it feels different. I feel like I can easily part ways with the Bach and Bachelorette. But Nurse Jackie’s husband just found out she’s a drug addict, Tara just discovered a new alter ego, and Betty and Don Draper are divorcing. This is hell.
I swear this is not me backpedaling. I will allow myself a few favorites online. But I cannot and will not spend hours in front of the idiot box like I’ve done for these past three decades. I haven’t watched TV for three weeks and I’ve been fine. But last night, alone in my hotel room, I closed the curtains, hunkered down, and watched a whole slew of shit. It was such a big hit off the crack pipe. Yes, there were moments I felt happy, moved to tears, and inspired. But overall, while watching, afterward, and this morning, I felt bleh.
It feels terrifying to know that when I get home to LA later tonight, there are three weeks worth of TiVo waiting for me. I haven’t quite decided how to handle it. Technically, it’s all grandfathered in.
Regardless, I’m canceling my cable and I’m excited to see who I am and what I do without it. I’ve said it out loud, and it’s real, and I’m accountable.
Update:
July 8, 2010
I cannot believe how different my life feels already. I haven’t even canceled my cable yet but I’m already experiencing better focus, productivity, and clarity. Just knowing TV is not an option – even while it actually still is – has been amazing. I already feel certain that this was the right decision.
July 9, 2010
Shit. It just occurred to me that I still have the series finale of “Lost” on my TiVo. It feels totally ridiculous to have come this far and not watch the final episode. I will watch it, and then – bam – cable over.
July 11, 2010
I watched the final episode of “Lost” and sobbed. So beautiful, so profound. While crying, I thought, “Why would I give this up? Being moved like this is such a gift.” And it is. But it comes at a cost, and I am clear on this now.
July 12, 2010
Just hung up with my cable provider. I did it. Canceled. I had one moment of concern, when the representative started asking me if I was sure I didn’t want to just suspend the service as opposed to canceling it: What if I regretted my decision and then had to deal with a whole rigmarole to get it turned back on in a few months? But I quickly regained my composure and continued with my plan. And I feel great. It was the right thing to do and I’m thrilled to have done something so good for myself. And I’m excited to see what the world has in store for me now that I’m no longer selling my soul to TV.
Photo credit: David Ojalvo
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By Brian Fassett on March 27, 2009
When I was a kid I had a paper route. It was a pretty good gig: after school my dog Tyrone and I would cruise the neighborhood stuffing the Pittsburgh Press into mailboxes or screen doors. On Sundays I’d pull my brother’s old go-cart then bomb it empty down the steep hill home. I’d read the papers as I went, learning about my town and the world beyond. This little Norman-Rockwell-in-bell-bottoms-scene didn’t last long, however. Within a few years of my passing the baton to the next punk, paperboys were gone – killed off by a greasy old creep from somewhere else driving my route – and many others – in his rusty Cordoba. The mercenaries had wiped us out. My first lesson that news is business.
There’s a lot of news about the news these days. The internet has caught the old guard off guard. Newspapers, in particular, have had a hard time adapting and are in a dire free-fall. Major city papers across the country, having bled money for years, are finally going belly up. Seattle, Denver, San Francisco. Small local papers are dropping like flies. This week monoliths like The New York Times and The Washington Post announced major layoffs as their stock prices keep falling. Politicians are talking about media bailouts. Are we witnessing the death of the newspaper?
Then again, so what? Polls show a majority of Americans don’t really care if their local paper folds. After all, long before the internet, they began leaving newspapers in favor of the sirens-and-fires coverage on the local TV news. Each era must ride changes in technology – the town crier once lost his job to the printing press. But that’s assuming news is news. It is not. Newspapers are very good at in-depth investigative journalism. Whether it’s blockbuster stuff like Watergate and whistleblowers or small time stuff like your town council jerk taking grease for a building permit, journalism matters in our lives. There’s no substitute for a snooping reporter to keep it all real and honest. Can our new modes of information carry the torch? After years of doom and gloom, we’re starting to see the News World Order take shape in a positive way, led by President Obama.
What’s the News World Order look like? On Thursday, the President held the first-ever internet town hall meeting. 100,000 people submitted questions – some of them video – and more than 3,000,000 people voted on their favorites. Obama answered the winning questions, streaming live on the White House website. His campaign for the presidency is legendary for bringing politics into the 21st century by harnessing the power of the internet. One of the founders of Facebook ran his online community campaign, which created a foot soldier army never before seen. It’s been fascinating and encouraging to watch him, now that he’s President, transform the White House website into an interactive hub that includes hipster stuff like blogs and videos. In his press conferences, too, he’s shaken things up by calling on reporters from websites – Huffington Post and Politico – which is hugely symbolic of the shift towards the power of new media. Now, I view all this democratic flash and sparkle with a healthy dose of Orwellian skepticism. But if delivered even partially as promised, it’s a brave new era of populist power.
By the way, I’m a big fan of Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert and I don’t view them, as many do, as the death of civilization. I think that in between the jokes, they often have very important things to say that the corporate media is too afraid to tackle. I’m not really worried that the youngins are keeping up with the world through these guys.
But while comedy news and sites like the Huffington Post have been heralded as the model of the future, people seem to forget that they mostly gather and mash other people’s news. It’s symbiotic. Somebody’s still got to pay the original reporters. Huff’s staff and budget are a tiny fraction of the New York Times. This is beginning to change. Huffington is doing a great job expanding into original reporting. Bloggers are beginning to gain the clout and access necessary to serve an important role in the post-newspaper world. And this means less power to the corporate giants, which is always a good thing. We just have to keep our eye on the ball. We have to demand real reporting and reward those who perform it. And here is where, to my wife Kris’ amusement, I insert a few quotes from my main man Thomas Jefferson: “The press is the best instrument for enlightening the mind of man, and improving him as a rational, moral and social being”, “No government ought to be without censors; and where the press is free no one ever will.”
The paperboy days are gone. How will our kids learn about the world? How do you get your news?
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