Nora Crutcher

I'm still thinking about my field trip to Skid Row two days ago. The state of things there is so bleak, with two sides locked in polar opposition in a way that reminds me of the left vs. right talking points war that has been playing out on cable news since the dawn of Rupert Murdoch. 

We only heard one side of the argument. Everyone we talked to was on the side of the "housing first" model, which dictates that a homeless person needs a place to live before he can start addressing the problems that made him homeless in the first place. The focus is on efficient housing units and easily available medical care--both psychological and physical. The opposing model is the soup kitchen model, which is more familiar to most people. It basically runs on the idea that food is the most important thing. If you provide meals for the homeless, the rest is up to them.

The "housing first" model seems counterintuitive initially. Why give homeless people apartments when so many lower middle class Americans are working hard to keep themselves from ever becoming homeless? And why should the homeless get free medical care? As one of our tour guides pointed out, a lot of these people, if they had the means, would belong at the Mayo clinic. That's the kind of care they really need, as many of them suffer from physical disabilities as well as mental health issues. No one, she said, chooses to be homeless. A lot of them simply can't function in normal society. 

It was the sort of information you rarely read in the news. The homeless are a problem with no good solution, seems to be the consensus in the media. I appreciated hearing the less popular side, but I was slightly taken aback at how polarized the discussion of treatment had become. Everyone we walked to had the same opinion: those other guys are assholes, and they're making it worse. 

The catty tone of their comments about the other side reminded me of the current healthcare debate. The world is going to be perfect when Obama figures out healthcare reform, one side screams. No, everyone will die poor and alone, the other shouts back. Neither statement is true, just as the some homeless people would no doubt benefit from safe and affordable housing solutions, while others may prefer visiting soup kitchens. There's sure a lot of yelling going on in both debates, and it only reminds me that the (more or less) objective journalist has the potential to avoid the tantrums, present both sides calmly, and then slowly begin to steer people toward necessary change. 

Huffington Post + Facebook = the Future of Journalism (from Slate)

So now all of my Facebook friends will be able to see how many mindless Britney-related articles I read when i pretend to be reading serious news about healthcare reform? Thanks a lot. 

Interesting premise though, integrating all of the cyber conversations involved in social networking with the conversations we should be having about news. Maybe this will inspire people to chat with their friends (via Facebook of course) about current events, or to engage in an online debate about the merits of a particular article. Or maybe it will just inspire us to judge each other based on what news we read, as opposed to just on taste in music and movies. One thing is for sure: like the "most emailed" feature, if this experiment works, it will be integrated into every blog and news site in no time. 

 

I went into the Whole Foods in Santa Monica the other day, and was confronted with my worst nightmare: Ed Hardy Wine. Why will this guy not leave me alone? It seems like you can't swing a cat these days without running into some new product (folders! Perfume! Baby clothes!) stamped with that ubiquitous, tattoo-inspired logo. And believe me, if I could swing a cat, I would swing it right into Christian Audigier's face, so that he could understand what it feels like to have my eyes assaulted with his products. 

As a wannabe film critic, it seems dangerous to declare "I only write about emerging Swedish directors!" and not offer to write about anything and everything I have a little bit of background in. And I can't imagine a newscaster throwing to a field reporter by saying, "For that story, we go to John Smith, who is only an expert in the area of animal husbandry and who cannot cover any other stories. We brought him in especially for this. And we're paying him a lot." Obviously this is an extreme example, but I wonder if branding can sometimes lead to being pigeon-holed. 

It's also against all of the things I was told I had to do to get into college--vague and often contradictory generalities like "be well-rounded", "have varied interests, but not too many", "humbly accept praise". It seems to me that if the traditional business model is moving to more localized media markets, then the ability to multi-task, at least in arts reporting, would be a valuable skill. If I can cover film, TV, pop music, theatre and fine art, then maybe I'll be the person they keep on staff when they have to make cuts in my department. 

I guess I object to the idea that all branding is good, that all specialization is beneficial. Which is not to say that having an area of expertise isn't a good idea, but it's also important to be able to put any new phenomenon/performer/style (speaking arts journalistically again) into a larger framework. It's important to step outside the world of a single art form or performance and look at the broader context. Stephen Hess, in his article assigned to us in our reading packet, quotes an executive editor as saying "It's easier to make a reporter into an economist than an economist into a reporter." For branding to work, it's imperative that the quality of writing still be there, that the traditional pillars of journalism--balance, accuracy, wisdom, analysis--remain intact. 

Which brings me back to Ed Hardy. After all, anyone can create an instantly recognizable brand. It's capturing an audience and earning their trust and loyalty with a quality product that makes the difference between a nuisance and a great find. 

This is an interview with my sister about her favorite zoo exhibit. Fascinating stuff, really. I found that I was more interested in how the colors worked together than in framing in a more PBS friendly way, so hopefully it at least has that going for it. 

On a related note: the LA Zoo is pretty cool, and you should check it out if you're ever in the Griffith Park area. Say hi to Reggie for me. 

I have a fascination with the various unspoken rules and regulations associated with commenting on popular blogs or news sites. On any given blog with a distinct hook or point of view, little cliques spring up in the comments section, and you can tell instantly if you fit in or don't. In case you can't tell, the regular commenters will either validate you by allowing you into their circle or let you know just how out of line you are by berating you until you stop commenting altogether. 

This goes even further on some blogs, which allow the promoting of comments and have a regular "best of" feature highlighting the more astute comments of the week.  I think this speaks to the "Our House/Their House" question Hernandez raised in class. Do comments sections belong to the website or to the commenters? 

On a lot of blogs, it seems like they work together to reinforce the ideology of the website. The admins may block people and delete excessively mean or violent comments, but the commenters often get there first, and make equally mean comments back. I found an example from a Huffington Post in an editorial written by Bill Maher about Obama (quick break for a 30 Rock Jack Donaghy quote: "Thank you for telling me what I already know. You should work for the Huffington Post.") 

One commenter on the site, michyh, said, "I love having these texts as a teacher to use in the classroom. brilliant! keep 'em comin'!"

A dissenter, Brewtopia, replied "And you are what is wrong with the educational system in America!!!"

He was immediately shot down by fcsakes, who commented, "No YOU are what's wrong with entire mindset in America"

It's basically a community of anonymous people, connecting over a shared sense of humor or interest. And it can get a little self-congratulatory at times, with commenters patting themselves and each other on the back for cleverness. I'm not sure where it's headed in the future, but I do remember reading a New York Times wedding announcement about a couple who met as commenters on a blog. They probably have their own blog now, where they share the story of their unlikely meeting and let newcomers know that only certain types of comments will be tolerated. 

The First Rule of J-School Is You Don't Talk About J-School 

I have mixed feelings about the piece. I entered this expensive, potentially worthless graduate degree program with an extreme amount of trepidation about my future job prospects, but I'm still hoping for the best. After reading this I have to wonder: how come Columbia got Soledad O'Brien?! WTF, USC, you could at least shell out a little to get us some face time with Ryan Seacrest.