Poor, poor beleaguered experts. How can one possibly survive the onslaught of the unwashed (and uncredentialed) blogospheric masses?
Thanks to Aunt B. for the reference, and for the citation, as well. It’s no accident that the first chapter of The Anxiety of Obsolescence cites Schickel’s article on the death of film, but I hadn’t realized that we were also facing the imminent death of film reviewing…
I’m quite behind the times on this (appropriate for mon état, quand je souffre du décalage horaire), but the talk of the lefty blogosphere a couple of weeks ago was the much that was being made of W’s having been spotted drinking what his advisors insisted was a non-alcoholic beer (and, of course, the Beeb’s somewhat tickled connection of that beverage to the “stomach bug” that apparently knocked him out of commission the next day. One might also note the gleeful reminder of H.W.’s stomachal gift to the prime minister of Japan back in 1992).
Here, however, what’s being circulated with equal schadenfreude is the video of an apparently drunken Nicolas Sarkozy in a G8 press conference. His advisors insist that Sarko never drinks, and that he simply wasn’t used to the long hours and late nights of negotiating, and that lack of sleep produced his wooziness. It’s hard, however, to imagine a late night with Vladimir Putin that could conceivably end in sobriety.
On the other hand, if I’d been asked to give a morning press conference yesterday, I might have looked much the same. Today, after a full night of sleep (though one admittedly produced with a bit of prescribed assistance), I’d be a little more on my game.
I cannot stop looking at this. There’s something about the flatness of the subjects’ affect (apparently a learned pose, which sinks in sometime around age 4) and something about the monumental changes in the kids and the ever-so-gradual changes in the parents that I find absolutely haunting.
A quick post to say thanks to Chuck for letting me know that the New York Times has finally made its Times Select features free to students and educators with a valid university email address.
Repeat subject line here.
Henry Jenkins has a new article in this morning’s Chronicle of Higher Education, suggesting the ways that the field of media studies needs to shift in the face of the increasing penetration of the read/write web (the link above should be good for the next few days, after which time I’ll hope that the article has been moved to the free side of the Chronicle website.)
I’ve opened the floor to reactions and discussion over at MediaCommons. What do you make of Jenkins’s arguments? And how might MediaCommons figure into the future that Jenkins projects?
(cross-posted from making MediaCommons)
No doubt like many of you, I spent much of my evening last night glued to my television set, flipping between CNN and the networks, trying to keep apprised of developments in the election as best I could. I also kept my laptop nearby, in order to keep an eye my favorite political media blogs (such as Crooks and Liars), in order to get a sense not just of their reaction to the events, but of their reaction to the coverage of the events.
I’m a bit dazed by it all as yet, and what thoughts I have are obviously pretty unprocessed. But I’m interested this morning in the impact that the internet has clearly had on the outcome of this election. This is nothing terrifically new; the last few election cycles have all been affected by the presence of the blogosphere. What’s new, for me, is the circulation and discussion of political ads via the network. Ads that were once tied to local or regional television markets—unless something went very wrong, and they got picked up by the network news departments—have suddenly become visible across the country, via YouTube and other video-sharing systems. Of the ten best political ads of this season (according to Salon’s Video Dog), most, like Michael J. Fox’s ad for Missouri senator-elect Claire McCaskill, which took top honors, came to the attention of a much wider audience through their wide online distribution and discussion.
One of the truisms of recent political life has held that “all politics are local”; I’ve got to wonder whether this will continue to be so in an age in which media products are so widely dispersed—and, even more, in an age in which those who consume such products are able to respond.
She’s at it again. I’ve just gotten an email message from tagged.com asking me to confirm my new account with them. I didn’t sign up for any such account. And it’s the same bloody email address this kid has been using, over and over again.
Do I:
I think my judgment may be off here, as I’m feeling quite wrath-of-webgod about it. So your advice would be most appreciated.
Some time back, I emailed the Accordion Guy, asking to be added to his list of folks who wanted a squishy cow of their very own. Joey assured me I’d be on the list, and then sometime later let everyone know that Tucows had run out of cows (there were, after all only two), and so we were all on the squishy cow waiting list.
Yesterday, there came a package. And in the package, my very own squishy cow.
And just in time, too; I really needed to stage the cow/bat showdown, just in time for Halloween.
The person who happened upon The Anxiety of Obsolescence by googling how long to bleed to death lacerated liver has me quite worried.
What I know about music honestly (as George once said here) would not fill the thimble of a small-fingered seamstress. But this is an astonishingly cool visualization, which makes clear something about the relationship of music and math that I’ve always known was there, but never really got. And which makes me wish I knew more. (Hat tip: Ezster.)
