Filed under journalism

a job i am totally applying for

Today, moments after I hung up from Skyping with my mom, I found a job I really want. I mention Skyping with my mom because in that conversation I’d been talking about how when I graduate I’ll be looking for work all over the place, and how one of the upsides of being unattached is being able to be mobile, and all that jazz, but also how I’d only try working in the U.S. if it was a great job. We talked about places I’d be more or less interested in. At no point in this conversation did Alaska come up.

Of course, Alaska is where this job I found is.

But I think I’d be a pretty excellent New Media Producer for the Juneau NPR affiliate. Here’s a snippet of the job description:

… an individual with experience and skills in journalism and online content management, including writing and editing for the web, graphic design and site management.

I could completely do that. And do that really well. And it would actually integrate my journalism side with my digital librarianish side (you know, content management kinds of things).

Anyway, I’m putting together an application for them. It’s probably a bit of a long shot (I am a foreigner and all), and it’d mean I’d have to finish my MLIS with a couple of web-delivered courses (which wouldn’t be a big deal), but it could be neat.

Sorry this didn’t happen an hour before you called, Mom. I might have been more excitable.

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decadence and depravity so completely optional

Today was the something-or-otherth running of the Melbourne Cup, a massive horse race in Melbourne (though if you watched any of it you might be forgiven for thinking it took place in an Emirates airliner). Despite my work history I know and care very little about horse-racing. I know how the bets work but couldn’t handicap a horse if my two dollars depended on it. Which it did. I will now spoil the ending to this story by revealing that I am not now a millionaire due to my horse-picking skills. Nor a thousandaire.

A couple of weeks ago Edmund asked if I was interested in going to a lunch for the Melbourne Cup as a “team-building exercise.” The three of us from the office would go to a lunch at the Art Gallery where an ABC announcer would be calling the race and there’d be champagne and classy hats and it would all be an appropriately glamorous event. I said sure, and Edmund bought tickets to the fancy lunch.

I was prepared for displays of wealth and/or the aspirations towards wealth and got my observational mind ready to take notes. I mean, that’s what writers do at horse races, right? Observe the people who care about the sport of kings and how utterly appropriately they behave in accordance with those aspirations. So today I wore a tie for camouflage and was ready for Derby-day-esque 1% shenanigans.

We were in the elevator heading down to Edmund’s car when he was looking at the tickets we had. And he paused. “The National Gallery of Art? That’s not what they call it.” The three of us shared consternation (in glancing and frowning form). Edmund had a terrible feeling that was confirmed when we went back up to the office to check the internet: this lunch was in Canberra.

This is the hazard of buying things bound to locations in a medium that is so locationless, I guess. I saw the email Edmund had received and it didn’t actually say Canberra anywhere on it.

So we went for lunch at the nearby Thai place, bought a bottle of champagne and stopped off at a TAB to place a couple of bets before returning to the office to watch the race on our television with poor reception. It was a fine race. Edmund’s horse won, which goes a little way towards offsetting the donation he made to the National Gallery of Art.

And that is my Melbourne Cup story.

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there are only three topics

The whole internet-sabbatical aspect to this trip has been derailed mightily. It’s because there’s wifi at the bakery and this is where I’m spending so much of my time. And I don’t need to borrow Holly’s laptop, since I brought my netbook whose VPN works so I can access the world the way I would at home. Sort of.

Last night I was talking with one of Holly’s friends about Chinese media and free expression and such. He’d been to the States on a scholarship given out by the government after the 2008 Sichuan earthquake (that was a Red Cross/Crescent link – here’s the Wikipedia version) which did a lot of damage to his hometown. He had some personal experience with the media since he was interviewed by China Daily as well as a Sichuan newspaper about his experiences.

He complained about China Daily’s “famous reporter” changing everything he’d said to “make the government sound so wonderful.” What I found really interesting was how after the interview he’d been contacted by China Daily to say they’d have to make some small changes to make it sound better. “They were not small changes!”

The Sichuan paper reporter got him mad for being too prying, and forcing him to think about all the ways he felt when the terrible things were happening to his hometown (he wasn’t there at the time). “What was your feeling then?” the reporter kept asking. I had more sympathy for this reporter, since if you don’t pry you just get crappy bland stories.

We also talked about Tibet and whether it was always a part of China. We talked about the importance of a diversity of perspectives in history and current events. I talked about how the corporatization of Western media makes it suck (not as much as state-controlled media but that it isn’t as great as its ideals might suggest).

We didn’t get into Wikileaks.

Holly’d been working and only passing by our table occasionally, and I was talking most of the time. The only question she needed to ask about that odd state of affairs was “So was it comics, baseball or journalism?”

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goddamnit culture of fear

I saw this story in the Winnipeg Free Press yesterday. There was a bicycle and a suitcase chained to a sign downtown and someone decided it must be a bomb because they couldn’t find the owner. The cops blocked off traffic and brought in a fucking robot.

Police blew up the suitcase around 8 p.m. to a loud bang and a blast of white smoke, but the suitcase turned out to be a dud.
“There is no indication there was anything explosive (in the suitcase),” Michalyshen said.

I have issues with the police overreaction but I have greater issues with the story’s use of words. I don’t think it counts as a “dud” if it was a suitcase filled with non-explosive materials that wasn’t trying to be a bomb. Using the word dud in the story implies that it was a bomb that was faulty. Matt Preprost calls it a dud twice in the story to justify an overreaction by scared people. It seems that it was actually a functional suitcase and didn’t “fail to work properly” until the police blew it up since its proper function was containing shit.

Stupid.

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maybe i should have some content up

So I got something fun in the mail today. The latest issue of Broken Pencil, the magazine of zine culture and the independent arts. The reason this is extra fun is that I have a story in it. It’s near the back, is very short and is not a real pretty story. It’s called Texas Bound. Mom, you won’t like it. (I like it though.)

I just kind of panicked when it came in the mail because my bio/blurb after the story mentions this here website and I realized I haven’t written anything besides book reviews on here in quite some time. So, if you’re here from Broken Pencil and aren’t really keen on reading all my half-assed book reviews, check out my China posts. They’re probably the best stuff on here since the unpleasantness I’m not supposed to talk about. And I just noticed most of the links are broken on the Journalism page. That’s too bad. But I’ve got a Flickr account and Vagabondscrawl is my linkblog if you care what I’m reading.

Anyway. I had a good day. I have a couple of book reviews that need writing, but I’ll get them up tomorrow. Tonight I have Lego robots to build. On Friday I’ve got the day off and I am totally getting my shit together to take some decent pictures of them.

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the vagaries of local news

Wow, two Winnipeg Free Press mentions of the Millennium Library in one week. One about the wonders of the Local History Room, and one about bedbugs in the library.

I kind of wonder how the timing on these two articles worked, as the bedbugs issue appears to have actually happened in 2009 (the article mentions a second bedbug being found in December). Did the Free Press know about the bedbugs when the entomologists were checking out the library and just hold off writing about it until after the nice piece on the Local History Room? Was there some sort of off the cuff comment made to Morley Walker while interviewing someone for the Local History Room story that didn’t make it into the article but was followed up later by Bartley Kives? Why exactly are two bedbugs from a couple of months ago news (apart from letting the copyeditor juxtapose bedbugs with bookworms)?

It’s also kind of cute how in the bedbugs story the library is represented solely by the manager of library services, who does the managerial kind of thing and downplays it. I mean, it’s responsible journalism and all, not causing a commotion about something that wasn’t a big deal, but it also makes it a very institutional story. If Kives wanted to have made it into a more personal story he’d have interviewed some patrons or front-line workers about bedbugs in the library. Get a lot more “Eww!” kind of quotes, I bet. But then I’d be making fun of it for sensationalizing a non-issue. I guess that’s what the Sun is for.

(Holy crap does the Sun’s local news ever suck. I suppose they wouldn’t really be covering the library unless the bedbugs were dog sized and mauling people in the local history room.)

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swoon

So Salman Rushdie came to Winnipeg to give a lecture. I went. I lost the little green notebook I’ve been taking notes in for the past few months. Including the lecture tonight. Selah.

Here’s what I remember:

He talked a lot about literature. Moreso than I thought he would. I’d have thought it would be a more political kind of thing considering the title (which I can’t remember and am not going to go look up just now), but it was about the importance of surrealism in our non-real world. He talked about our world being odd. He talked about the financial crisis in “this country” (no one corrected him on that, though someone did when he was talking about the collapse of newspapers and he was discussing the Boston Globe and the Washington Post – “You’re in Canada!” and he got flustered and embarrassed and was a bit more conscious of it afterwards) and made casual shots about Dubya and Dan Brown (who my mom had never heard of), and the Ayatollah. That was weird actually. After talking a bit about his “little problem” he ended it by saying something like “but now only one of us is dead” and everyone laughed and applauded. “Woo! Death to the Ayatollah!” Yeah. Weird.

He took issue with people labelling his work magical realism, because so often it stresses the magical and forgets about the realism. He spoke of how “The world isn’t journalistic anymore. It’s fictional.” He talked a lot about Dickens and how novels used to be the media people learned the news. He talked about language and being able to tell your own story. Of artists as rememberers. He made reference to Kundera there, and to Joseph Heller and Jane Austen and Bono. I felt like I was in the right place since I knew 90% of the writers he was talking about. But I also felt like I learned something about what my job as a writer is. And that’s important. If I’m going to try do this thing.

And afterwards I met up with James and LeAnn and we got our books signed after chatting in line. I told Sir Rushdie when he was signing The Ground Beneath Her Feet how it was the book I always give to my musician-type friends. He told me how his musician friends appreciate it too. “‘Yes!’” he said they say “‘That’s how it is!’ And what better review can a person get?” I didn’t tell him how much one of my musician friends hated it. James got Haroun and the Sea of Stories signed and told him how he’s taught it in grade nine for years. SR told James that the companion volume will be coming out in the next few months. It’s about Haroun’s little brother.

Yeah. I had a wonderful time.

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book review: my war gone by, i miss it so

Holly was reading Anthony Loyd’s book My War Gone By, I Miss it So while we travelled through Sichuan and passed it on to me after she finished. It’s a story about journalism in the Bosnian war from the mid-90s, a war I knew practically nothing about. When I say story, I mean it is his factual, emotional account of covering the war. And about heroin.

So there’s a lot going on. A lot of characters in fragmentary glimpses. A lot of horrible things that soldiers do to people. Loyd has his point of view in the book (I don’t know what his filed stories at the time would read like), his allies and who’re good soldiers and who’re murderous bastards. I have a touch of a “Hey, what about the guys you’re villainizing here” but he would say that’s because I wasn’t there and didn’t see the HVO send Muslim prisoners back to their lines remotely wired with landmines and so I don’t get to say anything.

Loyd talks a lot about how he needed to be on the front lines, right in the action, to see things for himself, which is an instinct I recognize in me (though I’m obviously too timid a person to be able to translate that into any sort of effective journalism myself). But he talks about growing up in a military family, about having respect for soldiers, about wanting to be one himself, and that I don’t understand.

But whatever, that’s not the point of the book. The point is to talk about war and the limited point of view and limited actions a person gets to take in the face of all these events.

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book review: dmz volume 6 blood in the game

Brian Wood’s SF journalism comic DMZ is my favourite ongoing comic series, and Blood in the Game tickled me in all the right ways. The trades for this book are almost self contained story arcs which is nice. This one is about the election in New York. And this one kind of steps over the line where Matty Roth (who started off as a journalism intern dumped into a war zone, and is now the only independent(ish) news voice in the war zone that is New York) goes into activism instead of just reporting. I expected a shift but I didn’t expect him to get co-opted so quickly.

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americans may have demagogues but we’re toppling our government this week

I must say I loves me the day to day uncertainty of a multiparty parliamentary democracy. Our federal election began a year later than the American presidential race, finished three weeks earlier so Harper could welcome Obama as neighbouring leader, and now the NDP and Liberals reach a deal to topple the minority Tory government next week but they haven’t decided who the new leader of the Liberal party is yet, so who knows who the Prime Minister will be when Obama stops being the president-elect? Will protocol demand that Bush leave a congratulatory message for someone? When we aren’t even having an election over this? I love these flurries of activity. What’s going on in the states? A whole lotta waiting for 1/20/09. We could have three more leaders by then.

(For my American reader(s?), our NDP and Liberal parties are our Centre-Left and Business-Centre parties. The Conservative Party is currently in power but don’t have enough members in parliament to do what they want with impunity, which is why this is possible. We’ve talked about this before.)

Note that I am not by any means an expert on the actual non-trivial implications of any of this, so please excuse any misinformation you might feel is part of my commentary.

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