Old vs. New "New Journalism"

In my salad days--we're talkin' 1960's--"new journalism" referred to works of writers like Tom Wolfe, Norman Mailer, Hunter Thompson, i.e., those who saw the world with x-ray eyes, described it with acid tongues, and moved readers to act in ways aimed at changing society. For such writing and talent, these "new journalists"got paid handsomely.

Today, I use the phrase "new journalism" in the same context we're living the rest of our lives: raw, harsh, economic realities worldwide.

That is, in the early 21st century, "new journalism" is made by those whose careers and reputations--and increasingly their incomes--are created and hustled quite cheaply online. I may be wrong, but a few sample readings in that genre tell me X-ray vision, incisive comments and handsome salaries are neither likely nor required.

Take, for example, the "spotus.org" U.K. outfit whose journalistic enterprise consists of asking readers which story they'd like to see written about. For a small donation, combined with other small donations on the topic, the blogging outfit assigns a writer to cover the requested subject. The assigned reporter looks into the matter, gathers whichever facts or quotes s/he can, and puts the story online.

According to "Day to Day" on National Public Radio, a recent "big story" for spotus.org was about the Oakland, CA police department and why there's so much police absenteeism in a city noted for having the fifth highest crime rate in the USA. Check http://www.spotus.org/ to see if you can find the story and discern its chances at effecting change in Oakland police or other citizens' lives.

Meanwhile, I'm content to rely on "the old journalism" as performed by well trained journalists--those who grasp the role of reporting in a free society and know why readers are better served when important topics are not bought in a financial vote but are produced by public-spirited editors and reporters who live in and know their communities and have a stake not only in whether their communities survive, but also in whether they thrive for everybody--not just for sellers and buyers.

In short, I like the old New Journalism a lot better than the new New Journalism. In this case, back to the future sounds about right.

January

At last, here's January. It's my favorite month. Why?

January is talented; it looks forward while also looking backward. In the cold light of First Month, we can see things better: what's past is over, what's ahead is blank. In January, we get to feel more confident of that.

Other months have a way of muddling things and missing the point. Which point? "Choice." In January, we're more likely to choose what we'll start now for accomplishment in the coming year. Here are some fresh examples:

Today is the first full day of my friend's return home after her latest bout with alcohol and depression. As she made her way to her car, the sun shone brighter, her step was livelier and her smile was wider. It was easy to think things will be better for her in the coming months.

In another January success, the dead, brown stalks of November chrysanthemums are giving way to green leaves and tiny shoots that want to be full grown someday. I shall try to help them stick to their plan.

Even the two tall hibiscus trees that are wintering in the garage are on their way to showing off again. One of them has a topknot blossom that bloomed in the dead of dark; I spotted it today while putting away strings of multi-colored lights and other reminders of Christmas past. Another January satisfaction.

Finally (even if we admit to no "finally's"), there's this: January 20, 2009 presents the start of Something Big we Americans have been building toward since January 1960, when JFK was inaugurated: a clear break with the past and a chance, albeit challenging, of a better future with a smarter, more youthful president. It means the pain of birth and hope of rebirth simultaneously.

Okay, January, 2009. Let's get at it!