Sunday, September 28, 2008

And I quote: the journalism BIBLE

If you know anything about the journalism community, and especially the journalism education community, then you hold with The New York Times with a sort of fearful reverence. It is upheld as the hallmark of good journalism: of storytelling skill, of photography, of coverage, of just being cool.

Because if you're Jenifer Aniston, it doesn't matter what you've done lately. You're Jenifer Aniston. Do you know what I mean? Say the Washington Post or the LA Times gradually inched out the NY Times in coverage. I really don't think it would matter. It's The New York Times. Good luck, Washington.

Stobbe tells us this a lot: read the Times. It is GOSPEL. I can't wait for you kids to hear from the Times reporter. They're the best.

Are they? I wouldn't know. What I do know is that when I even read the online version, I feel hipper. The writing style is Jenifer Aniston-like, in that when you read it, you sort of think in the back of your reluctant self-conscious: I wish I lived in New York.

And why should they not flaunt it? No matter how many designers or illicit babies come out of LA, the Californians know secretly that New York will always beat them. Think now, off the top of your head: how many books have you read and movies have you watched in the last year set in New York? In LA?

Despite the fact that LA is where the movies are made, the movies will always be set in New York, and this is why: It's New York. Maybe I should work on my descriptive abilities, but there it is. It is one of the most identifiable cities in the world, one of the most photographed. Just the words sound exciting, sound trendsetting.

This is the advantage The New York Times has. In a city where the fashion, the restaurants and the sight-seeing insist on being the best, why shouldn't the newspaper also be?

1 comment:

gstobbe said...

Those who pursue excellence are often spurned or rejected by those addicted to mediocrity. My uncertainty though is whether the uninspired folks are just nervous, feeling guilty or hopelessly jealous of the zeal, fervor and fanaticism the passionate create and/or accomplish with those around them.