Journalism Old Style
I've said it before. Political Blogs are not the future of journalism. They are journalism's past, reborn.
Instead of illustrating that with a dissertation on the evolution of American newspapers in the 19th century, I'll offer you a more delightful way to consider this.
Here's Mark Twain's short story Journalism In Tennessee, His description of newspapering in the 1870s is over-the-top, but true in spirit. His samples of journalistic prose feature the exaggeration that satire allows, but the picture they paint of the craft is essentially correct.
I've read hundreds of big town and small city newspapers from that era in my researches. Their inside columns largely were consumed with reprinting items from other newspapers and commenting on them -- much as modern bloggers do. And then, as now, the more enraged the writing, the more likely it was to appeal to an audience.
Twain's character takes a newspaper job and is given the task of writing the "Spirit of the Tennessee Press," skimming other papers from around the state and "condensing into the article all of their contents that seemed of interest."
He hands in this piece, and the editor flies off the handle. "Thunder and lightning! Do you suppose I am going to speak of those cattle that way? Do you suppose my subscribers are going to stand such gruel as that? Give me the pen!"
When the editor finishes re-writing the text, this is how it looks:
Is that not blogging? "Now that is the way to write," Twain's fictional editor says, "peppery and to the point. Mush-and-milk journalism gives me the fan-tods."
Instead of illustrating that with a dissertation on the evolution of American newspapers in the 19th century, I'll offer you a more delightful way to consider this.
Here's Mark Twain's short story Journalism In Tennessee, His description of newspapering in the 1870s is over-the-top, but true in spirit. His samples of journalistic prose feature the exaggeration that satire allows, but the picture they paint of the craft is essentially correct.
I've read hundreds of big town and small city newspapers from that era in my researches. Their inside columns largely were consumed with reprinting items from other newspapers and commenting on them -- much as modern bloggers do. And then, as now, the more enraged the writing, the more likely it was to appeal to an audience.
Twain's character takes a newspaper job and is given the task of writing the "Spirit of the Tennessee Press," skimming other papers from around the state and "condensing into the article all of their contents that seemed of interest."
I wrote as follows:
SPIRIT OF THE TENNESSEE PRESS
The editors of the Semi-Weekly Earthquake evidently labor under a misapprehension with regard to the Dallyhack railroad. It is not the object of the company to leave Buzzardville off to one side. On the contrary, they consider it one of the most important points along the line, and consequently can have no desire to slight it. The gentlemen of the Earthquake will, of course, take pleasure in making the correction.
John W. Blossom, Esq., the able editor of the Higginsville Thunderbolt and Battle Cry of Freedom, arrived in the city yesterday. He is stopping at the Van Buren House.
We observe that our contemporary of the Mud Springs Morning Howl has fallen into the error of supposing that the election of Van Werter is not an established fact, but he will have discovered his mistake before this reminder reaches him, no doubt. He was doubtless misled by incomplete election returns.
It is pleasant to note that the city of Blathersville is endeavoring to contract with some New York gentlemen to pave its well-nigh impassable streets with the Nicholson pavement. The Daily Hurrah urges the measure with ability, and seems confident of ultimate success.
He hands in this piece, and the editor flies off the handle. "Thunder and lightning! Do you suppose I am going to speak of those cattle that way? Do you suppose my subscribers are going to stand such gruel as that? Give me the pen!"
When the editor finishes re-writing the text, this is how it looks:
SPIRIT OF THE TENNESSEE PRESS
The inveterate liars of the Semi-Weekly Earthquake are evidently endeavoring to palm off upon a noble and chivalrous people another of their vile and brutal falsehoods with regard to that most glorious conception of the nineteenth century, the Ballyhack railroad. The idea that Buzzardville was to be left off at one side originated in their own fulsome brains--or rather in the settlings which they regard as brains. They had better, swallow this lie if they want to save their abandoned reptile carcasses the cowhiding they so richly deserve.
That ass, Blossom, of the Higginsville Thunderbolt and Battle Cry of Freedom, is down here again sponging at the Van Buren.
We observe that the besotted blackguard of the Mud Springs Morning Howl is giving out, with his usual propensity for lying, that Van Werter is not elected. The heaven-born mission of journalism is to disseminate truth; to eradicate error; to educate, refine, and elevate the tone of public morals and manners, and make all men more gentle, more virtuous, more charitable, and in all ways better, and holier, and happier; and yet this blackhearted scoundrel degrades his great office persistently to the dissemination of falsehood, calumny, vituperation, and vulgarity.
Blathersville wants a Nicholson pavement--it wants a jail and a poorhouse more. The idea of a pavement in a one-horse town composed of two gin-mills, a blacksmith shop, and that mustard-plaster of a newspaper, the Daily Hurrah! The crawling insect, Buckner, who edits the Hurrah, is braying about his business with his customary imbecility, and imagining that he is talking sense.
Is that not blogging? "Now that is the way to write," Twain's fictional editor says, "peppery and to the point. Mush-and-milk journalism gives me the fan-tods."
