Saturday, January 22, 2022

Whither Truth?

 On the occasion of its 15th anniversary, Politico has published the opinions of various experts on the question, “Is Media Doomed?”

As far as I could tell, none of them came up with a definitive answer but perhaps that’s because they asked the wrong question. For one thing, which forms of media are we talking about anyway?

It’s a fair assumption that human societies will always have some sort of media because we almost certainly have always had them. The original forms probably involved cave drawings and fireside gossip sessions.

The ways news travels in a pre-literate society — by word of mouth — persists even in the most highly techno-societies. Think about it — when you hear some news from a friend it can have more impact than from a venerated news source, right?

And in today’s environment, “media” encompasses a far broader swath of sources than the ones (including Politico) that I aggregate daily, because these are primarily traditional journalism outlets that normally adhere to the professional standards people like me believe in.

Information circulating via Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, SnapChat and other social media reaches at least as many people as these traditional outlets. Disinformation spread by QAnon, Trump and other extremist sources carve out their own sizable audience as well.

Governments, the academy, scientific groups, industry groups, public option pollsters, specialty publications, newsletters and individual authors affect the flow of stories, some reaching far more people than any traditional media could dream of.

Inside this cacophony, what exactly is “media” anymore?

Maybe that is another operative question.

The most common query I get from readers and friends is whether they can trust this or that source of information any longer. Skepticism even with the likes of the New York Times seems to be at an all-time high, and not just on the right.

Maybe it is our ability to trust that we need to be worried about. With so many competing points of view, optimists profess that the truth will win out. But whose truth exactly are we talking about?

Whether a story is strictly true or not is of major interest to us journalists, but I’m not so sure that is the case for our audiences. A good story — as long as it is mostly true — may be more satisfying to many than that which can strictly be proved to be so. Speculative pieces often prove to be exceptionally popular.

Maybe the question Politico should have posed is not so much about media but a much larger matter.

Is truth doomed?

SATURDAY’s HEADLINES:

Friday, January 21, 2022

Memory Hole

 

The Post ran an article suggesting the past two pandemic years amount to a “memory hole” — that everything is blurring together for many of us and the pandemic seems to be “forever ending and always beginning.”

Truly life has felt suspended for many of us, and in many ways it is. We seem stuck on that day in March 2020 when most of the country — and the world — went into lockdown — a status previously reserved for those caught in a mass shooting episode while the gunman was being located by authorities.

But this time the assailant is an elusive virus that cannot ever really be captured or exterminated. It just rolls on and on through the unvaccinated among us, mutating and colonizing inside new bodies before continuing its relentless migration around the globe and back again.

On the other hand, my memory apparently is excellent, according to the judgement of others, but then again just the other day I was convinced it was February. — it took my digital devices to rid me of that notion.

Meanwhile, as we continue to wait for that possibly mythical moment when this pandemic will be behind us, the slow erosion to our political system continues, with new voting restrictions in many states, throwing the integrity of the 2022 and 2024 elections into doubt.

It doesn’t feel like only one year ago Biden that was sworn in, or since Amanda Gorman delivered her awesome poem. Her words still ring out: “But while democracy can be periodically delayed, it can never be permanently defeated.”

I’d like to believe in Gorman’s positive vision. But it feels like many years since she said that. 

As for the pandemic, it definitely is still ending and beginning for me. Yesterday there were two more positive tests in my household, which means an extension of the lockdown and deepening of my isolation and depression.

As for that memory hole, you know what you can do with the past two years.

FRIDAY’s HEADLINES:

Thursday, January 20, 2022

Word Games


Helping one of my granddaughters with long division the other day, I compared what we were doing to the physical exercise her brother was pursuing with a passion out front — shooting basketballs.

She looked out at him with a thoughtful gaze.

“Grandpa, I feel like my mind is dribbling around in here until it can find the right answer.”

Good word choice.

Any neurologist will tell you that it’s good to play word and number games, not just for kids but most especially as you age to help fend off premature dementia. I’m not suggesting this is a solution to that complicated problem but medical opinion seems to generally hold that games like Scrabble can help.

Two of my sons have waged a long-term competition via Words with Friends that has lasted years. Slowly the younger is catching up to the older in win percentage.

But the rage with words online at present is Wordle, which a software engineer in Brooklyn named Josh Wardle created last November; by now it has become a daily habit for hundreds of thousands of people, including me.

The game, which occupies all of maybe three minutes a day, invites you to guess a five-letter word. You get six tries. After each guess, you discover which of the letters you’ve chosen are indeed part of the secret word and whether you’ve discovered their position in the word correctly yet.

So far I’ve been able to guess the word correctly the seven times I’ve played, usually by the forth try, though once I lucked out and got it on the third.

My only complaint is that I can only play this game once each day, whereas I can play robots in Scrabble multiple times each day, so for Mr. Wardle, should he read this, I have a request:

Expand the game to multiple words per day. After all, there are by most estimates 5,350-8,996 of those in English.

Or you could add words of various lengths. Then the choices approach the infinite.

THURSDAY’s HEADLINES:

  • Has the United States become ungovernable? (BBC)

  • The Senate’s Dangerous Inability to Protect Democracy (New Yorker)

 

Wednesday, January 19, 2022

Whose Life Exactly?

 

It is probably natural, having worked in the mixed worlds of journalism, movies, academia, non-profit and private sector, “old” media and digital media, that I continue to get a lot of questions about my long strange career.

It is rare that a week goes by that somebody or other doesn’t call to discuss something about the way it was “back then.”

I always try to comply wit their requests, because I was a reporter for a long time and I know how many people resist such calls about what they know or remember.

Usually I’m willing to discuss pretty much anything except the identities of certain confidential sources or relationships that should not disclosed.

That leaves a pretty wide latitude for conversation. Probably the most sought-after information is about my years at Rolling Stone and specifically the Patty Hearst stories.

In 1975-6, Howard Kohn and I had three cover stories on the newspaper heiress’s kidnapping and apparent conversion to the cause of her kidnappers, the domestic terror organization calling itself the SLA.

Even mundane details of our own lives at the time seem to be of some interest and one recent caller asked me, “Do you ever think about how amazing it is that you did all of that? That you lived through it?”

The question took me aback for a moment, but I answered, “Sometimes it feels like it was in fact someone else, not me.”

After we hung up, I stayed with that thought about it feeling like somebody’s else’s life, not mine. I suspect a lot of people feel that way about the distant past and the things that happened back then — things that sound strangely exotic now.

Given that we grow and change substantially throughout our lives it is kinda true, too, that many of us were pretty much someone else when younger. And speaking only for myself, I have no regrets about that.

WEDNESDAY’s HEADLINES:

Tuesday, January 18, 2022

Wrong Side of History

 

As the voting rights battles continue to spread in states controlled by the Republican Party in 2022, it isn’t lost on those of us who actively participated in the civil rights movement in the 60s that these were some of the same battles Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., waged 60 years ago.

Now, as then, certain conservatives try to restrict minorities and poor people from exercising their right to vote without acknowledging the racism and classism inherent in their efforts.

Instead they make excuses about trying to prevent fraudulent election results, when in fact they are the ones perpetuating fraud by erecting logistical hurdles that making voting difficult for others.

This will stop only if and when a solid majority of conservatives make it stop. Because a society cannot legislate the end of hate. As MLK’s birthday came and went again this year, it was a reminder not only of how far we have come in the U.S. but how far we have to go.

Structural racism is a persistent factor in the current voting rights struggles; otherwise they could be dismissed as simply a competition between two political parties for power. 

Even then, if the only way one party could win was by artificially suppressing the vote by members of the other party, that would be a shallow victory, one that would be on the wrong side of history and the wrong side of the quest for justice.

TUESDAY’s NEWS:

TODAY’S LYRICS:

“Dream Lover”

Bobby Darin

Best Cover: Rick Nelson

Every night I hope and pray
A dream lover will come my way
A girl to hold in my arms
And know the magic of her charms
'Cause I want (yeah-yeah, yeah)
A girl (yeah-yeah, yeah)
To call (yeah-yeah, yeah)
My own (yeah-yeah)
I want a dream lover
So I don't have to dream alone

Dream lover, where are you
With a love, oh, so true
And the hand that I can hold
To feel you near as I grow old
'Cause I want (yeah-yeah, yeah)
A girl (yeah-yeah, yeah)
To call (yeah-yeah, yeah)
My own (yeah-yeah, yeah)
I want a dream lover
So I don't have to dream alone

Someday, I don't know how
I hope she'll hear my plea
Some way, I don't know how
She'll bring her love to me

Dream lover, until then
I'll go to sleep and dream again
That's the only thing to do
Till all my lover's dreams come true
'Cause I want (yeah-yeah, yeah)
A girl (yeah-yeah, yeah)
To call (yeah-yeah, yeah)
My own (yeah-yeah, yeah)
I want a dream lover
So I don't have to dream alone

Dream lover, until then
I'll go to sleep and dream again
That's the only thing to do
Till all my lover's dreams come true
'Cause I want (yeah-yeah, yeah)
A girl (yeah-yeah, yeah)
To call (yeah-yeah, yeah)
My own (yeah-yeah)
I want a dream lover
So I don't have to dream alone

Please don't make me dream alone
I beg you don't make me dream alone
No, I don't wanna dream alone

Monday, January 17, 2022

Friendship Without Borders (Afghan Conversation 23)

[This is the 23rd in a series of conversations I have been having with an Afghan friend about life in Afghanistan since the Taliban took over his country last August. We have both come to the painful conclusion that there is no way he can safely get out of his country at the present time. Thank you to our mutual friends he mentions in this entry. Our conversations will continue, and I am protecting his identity for his safety.]

Life is an awful, ugly place to not have a best friend. – Sarah Dessen, novelist. 

_________________________________

Dear David:

What is friendship?. People have thought about it for a thousand years, but as far as I can tell there is no specific definition. 

Aristotle noted: “Without friends no one would choose to live, though he had all other goods.” 

When I was a student, most of my classmates told silly jokes, and their points of view disgusted me.  But I did have a few friends who were loyal and we helped each other when we most needed help.

Four years ago, when it looked like I would have to leave the university because of financial problems, one of my  friends said that he would support me until I finished and got my university degree. And that is what happened.

Since the Taliban took over Afghanistan, and I started to write to you about the situation here, I have been able to make a few new friends overseas.  Once or twice a week I speak with them, and I  calm down from their words like a child when he hears his mother's voice. On dark days, theseis friendships are everything to me – they bring me hope, courage, and healing,

Of course friendship, like any other form of love, can cause suffering and misery, from endless pain and constant tearing to the deep wounds of betrayal, or the painful torments of unrequited love.

But friendships have many benefits. Friendship kindles love in the heart that gives color and depth to a person's life; It creates loyalty that breaks down the barriers of selfishness; It provides us with safe companionship and a haven when we are in trouble; It is a consolation for our sufferings, the patience stone for our agony, and a motivation for our efforts. 

For now, I feel lucky that I have good friends, though few in number, lovely in nature.

***

MONDAY’s HEADLINES

Sunday, January 16, 2022

OtherWise

Locked down due to Covid, confined to the house, drinking multiple cups of coffee, my waking hours are dominated by boredom and inactivity.

Sleeping is another matter. As my physical boundaries have narrowed, my dreams have taken on whole new dimensions. During one extended sequence, I was visiting a watery paradise of islands and beaches and waves, following some time in the mountains, green and endless-seeming.

After the tropics, I was again back in the mountains, only now there was snow everywhere, quite beautiful in appearance.

As I navigated my way through these imaginary environments, there was nothing palpably dangerous or threatening for once — I seemed at ease no matter where I found myself, although I was definitely aware that I was lost and trying to find my way back to basecamp.

Nothing unpleasant, just a contentment with the world around me. But this drifting feeling when asleep is in sharp contrast to my actual physical life, which contains no movement and no change of venue.

As we process the test results as they come in, I have no indication when “real life” will resume. Until then I guess I’m hoping that my dream life at night will continue to compensate for the cabin fever of my days.

TODAY’s NEWS: