Inlägg
Det finns något som jag inte kan låta bli att förundras över... Det är artikelkommentarer. I mitt dagliga yrkesutövande stöter jag ofta på sådana som får mig att haja till. Det här inlägget, som handlar om just mina funderingar kring vissa som kommenterar, kommer att fokusera på huvudsakligen skriven journalistik, men läget är i stort detsamma inom radio och TV.
Jag kan inte låta bli att reagera över att det fortfarande tycks finnas folk som tror att artikeln de läser är en enmansproduktion. Att det finns folk som tror att journalister av idag är fria att skriva precis vad de vill, välja exakt vad de vill fokusera på i en text och hur mycket tid de har till att arbeta upp en artikel. De flesta journalister har inte den friheten över huvud taget. Det är en svår värld, journalistiken, fylld av överväganden, resonemang, tidsbrist och "måsten".
Jag förundras över att det fortfarande finns folk som är så blåögda att de inte inser att vad de ser när de öppnar tidningen är bara den färdiga produkten. De ser den färdiga texten med journalistens namn och tycks inte inse, eller inte vilja inse, att bakom varje text de läser finns det en mängd människor, diskussioner och tankar.
Journalisten är där, förstås, och intervjupersonerna.
Men där finns även redigerarna, vars jobb det är att se till så att texten är läsbar, inte bara rent stilistiskt utan många gånger även utförd i den form och på det sätt som behövs för tidningen. Deras namn skrivs aldrig ut och de är i stort väldigt anonyma, men de finns där och deras ingrepp i texterna kan ofta vara omfattande även om ingen som inte varit med under arbetets gång någonsin kan gissa sig till det. De ser bara den färdiga produktionen, trots allt, och har ingen aning om hur många versioner som skrivits, förkastats och förändrats. Redigerarna kan välja att helt ta bort delar av texten som inte fungerar, eller som bedöms vara för kontroversiella/ inte viktiga, och de kan även skriva om, ifall det bedöms nödvändigt.
Och där finns också nyhetschefen som oftast är den som bestämmer/godkänner vad journalisten ska fokusera på, som godkänner om det som skrivits är publicerbart/nyhetsvärt. Det är nyhetschefen som avgör hur snart texten måste vara inne (inte sällan samma dag, vilket ofta leder till att journalistens möjligheter för en nyanserad och väl underbyggd text minskar drastiskt och därför ofta innebär att man väljer den mindre kontroversiella vägen). Nyhetschefen värderar vad som är viktigt/passande att få ut och delegerar uppgifterna till journalisten.
Och sedan har vi, givetvis, den ansvarige utgivaren som, i slutänden, är den som godkänner om texten är ok eller inte. Och då pratar vi inte stilistiskt eller språkligt, utan innehållsmässigt. Det är den ansvarige utgivaren som till syvende och sist blir den som får ta smällen om något blir för kontroversiellt.
Nuförtiden finns även nästa dimension i betydligt högre grad och vikt än tidigare: finansiärerna. Hur gärna jag än skulle vilja att det var annorlunda så går det inte att komma undan: Även journalistiken är beroende av ekonomi.
Folk tycks dock inte inse att det inte är gratis att trycka en tidning eller producera ett inslag. Tekniken, pappret, trycksvärtan, distributionen, programmen som används. Allt kostar. Därtill kommer också lokalhyra, el, värme och vatten. En journalistisk produktion uppstår inte från tomma intet och, återigen oavsett hur gärna man skulle önska det, kan inte bara dyka upp i din morgontidning eller din radio eller i TV-rutan utan att en krona har spenderats.
I dagens läge är journalistiken inte sällan mer eller mindre beroende av medel som kommer från företagsinvesteringar eller staten, exakt samma som journalisterna är satta att granska. Idealiskt sett borde det inte spela någon roll i den större bilden, journalistikens roll borde inte få förändras. Men i verkligheten fungerar det inte så. Man kan vara idealistisk, man kan försöka att gå sin egen väg. Men i dagens värld är jag rädd att pengarna har fått en alltför stor plats och makt, även över dem som ska granska vårt samhälle. Det är ingen lätt balansgång, att göra sitt jobb, utföra sin journalistiska plikt och passion och samtidigt klara sig i denna värld.
Och sedan kommer folk, som tror att de vet allt om texten (trots att de, återigen, bara sett den färdiga versionen), och förfasar sig över osakliga journalister, över "köpta" eller "propagandapåverkade" journalister. Som uttalar sig som om de tror att de skulle ha gjort det bättre, som uttalar sig om vad som passar och vad som inte passar, som anklagar journalisterna för att blåögt eller ohederligt svälja företagens och politikernas sida av saken. Personer som tror sig känna journalisten och veta vad som pågått i dennes huvud under arbetet med texten.
Debatter är bra. Feedback är bra. Det hjälper journalistiken, och samhället, att utvecklas. Men samtidigt ska man vara medveten om att det är alldeles för lätt att tycka i efterhand, när texten redan är publicerad och "klar". Det är lätt att tycka när man själv inte har den minsta aning om vad som skedde på redaktionen, på journalistens block och dataskärm, via telefonlinjen eller i intervjusituationen under arbetets gång.
Det är helt ok att lämna artikelkommentarer, det är helt ok att vara kritisk. Men innan man sätter sig ner och börjar skriva och förfasa sig, ryta över "abrovinscher" och slänga ur sig anklagelser bör man ta ett djupt andetag och fråga sig:
"Vad vet jag egentligen om den här texten?"
Visar inlägg med etikett journalism. Visa alla inlägg
Visar inlägg med etikett journalism. Visa alla inlägg
fredag 6 juli 2012
torsdag 19 april 2012
Assorted updates
Well, it would seem I've sorely neglected spewing my sarcastic cynicism by way of this blog for quite some time. To my defense I was tricked into starting to blog and then real life decided I needed an intervention just for the hell of it.
So, what's new? Most everything, I would say. I have relocated some 540 km north of my previous home town, thus making a skip sideways and maybe slightly back to the place where I once grew up. The very place that began the shaping of the human I am today.
It all began when the news desk I've been working at for the last two summers contacted me and asked if I could fill in for one of their journalists here in Gällivare. Naturally I decided to take the plunge, three months more experience (as well as a steady salary during that time) is definitely nothing to scoff at. So, said and done. I packed the most necessary things into my little Golf and drove northbound. The first two months or so I stayed with a friend and her family since it's almost impossible to find vacant apartments in quick order (even if you, like me, had seven years of queuing for one). The cats and my horse had to make do without me, which they seem to have done perfectly well, aided by my wonderful friends and stable-mates.
Then I finally got an apartment. It's really cute, bigger than my previous one but with lower rent so I jumped at it. I have come to realize, though, that I've got way too little in the way of furniture. My living room still looks quite unbalanced at the moment, with way too many empty areas. But no matter, I'll fix it later. Thanks to the apartment I could finally fetch my cats and rent out the apartment in Umeå to a wonderful friend. The horse came up shortly after and is now quite happily installed at a brand new stable and spending his days having breakfast, lunch and dinner with a hot Spanish young thing. He seems quite happy though he's still doing his best to uphold his usual heteronormative behavior. Poor boy's got to be confused with all those gorgeous Spanish and Icelandic boys going gaga over him.
Anyway, back to my favorite subject, me. The three months of temporary work were up this Sunday (which I deeply lament since I had a heap of fun working at that news desk). Now I'm once again without a job, but only for two months. Then I'll hop onto two months of working for the rivaling news desk in this town. Something that is so exciting I can't even begin to describe it. It'll be fun to see things from that side of political colors.
Lastly I think it is more or less required of me to say something about my darling cars. The Toyota got a big red mark for the shock absorbers and is thus currently loitering on my friend's yard until I can afford buying new shock absorbers and convince someone, by way of my oh so considerable charm, that they would like nothing more than to tinker around with installing the damn things. I'll write an update on my success someday in the future.
The Golf is singing on its last verse, and quite a bit out of tune at that. The generator is making the most awful noises, like someone torturing a banshee ghost with a wooden spoon, at inopportune moments, usually when we're driving through a resident block late at night... I'm currently taking bets as to how long it will take before a) the generator flips me the bird definitely and the car won't start or b) an enraged mob decides to take matters in their own hands and reduce my little red bullet (or the Cow as it is fondly addressed as) to a pathetic pile of rusting red metal... To be updated if I get away unscathed.
So, that was probably all I had to write now. Now I'm going to return to staring fondly at my new ceiling lamp.
So, what's new? Most everything, I would say. I have relocated some 540 km north of my previous home town, thus making a skip sideways and maybe slightly back to the place where I once grew up. The very place that began the shaping of the human I am today.
It all began when the news desk I've been working at for the last two summers contacted me and asked if I could fill in for one of their journalists here in Gällivare. Naturally I decided to take the plunge, three months more experience (as well as a steady salary during that time) is definitely nothing to scoff at. So, said and done. I packed the most necessary things into my little Golf and drove northbound. The first two months or so I stayed with a friend and her family since it's almost impossible to find vacant apartments in quick order (even if you, like me, had seven years of queuing for one). The cats and my horse had to make do without me, which they seem to have done perfectly well, aided by my wonderful friends and stable-mates.
Then I finally got an apartment. It's really cute, bigger than my previous one but with lower rent so I jumped at it. I have come to realize, though, that I've got way too little in the way of furniture. My living room still looks quite unbalanced at the moment, with way too many empty areas. But no matter, I'll fix it later. Thanks to the apartment I could finally fetch my cats and rent out the apartment in Umeå to a wonderful friend. The horse came up shortly after and is now quite happily installed at a brand new stable and spending his days having breakfast, lunch and dinner with a hot Spanish young thing. He seems quite happy though he's still doing his best to uphold his usual heteronormative behavior. Poor boy's got to be confused with all those gorgeous Spanish and Icelandic boys going gaga over him.
Anyway, back to my favorite subject, me. The three months of temporary work were up this Sunday (which I deeply lament since I had a heap of fun working at that news desk). Now I'm once again without a job, but only for two months. Then I'll hop onto two months of working for the rivaling news desk in this town. Something that is so exciting I can't even begin to describe it. It'll be fun to see things from that side of political colors.
Lastly I think it is more or less required of me to say something about my darling cars. The Toyota got a big red mark for the shock absorbers and is thus currently loitering on my friend's yard until I can afford buying new shock absorbers and convince someone, by way of my oh so considerable charm, that they would like nothing more than to tinker around with installing the damn things. I'll write an update on my success someday in the future.
The Golf is singing on its last verse, and quite a bit out of tune at that. The generator is making the most awful noises, like someone torturing a banshee ghost with a wooden spoon, at inopportune moments, usually when we're driving through a resident block late at night... I'm currently taking bets as to how long it will take before a) the generator flips me the bird definitely and the car won't start or b) an enraged mob decides to take matters in their own hands and reduce my little red bullet (or the Cow as it is fondly addressed as) to a pathetic pile of rusting red metal... To be updated if I get away unscathed.
So, that was probably all I had to write now. Now I'm going to return to staring fondly at my new ceiling lamp.
söndag 20 februari 2011
Recycled renewal
First of all, I won't lie to you when I warn you that there might be a slight flavour of bitterness in this post. Just consider yourself duly warned.
I feel like I often stumble upon the word "renewal" when I read employment ads, business descriptions and the likes. The word isn't always spelled out but there nonetheless, in between the lines. It's made me wonder. Being an unemployed journalist I often find myself reflecting over journalism in general, trends within the area and currents conditions on the employment market.
This is just my personal opinion but to me it feels like the word "renewal" has taken on a slightly different meaning than the word should have where journalism is concerned. Considering the difficulties for young, "green" journalists to land a steady job, or being noticed by the more or less institutionalised news desks in the first place, I can't help but feel sad. I've, on more than one occasion, half-jokingly said that journalists are the only ones who never truly retire. It seems to me that the older you are, the more attractive you'll get where media is concerned. I am fully aware that it often comes down to the whole experience and social connections/networking thing. When you're older you're more likely to have more connections to draw on for a story. However, since the young journalists are so seldom given the chance to get into the business to learn they are also inadvertently prohibited from creating those important connections. And in the end the established, "experienced" journalists more or less just does a side-step between the news desks, wildly heralded that they'll bring new ideas to their work place, while the new, fresh journalists stand outside, looking in and hoping against hope that they'd at least get paid for whatever freelance article they've managed to create.
Within established Swedish media "Renewal" seems to, disturbingly enough, have become a new synonym for "recycling". The established journalists are recycled or the news desks just cling on to their aging, "experienced" work force. The thing is, I often happen upon articles brimming with such a sense of blasé weariness, kind of like "Yeah. I wrote about that same thing, just with another company, last year. I can probably use the same style in the text today", it just makes me want to shake my head. There's no sense of urgency, desire for action or interest for new angles. It all just rolls on in a never-ending hamster wheel where the same old texts, wordings and angles are recycled over and over. Where's the "renewal" in that?
Which brings me to another pondering I've had in the dark hours of the night. During my studies in journalism we were once told that journalism was often considered a reflection of reality. And maybe it is although, looking at the articles published on the web or in established, printed media, I get the feeling that reality is more and more being reflected through a tinted glass. Once upon a time journalists were the nightmares haunting the minds of corrupt politicians and corporations all over the world. The journalists could, with one skilfully and timely placed wording, overthrow plans that had taken years to concoct. And the journalists thrived on that. The public knew where to turn in order to find out what was going on behind the polished doors of government buildings and corporate conference rooms. Lately, though, media seems to have been domesticated, tamed. Instead of pushing ahead, digging into archives, protocols and anonymous tips the journalists seem to spend more and more time reporting on the obvious. They seem too afraid (or too tired by the sick workload caused by "potentiating", forcing less people to do more work) of the powers that be, the government, the corporations practically owning the established news media of today, to actually dare to stick their chins out and write about what they're really seeing, or instinctively sensing.
On another note, a reflection can never be reality. I think we all know that already. If you're facing a mirror and raise your left hand, your brain tells you that the hand being raised by the reflection is also a left hand. However, had the reflection been another person instead, that left hand would've in all actuality have been their right hand. In order for it to be a true reflection you would have to stand with your back against the mirror and still somehow be reflected from the front. Otherwise it's merely a case of your brain supplying the answer where the mirror is messing with your perception. So what does this mean? Somehow I can't help but draw parallels to the philosophical tree in the forest. If a tree falls in the forest but no one's there to listen, does it still make a sound? If a mirror is reflecting something but no one is there to see it, or doesn't have the brain to supply the information of that skewed image, is it still reflecting reality?
And with that I'll end this rather fragmented ramble before my brain decides to fool me into thinking I'm seeing things I'm not. I'll leave you with a quote I found in one of the books I've read lately:
I feel like I often stumble upon the word "renewal" when I read employment ads, business descriptions and the likes. The word isn't always spelled out but there nonetheless, in between the lines. It's made me wonder. Being an unemployed journalist I often find myself reflecting over journalism in general, trends within the area and currents conditions on the employment market.
This is just my personal opinion but to me it feels like the word "renewal" has taken on a slightly different meaning than the word should have where journalism is concerned. Considering the difficulties for young, "green" journalists to land a steady job, or being noticed by the more or less institutionalised news desks in the first place, I can't help but feel sad. I've, on more than one occasion, half-jokingly said that journalists are the only ones who never truly retire. It seems to me that the older you are, the more attractive you'll get where media is concerned. I am fully aware that it often comes down to the whole experience and social connections/networking thing. When you're older you're more likely to have more connections to draw on for a story. However, since the young journalists are so seldom given the chance to get into the business to learn they are also inadvertently prohibited from creating those important connections. And in the end the established, "experienced" journalists more or less just does a side-step between the news desks, wildly heralded that they'll bring new ideas to their work place, while the new, fresh journalists stand outside, looking in and hoping against hope that they'd at least get paid for whatever freelance article they've managed to create.
Within established Swedish media "Renewal" seems to, disturbingly enough, have become a new synonym for "recycling". The established journalists are recycled or the news desks just cling on to their aging, "experienced" work force. The thing is, I often happen upon articles brimming with such a sense of blasé weariness, kind of like "Yeah. I wrote about that same thing, just with another company, last year. I can probably use the same style in the text today", it just makes me want to shake my head. There's no sense of urgency, desire for action or interest for new angles. It all just rolls on in a never-ending hamster wheel where the same old texts, wordings and angles are recycled over and over. Where's the "renewal" in that?
Which brings me to another pondering I've had in the dark hours of the night. During my studies in journalism we were once told that journalism was often considered a reflection of reality. And maybe it is although, looking at the articles published on the web or in established, printed media, I get the feeling that reality is more and more being reflected through a tinted glass. Once upon a time journalists were the nightmares haunting the minds of corrupt politicians and corporations all over the world. The journalists could, with one skilfully and timely placed wording, overthrow plans that had taken years to concoct. And the journalists thrived on that. The public knew where to turn in order to find out what was going on behind the polished doors of government buildings and corporate conference rooms. Lately, though, media seems to have been domesticated, tamed. Instead of pushing ahead, digging into archives, protocols and anonymous tips the journalists seem to spend more and more time reporting on the obvious. They seem too afraid (or too tired by the sick workload caused by "potentiating", forcing less people to do more work) of the powers that be, the government, the corporations practically owning the established news media of today, to actually dare to stick their chins out and write about what they're really seeing, or instinctively sensing.
On another note, a reflection can never be reality. I think we all know that already. If you're facing a mirror and raise your left hand, your brain tells you that the hand being raised by the reflection is also a left hand. However, had the reflection been another person instead, that left hand would've in all actuality have been their right hand. In order for it to be a true reflection you would have to stand with your back against the mirror and still somehow be reflected from the front. Otherwise it's merely a case of your brain supplying the answer where the mirror is messing with your perception. So what does this mean? Somehow I can't help but draw parallels to the philosophical tree in the forest. If a tree falls in the forest but no one's there to listen, does it still make a sound? If a mirror is reflecting something but no one is there to see it, or doesn't have the brain to supply the information of that skewed image, is it still reflecting reality?
And with that I'll end this rather fragmented ramble before my brain decides to fool me into thinking I'm seeing things I'm not. I'll leave you with a quote I found in one of the books I've read lately:
"[...]Even the clearest mirror reverses right to left" - from the book The Door Into Fire by author Diane Duane
söndag 23 maj 2010
Procrastination at its best
...or worst, depending on how you see it.
I had planned to grab myself by the scruff and finish up my thesis this weekend, only two months too late. But, oh wonder above wonders..., I've yet to even open the damn document. I really need to get it done before the start of June since otherwise I'll have to wait a whole year before I can submit it. But writer's blocks are vicious things. Worse than Lord Voldemort, the whole Twilight-series (books also counted) and a three week hangover. I'll pull some all-nighters this week to get it done. I might not have a lightning-shaped scar and ugly glasses like Harry Potter, but I sure as hell have got painkillers, lighting fluid and a lighter. SO I'll vanquish two out of three bad things and finish up my thesis in a heroic and astounding last minute rescue while the world I saved will be cheering for me from afar (most likely afraid to come too close due to my progressive insanity, but hey, all admiration is good).
On a more positive, and less world domination-like, note: We're making good progress on our graduation project. Now all we have to do is hunt down some politicians, finish up one illustration and two headlines and we're good to go. It's been quite an interesting piece of work filled with some rather uncomfortable and shocking revelations about an environment many people believe is the epitome of peace and quiet. Even I didn't know it could get this bad... And I'm a natural-born cynic/realist who thinks this world is full of shit most of the time.
Lately, I've also come to the realisation that journalists has got to be the most ego-tripping people out there. Last week I filled in for a journalist at the news desk I'm going to work at this summer. It was such a high to see my texts, with byline and all, in the newspaper. And when my last article for that week actually made poster news... *speechless and jumping up and down* I had to go into the kiosk and ask them if they would give me that news poster. They did, those wonderful people, so now I'm gonna put that poster up on my wall. It's my very first one, after all!
I had planned to grab myself by the scruff and finish up my thesis this weekend, only two months too late. But, oh wonder above wonders..., I've yet to even open the damn document. I really need to get it done before the start of June since otherwise I'll have to wait a whole year before I can submit it. But writer's blocks are vicious things. Worse than Lord Voldemort, the whole Twilight-series (books also counted) and a three week hangover. I'll pull some all-nighters this week to get it done. I might not have a lightning-shaped scar and ugly glasses like Harry Potter, but I sure as hell have got painkillers, lighting fluid and a lighter. SO I'll vanquish two out of three bad things and finish up my thesis in a heroic and astounding last minute rescue while the world I saved will be cheering for me from afar (most likely afraid to come too close due to my progressive insanity, but hey, all admiration is good).
On a more positive, and less world domination-like, note: We're making good progress on our graduation project. Now all we have to do is hunt down some politicians, finish up one illustration and two headlines and we're good to go. It's been quite an interesting piece of work filled with some rather uncomfortable and shocking revelations about an environment many people believe is the epitome of peace and quiet. Even I didn't know it could get this bad... And I'm a natural-born cynic/realist who thinks this world is full of shit most of the time.
Lately, I've also come to the realisation that journalists has got to be the most ego-tripping people out there. Last week I filled in for a journalist at the news desk I'm going to work at this summer. It was such a high to see my texts, with byline and all, in the newspaper. And when my last article for that week actually made poster news... *speechless and jumping up and down* I had to go into the kiosk and ask them if they would give me that news poster. They did, those wonderful people, so now I'm gonna put that poster up on my wall. It's my very first one, after all!
tisdag 16 mars 2010
Where is journalism headed?
I've finally finished coding the articles for my thesis. Only x amount of weeks too late (the deadline for the thesis as a whole is on Thursday).
I had some very annoying and frustrating revelations while doing this. A part of the articles for my thesis are supposed to come from the web versions of two Swedish newspapers. So far so good.
The problem is that while one of them are good at archiving their old articles, the other seems to be happily deleting old articles and leaving only those that make them look good. Not to mention the fact that articles on the web (as opposed to those that go into print) can be edited and changed well after their newsworthiness has disappeared.
Which means that for me, who are looking for problems with language and grammar, the results of my coding of those articles are haphazard at best.
I happen to know that the latter of the two newspapers is in fact quite lousy where language and grammar is concerned... to the point that I've, on several occasions while reading articles their reporters have written, found myself with an almost desperately urgent need to track down the reporters, grab them by the hair and stuff some grammar books and books on proper writing (and spelling) into various orifices of their body. I'm sure they've had a field day going back and correcting stuff that most likely looked like shit in the original version.
Indeed, the development of web publishing has got to be their greatest joy ever, since then they can gloss over their horrid mistakes and the readers, unless they've been smart and taken screen shots of the original version, will be none the wiser. Oh joy, a way for the media to pretend they're above such menial faults such as bad spelling or lack of facts. After all, if the original text isn't there, or has been exchanged for a corrected version..., no one can call them on their mistakes and they can carry on befouling (yeah, sorry for using such a word) the language, which is already fighting for its every breath.
It makes me wonder why on earth it's so hard for us fresh journalists (and journalism students) to get a foot into the media. Are they happier keeping blasé oldies just because they seem to have "experience" (which, by the way, is quite a loose word nowadays concerning the speed of the changes in the world) instead of bringing in fresh blood?
What does it say for a newspaper's reputation that they rather keep reporters that are illiterate, or seriously won't give a shit about how the readers see their articles, than take in fresh ones with new points of views and energy?
It makes me so frustrated. And all the while this particular newspaper I'm thinking of claims to have one of the best web-editions in Sweden, of being in the forefront of web journalism. They conveniently choose to disregard the fact that their archive system is a mess, which makes it nearly impossible to actually find anything, or that the knowledge of proper spelling and grammar among their journalists could easily be breached by a grade school kid.
I could go on for hours about this, although hopefully with a bit more... detail and language variation, but my head is about to blow up due to annoyance, stress and sheer resignation.
Where is the world headed when people in the media who, at least in my opinion, should set a certain standard where writing and language is concerned, set such bad examples? It's like they're callously saying: "Well, the world's a bitch anyway, and you morons wouldn't know what was right or wrong even if we spelled it out for you, so fuck off!"
I had some very annoying and frustrating revelations while doing this. A part of the articles for my thesis are supposed to come from the web versions of two Swedish newspapers. So far so good.
The problem is that while one of them are good at archiving their old articles, the other seems to be happily deleting old articles and leaving only those that make them look good. Not to mention the fact that articles on the web (as opposed to those that go into print) can be edited and changed well after their newsworthiness has disappeared.
Which means that for me, who are looking for problems with language and grammar, the results of my coding of those articles are haphazard at best.
I happen to know that the latter of the two newspapers is in fact quite lousy where language and grammar is concerned... to the point that I've, on several occasions while reading articles their reporters have written, found myself with an almost desperately urgent need to track down the reporters, grab them by the hair and stuff some grammar books and books on proper writing (and spelling) into various orifices of their body. I'm sure they've had a field day going back and correcting stuff that most likely looked like shit in the original version.
Indeed, the development of web publishing has got to be their greatest joy ever, since then they can gloss over their horrid mistakes and the readers, unless they've been smart and taken screen shots of the original version, will be none the wiser. Oh joy, a way for the media to pretend they're above such menial faults such as bad spelling or lack of facts. After all, if the original text isn't there, or has been exchanged for a corrected version..., no one can call them on their mistakes and they can carry on befouling (yeah, sorry for using such a word) the language, which is already fighting for its every breath.
It makes me wonder why on earth it's so hard for us fresh journalists (and journalism students) to get a foot into the media. Are they happier keeping blasé oldies just because they seem to have "experience" (which, by the way, is quite a loose word nowadays concerning the speed of the changes in the world) instead of bringing in fresh blood?
What does it say for a newspaper's reputation that they rather keep reporters that are illiterate, or seriously won't give a shit about how the readers see their articles, than take in fresh ones with new points of views and energy?
It makes me so frustrated. And all the while this particular newspaper I'm thinking of claims to have one of the best web-editions in Sweden, of being in the forefront of web journalism. They conveniently choose to disregard the fact that their archive system is a mess, which makes it nearly impossible to actually find anything, or that the knowledge of proper spelling and grammar among their journalists could easily be breached by a grade school kid.
I could go on for hours about this, although hopefully with a bit more... detail and language variation, but my head is about to blow up due to annoyance, stress and sheer resignation.
Where is the world headed when people in the media who, at least in my opinion, should set a certain standard where writing and language is concerned, set such bad examples? It's like they're callously saying: "Well, the world's a bitch anyway, and you morons wouldn't know what was right or wrong even if we spelled it out for you, so fuck off!"
fredag 19 februari 2010
Another day of doing nothing useful
Let me just begin with commenting on the sensational fact that my neighbour doesn't seem to have had a party tonight. So I can leisurely listen to some nice Barry McGuire, T-rex and so on (the good music in my opinion... as opposed to the noise from next door that usually accompanies my Friday nights) while doing everything but what I should be doing.
I've mostly spent my day re-reading some manga (for those unfamiliar with this word it can, although not completely accurately, be described as Japanese comics). Now, the fact is that this is probably the umpteenth time I'm re-reading these particular series. However, I smoothly explain it with it being me "organising" them... in a nifty little list. All to make it easier for me to find them again for the next time I find a good reason to explain away my method of procrastinating through re-reading of course.
As most people have probably noticed (and probably a lot sooner than I did) it's the Olympics right now. I'm not much for watching sports. I used to be back in the days before the Swedish Hockey team started to disappoint me at every turn. Nowadays I'm too cynical, always waiting for them to screw up at the last minute, to actually give a damn about the individual matches. So I just check the results when they're out and shrug my shoulder. Or there's also the comfortable option of having friends who watch sports and willingly share the results...
For example, I got a nice summary of some of the highlights (and low-lights) in today's competitions, with focus on the Swedish competitors, from one of my friends and classmates. He's posted some nice comments on today's hockey game between Sweden and Belarus, among other things, on his blog for example.
Those of you who can read Swedish, I recommend you to check his blog out: http://www.marjon.st/
And now, let's leave sports for a while (it only reminds me of the fact that I should visit the gym but probably won't). This same friend brought back to memory the ordeal we had to go through last year around this time.
I'm studying journalism. And it's more or less tradition that the freshmen of journalism at our university put together a magazine of sorts, called Inkognito. It's funded by the student association of our faculty but we, the students, are more or less given free rein as to the content and layout of the magazine. However, last year (our year) the association decided they wanted a bit more say in it. So half of the magazine contained interviews and articles connected to the university and our student association. While the other half went black... As in black as a theme.
It was wicked fun to plan for it, but also incredibly stressful since we did it parallel with our regular studies. I got to write about Film Noir, an era within the movie business that's always interested me. But the best, and I guess the worst, part of making that magazine was the last few weeks before it was off to the printer's. It was me, doing layout and cursing over the proofreading, and two others, the chief editors, sitting there trying to do layout and put all the articles together into a nice-looking magazine. And the program we used froze every other minute or so throughout the layout and editing process. I'm just incredibly grateful that the ones I was working with were so great. Because otherwise I probably would've broken down into a nervous wreck. Thanks to trouble with the settings in our editing program we had to re-do the final copy two or three times to make it printable. I still vividly remember the message I got from one of the others after he had gone to the printers for the third time.
"It's done!" was all the message said (in Swedish though) and to me those few words felt like the same sort of miracle as some might view Moses parting the Red Sea in the Bible. It was like cutting a tightly wound rope that'd been pulling at my neck.
And yet, looking back at it right now (and yes, wishing we'd had more time to go over the proof-reading, grammar and text layout) it was, despite the stress and horror and frustration, probably one of the most fun things I've ever done. And the fact that I got free hands to design the front page of the magazine... Amazing! It was such fun and it really awakened my interest in graphic design and image editing.
In the end... It was a good experience and, considering how little time we had and all the problems we encountered, I think it still turned out quite well. It helped me get closer to a realisation of what I might want to do in the future.
So, bottom line(and link I guess): GO INKOGNITO! (Do respect the copyright, please)
(It's entirely in Swedish unfortunately. But for those who don't know Swedish... The frontpage I designed is nice to look at =D )
I've mostly spent my day re-reading some manga (for those unfamiliar with this word it can, although not completely accurately, be described as Japanese comics). Now, the fact is that this is probably the umpteenth time I'm re-reading these particular series. However, I smoothly explain it with it being me "organising" them... in a nifty little list. All to make it easier for me to find them again for the next time I find a good reason to explain away my method of procrastinating through re-reading of course.
As most people have probably noticed (and probably a lot sooner than I did) it's the Olympics right now. I'm not much for watching sports. I used to be back in the days before the Swedish Hockey team started to disappoint me at every turn. Nowadays I'm too cynical, always waiting for them to screw up at the last minute, to actually give a damn about the individual matches. So I just check the results when they're out and shrug my shoulder. Or there's also the comfortable option of having friends who watch sports and willingly share the results...
For example, I got a nice summary of some of the highlights (and low-lights) in today's competitions, with focus on the Swedish competitors, from one of my friends and classmates. He's posted some nice comments on today's hockey game between Sweden and Belarus, among other things, on his blog for example.
Those of you who can read Swedish, I recommend you to check his blog out: http://www.marjon.st/
And now, let's leave sports for a while (it only reminds me of the fact that I should visit the gym but probably won't). This same friend brought back to memory the ordeal we had to go through last year around this time.
I'm studying journalism. And it's more or less tradition that the freshmen of journalism at our university put together a magazine of sorts, called Inkognito. It's funded by the student association of our faculty but we, the students, are more or less given free rein as to the content and layout of the magazine. However, last year (our year) the association decided they wanted a bit more say in it. So half of the magazine contained interviews and articles connected to the university and our student association. While the other half went black... As in black as a theme.
It was wicked fun to plan for it, but also incredibly stressful since we did it parallel with our regular studies. I got to write about Film Noir, an era within the movie business that's always interested me. But the best, and I guess the worst, part of making that magazine was the last few weeks before it was off to the printer's. It was me, doing layout and cursing over the proofreading, and two others, the chief editors, sitting there trying to do layout and put all the articles together into a nice-looking magazine. And the program we used froze every other minute or so throughout the layout and editing process. I'm just incredibly grateful that the ones I was working with were so great. Because otherwise I probably would've broken down into a nervous wreck. Thanks to trouble with the settings in our editing program we had to re-do the final copy two or three times to make it printable. I still vividly remember the message I got from one of the others after he had gone to the printers for the third time.
"It's done!" was all the message said (in Swedish though) and to me those few words felt like the same sort of miracle as some might view Moses parting the Red Sea in the Bible. It was like cutting a tightly wound rope that'd been pulling at my neck.
And yet, looking back at it right now (and yes, wishing we'd had more time to go over the proof-reading, grammar and text layout) it was, despite the stress and horror and frustration, probably one of the most fun things I've ever done. And the fact that I got free hands to design the front page of the magazine... Amazing! It was such fun and it really awakened my interest in graphic design and image editing.
In the end... It was a good experience and, considering how little time we had and all the problems we encountered, I think it still turned out quite well. It helped me get closer to a realisation of what I might want to do in the future.
So, bottom line(and link I guess): GO INKOGNITO! (Do respect the copyright, please)
(It's entirely in Swedish unfortunately. But for those who don't know Swedish... The frontpage I designed is nice to look at =D )
lördag 6 februari 2010
Dreams
It's coming close to the time when I have to face the world head on. I'm on my last semester at the university and after that it's all a blank slate.
To me it seems that journalists are about the only working category that never retires. Rather it's more like the older you get the more interesting you become, since you have experience, you're an "old fox" of journalism. Which kind of puts us young ones in the cold. I read somewhere that here in Sweden there are way more students of journalism graduating from their studies than the various sources of media (newspapers, TV, radio and so on) can ever employ. Somehow that's a rather sobering thought.
Don't get me wrong, I don't regret even for one moment that I chose to study journalism. Writing is what I like to do and what I hope I'm good at, but it's still scary to not know where my future will take me. When I started my studies in cultural journalism our teachers made sure to point out that we had to expect to do only freelance work for at least three years after graduating. And then comes the thought: "What if I can't do it? What if I simply can't manage to claw my way in as a freelance writer? What if my writing's not good enough, my senses and instincts too weak?". But at the same time I know those are the things I cannot think about. It won't do me any good to stress out over it. Rather it's like that NIKE-commercial: "Just do it!".
Either way, all of this has made me really think about dreams. What do I really want to do with my life? What do I wish to make of myself and how should I go about it?
And I've come to a few, albeit rather frustrating, realisations.
Firstly, I'm not even sure I want to work with cultural journalism. I much prefer the variation of regular news journalism. Secondly, I feel myself leaning more and more towards more graphically challenging areas, like editor, art director or even within marketing. And lastly, I want to travel abroad. I don't want to remain here in Sweden for the rest of my life. But... if it's hard finding work for a Swedish Journalism student here in Sweden I can only imagine what it would be like to try and wrestle myself into the media of other countries.
It's a tough world out there and though it is a good thing to have dreams, sometimes it's just frustrating the hell out of me not knowing when or if I can ever realise even a part of those dreams.
To me it seems that journalists are about the only working category that never retires. Rather it's more like the older you get the more interesting you become, since you have experience, you're an "old fox" of journalism. Which kind of puts us young ones in the cold. I read somewhere that here in Sweden there are way more students of journalism graduating from their studies than the various sources of media (newspapers, TV, radio and so on) can ever employ. Somehow that's a rather sobering thought.
Don't get me wrong, I don't regret even for one moment that I chose to study journalism. Writing is what I like to do and what I hope I'm good at, but it's still scary to not know where my future will take me. When I started my studies in cultural journalism our teachers made sure to point out that we had to expect to do only freelance work for at least three years after graduating. And then comes the thought: "What if I can't do it? What if I simply can't manage to claw my way in as a freelance writer? What if my writing's not good enough, my senses and instincts too weak?". But at the same time I know those are the things I cannot think about. It won't do me any good to stress out over it. Rather it's like that NIKE-commercial: "Just do it!".
Either way, all of this has made me really think about dreams. What do I really want to do with my life? What do I wish to make of myself and how should I go about it?
And I've come to a few, albeit rather frustrating, realisations.
Firstly, I'm not even sure I want to work with cultural journalism. I much prefer the variation of regular news journalism. Secondly, I feel myself leaning more and more towards more graphically challenging areas, like editor, art director or even within marketing. And lastly, I want to travel abroad. I don't want to remain here in Sweden for the rest of my life. But... if it's hard finding work for a Swedish Journalism student here in Sweden I can only imagine what it would be like to try and wrestle myself into the media of other countries.
It's a tough world out there and though it is a good thing to have dreams, sometimes it's just frustrating the hell out of me not knowing when or if I can ever realise even a part of those dreams.
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