We both have a strange fascination with a particular species of journalist noted for its ceaseless caterwauling about the damned dirty bloggers.
Some guy named Mulshine, who is apparently an ancient journalist (remember: generation is mindset, not age), penned one of those idiotic pieces for Wall Street Journal, willingly exposing his out-datedness and blindness to the world - read it yourself and chuckle: All I Wanted for Christmas Was a Newspaper.An example of Mulshine's keen insight:
Anyone can duplicate a long and tedious report. And anyone can highlight one passage from that report and either praise or denounce it. But it takes both talent and willpower to analyze the report in its entirety and put it in a context comprehensible to the casual reader.Really? It makes one wonder if reporters are bathed in magical waters when they first enter the great shrines of soothsaying such as the East Greater Bumpkinville Daily Register Picayune Observer. How is it possible we the unwashed can't see the obvious truth that we do not have the special talents required to keep subjects and predicates straight, much less string many of them together to form something comprehensible!
Frank Wilson nails the black of the target Mulshine doesn't even know exists.
Actually, the people in a given school district are likely to be very interested in and willing to sit through such meetings and read such reports very carefully, since they are interested parties, more interested, apparently, than a cub reporter trying to keep himself awake during the proceedings "by employing trance-inducing techniques"What makes Mulshine's argument more comical is his world is surely divesting itself of the local coverage he holds so holy while those he castigates are not only taking up the slack but doing it well.
In nature, niches are filled. Species adapt or die. It's tooth and claw time. The peddlers of the written word can either wail in the wallow of the tar pits with the Mulshines or keep moving towards the next horizon.