Maybe Ignorance Is Bliss

Thursday, June 10, 2010 3 comments
There are a lot of things to complain about with Glee. The music is great, but the plots can be sloppy bordering on offensive. 

I seem to be more or less on my own in my level of discomfort in the blackmail plot with Sue and the principal, but catching a Shakespeare reference in the season finale of Glee did not help much:
"One last chit, Figgy, give the glee club another year, and I won't mention us making the beast with two backs again."
I'm willing to bet that the writers did not know that "the beast with two backs" is from Othello. But I did; I am obsessed with Othello.  My thesis for my BA was titled "'All That Is Spoke Is Marred' – The Transformation of Othello As Seen Through Speech."

So, I knew that "a beast with two backs" is part of a list of racially-charged animal metaphors that Iago uses to describe Desdemona sleeping with Othello. And when I heard it here, in describing what the creators of Glee clearly see as a race as well as infidelity issue, I cringed a little. (Emphasis mine).

IAGO
'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd; for shame, put on
your gown;
Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul;
Even now, now, very now, an old black ram
Is topping your white ewe.
Arise, arise;
Awake the snorting citizens with the bell,
Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you:
Arise, I say....

BRABANTIO
What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is Venice;
My house is not a grange....

IAGO
'Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not
serve God, if the devil bid you. Because we come to
do you service and you think we are ruffians, you'll
have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse;

you'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll have
coursers for cousins and gennets for germans.

BRABANTIO
What profane wretch art thou?

IAGO
I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter
and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.
It should be noted that this dialogue also produces an exchange that should be printed on DC Shakespeare shirts:

BRABANTIO
Thou art a villain.

IAGO
You are--a senator.
In general, I'd rather curl up with an old school book or newspaper than read long texts on a computer or other gadget. But I'm not a luddite; I know that technology has to be the savior of my beloved newspaper, and to a lesser extent books.

So--even though I still don't really understand the iPad--I read Gizmodo's review of Popular Mechanics' iPad edition with real interest.

Gizmodo was less than impressed with Wired's attempt, basically noting that it just looked like a printed magazine on a screen with some extra special effects. I had a hard time figuring out what exactly one would expect to see in an iPad magazine that brought something totally new to the table.

But when I read these lines in the Popular Mechanics review, I  began to understand.

Second, and key to keeping the app feeling alive and relevant, it pulls in new info, so the app doesn't become a fossil once you're done with the issue. The mini-app-within-an-app—a living infographic, if you will—that they demoed for me charted seismological data in the US, not only historically, but also using the most recent 7 days of earthquake data from the USGS. Which is really savvy—the mag retains value after you're done reading the issue.

The iPad version, which Gizmodo is quick to note is still "incrementally reformatting the magazine, instead of reinventing it" does acknowledge the strange thing about print publications: they are out of date before they hit the stands. Electronic versions of magazines never have to be out of date.

Stating it like that seems overly obvious and incredible old news. News online is always more up-to-date than news in print. That's part of the problem, and people have been talking about that for years. But magazines have a particularly hard time of it because they go to print so early.

It was particularly obvious in the wake of the  September 11 attacks, when newspapers and magazines apologized for having to distribute content written for a September 10 kind of reality. (Below are the Sept. 17 and Sept 24 issues of the New Yorker as an illustration of that lag).

I'm A Confused Mac

Wednesday, May 5, 2010 0 comments
I think I should be the target audience for the iPad. Stereotypes aside, I'm a pretty devoted Apple products user, I consume a lot of news and media, and I spend a lot of time on the Internet. But, when Steve Jobs said the iPad would fill the void between the laptop computer and the smart phone, I was confused. I could not figure out what that void was.

A week or so after the iPad was released, I spent the day walking around an unseasonably warm D.C. carrying my laptop in my backpack. The weight of my Macbook combined with my (admittedly irrational) dislike and distrust of all things windows operated made me wish for an iPad and keyboard dock, but i quickly realized that what I was actually wishing for was a Mac netbook or an affordable Macbook Air.

Which brought me back to square one: what exactly is the point of an iPad? I find myself staring at people using them to see if the answer will reveal itself. I'm not the only one; the first time I saw someone on the metro using an iPad  (middle-aged man playing sudoku) I was one of three or four people jostling to sit near him so we could see it "in real life."

So after not so subtly spying on people using it and playing with one for a little bit in Best Buy, these are my conclusions.

  • It would probably be great for old people. I actually am not sure how intuitive it is; though the lack of multitasking and the touch screen makes it more intuitive than an actual computer, a lot of what we do with a touch screen actually mimics how we use a computer mouse. It's not actually intuitive to run your finger down the screen to see more text. We just think it is because we scroll with a mouse. Still it's simpler than a lot of computers, and ebooks could drastically increase the number of large print books available.
  • If it had a usb port, if the iWork suite is really compatible with Microsoft Office, and if the keyboard dock is super portable, it might make a super pretty netbook. That's a lot of ifs.
  • It's good for reading books you are embarrassed to read in public. Secretly dying to read the latest Dan Brown? Curious about Twilight? Interested in advice contained in a self help book with a hokey title? Erotica (will Apple's book store sell erotica?) Stick it on the iPad and no one will be the wiser. Of course, this is true of all e-readers, and there is always the significantly cheaper option of making book covers out of newspaper (though this may be the book equivalent of drinking out of a paper bag).
Old people, not-quite-sensible netbook users, snobby readers: somehow, I don't think that was the void between smart phones and laptops Jobs was talking about.
This morning I sat eating cereal while flipping through a Bed Bath And Beyond catalog. Other than the guilt brought about by being too lazy to retrieve my newspaper and the fact that catalogs are boring reading, everything was going well. Until I saw this:



That's a bedding set named "Othello."

Do you know what happens in beds in Othello? People are MURDERED! According to many stagings of Othello, Othello murders Desdemona using a pillow. Emilia is laid out next to the dead Desdemona on the bed after she stabbed by Iago, and she dies in the bed. And, Othello stabs himself, kisses Desdemona and then also dies on the bed. In fact, the very last lines of the play, spoken by Lodovico to Iago, start as such:
O Spartan Dog,
More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea!
Look on the tragic loading of this bed.
This is thy work
Let it be hid. Gratiano, keep the house.
[The bed curtains are drawn]

That's right. The tragic loading of this bed. In fact, the text seems to imply that Othello and Desdemona, who started the play deeply in love with one another, never consummated their marriage. So, that means that the only thing they did together on the bed was die.

Remind me again why you would want a bedding set named for this play?

A Thought

Wednesday, October 21, 2009 0 comments
The words for "I" and "I am not" are the same in Hebrew. Exactly the same letters, just different vowels, and most people don't write the vowels anyway. Both words can be spelled "אני".

A homograph is a word that looks the same as another word but has a different meaning. My favorite is wind and wind or windy and windy. How did those two things come to be spelled the same way? When left to your own devices, with no context, does the word "windy" automatically mean blustery or twisted? How about wind? Left! That's another one!

A capitonym is a word whose meaning changes depending on whether or not it is capitalized. Like Polish or polish or like Pole and pole. What is is with the Polish that their descriptive words are also random other words in English?

There is no point to this other than that sometimes language blows my mind.

Hey! Look! We're Trend-Setters!

Thursday, August 13, 2009 0 comments
My youngest sister is a cool kid. In the Malcom Gladwell sense. In other words, she's often one step ahead of the curve. Sure, there are a lot of things that she does that are conformist--she's an 18 year-old suburban kid going to NYU; she's bound to be conformist--but she's the kind of person who will get people to do whatever she says. Her friends don't think she's that funny, but just wait, in a few years they'll all be making hyperbolic sarcastic comments, and she'll be on to bigger, better things.

When she was in fifth grade, she decided to teach flying lessons. Knowing that she couldn't actually teach people to fly, she came up with what was basically a form of dance that focused on arm movements. Within weeks, there were 30 kids out of 60 in her grade taking flying lessons. There was a system of tests and levels and teaching certification. There was the Flyers Weekly Flier. Then a few months later, too many people wanted to take the flying teacher certification test, and there were not going to be enough students. So my sister resigned as head of Flying School, and said "if they want to continue, that's fine." And that was the end of that.

Anyway, the point is, that I am not the cool one in my family. Not by any stretch of the imagination. I'm the kid who had two posters in her room in high school: one of Leonardo daVinici and one of fractals.
Case in point I sent this West Wing e-mail to a friend

Subject line: I think the transcript speaks for itself
Body: DANNY So I'm home. By myself. Listening to my police scanner. C.J You have a police scanner? DANNY Yes, I do. C.J. Danny, you were like, President of your high school audio-visual club, weren't you? DANNY: I was, in fact, not President of the AV Club. I was vice-President. Bobby Pfeiffer was President, and that's something I don't like to talk about. C.J. : Why'd you come down? DANNY : Josh said to come by for a drink. C.J. You should have gotten here earlier. DANNY: I would have, except I was home listening to my police scanner.
In his e-mail, my friend replied: “... but did he get laid that night?”
Or, another West Wing quote comes to mind:
JOSH: I wasn’t much into squash. I was more of a Crimson guy. DONNA: Crimson? JOSH: The campus newspaper. RYAN: Yeah, that figures. JOSH: What’s that supposed to mean? RYAN: Nothing. That’s great. JOSH: Are you implying that I didn’t have a social life?
So yeah, my friends and I, were like Danny and Josh, only not in charge of covering or running the White House. We're the kids who quote West Wing.
So, I laughed a lot when I read these sentences in the book I'm currently reading: SuperMedia: Saving Journalism So It Can Save The World.

"Or they [websites] serve an informed, elite group, such as the stylish well-informed US political magazine Slate.com, which targets political obsessives."
And then: "In the US it's now a measure of your "cool" factor as a young urbanite not just to say "Did you see Jon Stewart last night?" but also to say "I was listening to the podcast of Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me from NPR this weekend." This may be small elite in the US, albeit a trend-setting group of opinion-formers."
My mind is blown. How did we become "a trend-setting group of opinion-formers?"

"Other"

Friday, July 24, 2009 0 comments
I'm a big fan of the New York Times. (" I confess, I lust after the Sunday Times," I once whispered to a friend, after spending six dollars on a newspaper. "Yeah, so do I," he said.)

I also like NYTimes.com, and since I get the Washington Post in print, I now usually read the Times on line, and buying it is a pleasure reserved for days when I need a boost, or when the front page is irresistible (as it was today, actually.) Anyway, being a fan of NYTimes.com, I agreed to fill out the Nielsen survey when it popped up on my screen, something I would normally just ignore (which leads me to wonder how helpful surveys like that are, if only loyal readers fill them out).

All was going well -- sections? I read a majority of them. Blogs? I read a lot of them How often? Seven days a week-- until I got to the part where they ask you to fill out things about yourself.

Behold:


Which of the following best describes the type of business, industry, or profession in which you work?

Click one.





Accounting


Advertising/Marketing/Public Relations


Agriculture/Farming


Architecture/Interior Design


Arts/Entertainment/Broadcasting/Publishing


Automotive/Aerospace


Computer - Hardware/IT


Computer - Software/Programming


Construction/Labor/Trades Industry


Engineering/R&D


Fashion/Design/Modeling


Finance/Banking/Investment Services


Food Service/Lodging


Healthcare/Medical


Human Resources


Insurance


Law/Legal


Manufacturing/Operations


Non-Profit (not including Religion)


Pharmaceutical/Biotechnology


Raw Materials (Oil, Gas, Mining, Lumber, etc.)


Real Estate Industry


Religion/Ministry


Retail/Wholesale


Social Services


Sports/Recreation


Telecommunications Industry


Transportation/Warehousing


Travel/Tourism


Utilities


Other


That's right: 30 choices, and I had to choose "Other." Am I "Arts/Entertainment/ Broadcasting/Publishing"? I don't think so, and I'm not "Telecommunications Industry" either. This happens a lot on surveys, but it bothered me because I'm reading the NEW YORK TIMES and there is no place for print journalists. Sigh.

"Deeply Odd and Unusual People"

Wednesday, February 25, 2009 0 comments
My sister was forwarded a bizarre e-mail the other day. For the sake of everyone's privacy, I will not go into any of the details, but will recount the conversation a friend and I had after reading the e-mail.

Some background: th
is girl and I have been friends since ninth grade, when we first bonded after being accidentally locked in our history classroom and then later bonded over our shared love of writing and all things literature. She is a poet. She is, in fact, the poet who featured relatively heavily in my own high school and early college writing, as someone who I admired for her talent in poetry and her ability to see poems in the mundane.

I have edited for length, some typos, and identifying detail (blogger currently hates me. I will fix the font size issues when I can).

Friend: oh my. I love this life. So many odd little things

me: my mind is kind of blown

Friend: by this email?

me: well, not the e-mail itself, so much as the character behind the e-mail [the person who wrote the e-mail]

Friend: it's soooo odd

Friend: well, it's the last paragraph that's so odd. I mean, it really is a sort of "literary" undoing of a person, in my sick imagination where everything = material,

like, it could be a Nathan Englander story or something

me: hahah I was totally thinking the same thing

Friend: that makes us deeply odd and unusual people, by the way

me: don't think I have not already visualized her apartment

Friend: or what kind of computer she wrote the email on

me: a desktop PC. obviously

Friend: yeah. one of the tan ones

me: ok. I have a plan. Given the information that we have, we should each write something and send it to the other. You can use the info however you want, and change whatever facts you need.

me: we can each choose the genre

Friend: ok. OK, you realize that you have a huge advantage given the fact that you know her [the writer of the e-mail] and I don't

me: you can make up whatever you want


The Nerds of Generation Y

Monday, August 4, 2008 1 comments
Friend's g-chat away message: "The 'make the copy desk do it' mind-set seems to be outliving the concept of actually having a copy desk."

Me: What is your away message from?

Seriously dorky and lovable friend:
Bill Walsh's twitter account. Yes, he has twitter.

Me: Aaand, you follow it.

Seriously dorky and lovable friend (who is a copy editor): Noooooo. I just found out he had one when I looked at his blog and went on to it I will NOT follow a twitter account.

Me: Uh huh. The lady doth protest too much.

Dorky, lovable copy editor friend: :-P

UPDATE: Yeah, I put the wrong letter in the headline. Twitter is Y, not X. Oops.

Dangerous Balancing Act

Monday, July 21, 2008 0 comments
"Except that they sometimes ride the same elevators, the reporters and editors of the news report work in a different orbit from those who write opinion." -- Bill Keller


Here is a turn-of-phrase coined by a copy editor friend, that I liked so much, I decided it warrants its own post:

Death-defying Lede: A lede in which the reporter comes precariously close to falling off of the Chinese Wall and into the swamp of opinion.

I was going to link to a wikipedia article defining Chinese Wall, but interestingly enough, in the journalism section of the entry it only offers: "The term is also used in journalism to describe the separation between the editorial and advertising arms of a media firm," whereas I was introduced to the term as a way of indicating the separation between opinion and news, which is clearly how I was using it above.

Clearly the adjective "death-defying" could also sometimes be used to describe full articles or news columns as well.

(Interestingly, though the article linked above (and again right here) ran as a front page story about day care at Google, it is archived as a business column, which would have slightly different rules. I do not, however, remember the very long article being labeled as a column in the hard copy of the paper itself.)

Yes, that's an image stolen from Disney via a Web site with a ton of Lion King pictures. I also recognize that Mufasa is pushed Simba is forced to the cliff by Scar (I forgot that Simba, too, ends up hanging from a cliff), and that it's not a perfect analogy, but actually with Simba, who survives, it's a slightly better, or at least more hopeful analogy, implying that their is still hope of the reporter righting himself.

Pavlov's Reporters

Thursday, June 5, 2008 0 comments
A friend was once walking with a large group of his co-editors in the middle of the night. A fire engine drove past, sirens on, and he left his group to walk in the opposite direction to follow the sirens.

I was sitting with a good friend in a diner drinking sodas when the radios of the cops sitting behind us started crackling. We stopped talking mid-sentence to try and hear what they were saying.

Another friend once picked up my phone call and said, before anything else, "I hear the sirens. Where are you?"

I was getting coffee with a friend visiting D.C. when another friend pulled up. "There are police cars all around the Australian Embassy. Want to go?" Of course we did. We got in the car.

We are the reporter's version of the reviled lawyers labeled "ambulance chasers" except we are (slightly) less reviled.

Trained in metro reporting, even after you move on, or are out of your coverage area, it's hard to not follow the sirens.

So, in retrospect, I guess it's not really surprising that when police lights filled my room and sirens woke me from my in-between-sleep-and-wake state, I stood on my balcony to watch. And then, as it became clear there was about to be an arrest, and as the police cars kept coming, I pulled on my sweatshirt, grabbed my press pass, pen, and pad, and walked down the stairs.

It was 3:45 in the morning. There was no paper I could have called even if it was news (it was just a belligerent drunk, in the end). But really, how could I be expected to lie in bed without knowing what was going on just outside my window?



My Dorky, Dorky Friends.

Saturday, May 3, 2008 0 comments
I have a lot of friends who are newspaper dorks. That's not surprising considering the amount of time I spent at my college newspaper, but a series of unrelated conversations this week highlighted the extent of our beloved, excited, nerdiness:

Over GChat:
Friend 1: I'm writing about the history of the news ombudsman for my journalism class... which is a geekily exciting topic.
Me: oh my, that's an awesome topic. [Friend 2] would be jealous.
Friend 1: the swedish root for ombudsman means "the man who sees to it that the snow and ice and rubbish are removed from the streets and that the chimneys are swept." There's something charming about that
Me: yes. there is....
Friend 1: I just now appreciated how übermeta it is to write about ombudsmen. I'm writing about the people who write about the people who write about the world.
me: I just now appreciated, your use of an umlat in a gchat.

Meanwhile:
Me: He is writing a paper on the history of newspaper ombudsmen
Friend #2: Really?? That's sooooooo cool.

Over GChat:
Me: the society of environmental journalists beleives that reporters should send out FOIA requests at least once a month.
Friend 3, and former co-editor: they're right!
me: just blitz federal agencies and eventually something will come of itmy co reporter and I are sending three out today
Friend 3: oh, that warms my heart.
Later one the phone, she added: Freedom of information laws are my favorite laws.

Over Text-Message:
Me: The coffee here was terrible, so I really need caffeine
Me: (a few minutes later): I just left to ask for a Coke
Friend 2: Ha Ha the tough life of a reporter

Over Text-Message:
Me: The Washington Post used "rom com" instead of romantic comedy.
Friend 2: Noooooo

Over the phone:
Friend 4: I just came back from a talk by a Wall Street Journal Reporter, and he said journalists interpret the world. That made me so happy. It made me really excited about journalism.... I just called to tell you that.


Dot Dot Dot

Friday, April 25, 2008 0 comments


I am trying to figure out what to do with this ellipsis. At the Newseum, I bought a mug that I love. It's got the perfect heft, and the best part, of course, is what it says. "Trust me. I'm a reporter." But that's not what it says. It says "Trust me... I'm a reporter" I've thought about removing two of the dots, and putting a new one at the end, because I recognize that I will not be able to create a normal looking em dash. I've thought about scratching it out with a key or using black nail polish. But I've decided to leave it to prevent the very high risk of ruining my mug. So instead I've decided that the ellipsis connotes a sinister pause, which somehow seems apropos.

The Newseum: A Museum Review

Tuesday, April 22, 2008 0 comments

When I called the Newseum to ask about buying tickets before it opened, I asked how long it would take to go through the museum, which has five floors and over 24 hours of movies.
"We expect visitors to spend two to three hours going through the Museum," the woman on the other end of the phone said.
"What does the length depend on?" I asked.
"The size of the group."
"The size of the group, not the dorkiness of the group?"
[A slight confused pause.] "No. The size of the group."

Let it be known that the dorkiness of the group matters. (And makes for a much more critical and demanding group of visitors).

My group included four reporters and a copy editor. We entered the museum at 1 p.m. At 4:30 we had two floors to go. We decided to skip the exhibit on the Internet and see how long we could push the 5 p.m. closing time before getting kicked out. (About half an hour).

In the week since I have visited the Newseum, I've found myself increasingly describing it as "a history museum through the news". The room that ate up an hour and a half of our time and could have warranted a full day has tons of pull out drawers that are meant to show both the progression of newspapers from booklets to today's papers and to highlight the history that newspapers have recorded.

The letter John Peter Zenger dictated to his wife to have published in the next week's journal, apologizing for the decline in quality because he was arrested.
The newspaper with the gigantic J'ACCUSE headline about the Dreyfus affair
A copy of the LA Times declaring that everyone survived the Titanic crash.
Dewey Defeats Truman.
Nixon resigns.

They have many of the greatest hits and greatest embarrassments. (Though Ford To City: Drop Dead is noticeably absent). And, though Wonkette's slippers, the Watergate door, Anne Lander's letter opener, and Helen Thomas' clothes seem bizarre, some of the other paraphernalia --a reporter's kit from the civil war that includes a flask, a notebook page from a Newsweek reporter with the words "Monica Lewinsky" underlined at the top, and a page of Bob Woodward's Watergate notes, to name a few--were enough to evoke awe from the and opened mouths from me and my journalists friends.

But while the museum conveys a lot of respect for newspapers, media, and the journalists that put their lives on the line (a video tribute to a photographer killed when the Twin Towers fell is particularly moving) a visitor could come out of the museum still believing that newsrooms are smoke filled and that journalists use typewriters.

Short of a virtual "be a reporter" computer game there is nothing that actually conveys the day to day work of a reporter. No explanation of the editing process, no modern printing presses (or photos of them for that matter).

And, as one of the reporters I was with pointed out, while there is an excellent exhibit of Pulitzer Prize winning photographs, there is no where where you can read amazing articles from beginning to end. (The front pages don't jump and the set up is not conducive to reading the whole thing. Instead they effectively send a tingle of respect and history through the spines of interested visitors). The museum could benefit from a reading room and a place to listen to broadcasts.

One element of a journalists life was inadvertently conveyed -- the jolt of moving from one news story to another, from tragedy to triumph. While the Sept. 11 exhibit is moving and opens onto a walk way so there is time for contemplation, the memorial to journalists who were killed while reporting is next to the broadcast exhibit, and can feel like a walk-through. It is not conducive for quiet contemplation. In the excellent Pulitzer winning photos exhibit, there is a movie plays in which an interview with the photographer who took the photo of the Vietnamese man about to be shot is followed by an interview with the photographers who took the photos at the Atlanta Olympics. For a museum that had enough attention to detail to cleverly puts corrections and misleading headlines in all of the bathrooms, the lack of time for reflection in places where it was needed seems like a glaring oversight.

The First Amendment exhibit should have delved deeper into some of the cases so that even people who had taken Con. Law 101 could have learned something, the map of where free press exists was appropriately anger evoking and the mini-profiles of the men and women who wrote despite restrictions felt like teasers to longer stories but duly evoked deep respect for the journalists. I loved that both the Pentagon papers and the arm band that spurred Tinker V. Des Moines were on display .

Despite my criticisms, I would go back for many more visits. I didn't get a chance to watch the movies that look at individual parts of journalism history--such as coverage (or lack thereof) of the civil right movement-- or elements of putting out a newspaper--such as questions of bias. And I would love to spend a whole day in the News History Gallery.

I just hope that the Newseum uses its promised temporarily exhibits to fill in some of the holes.

Oh and while they're at it, a discount for working journalists wouldn't hurt.

Photo from a Facebook ad for the Newseum. The ad is also in the Metro. Does anyone else think it's weird that it seems to imply that the White House is in East Germany?
From Overheard In New York:

Woman: I'm glad it's starting soon. I could use some laugh therapy.
Friend: Um, it's not really a funny play...
Woman: Yeah -- I was kidding.
Friend: Oh.

--Waiting to see King Lear, The Public Theater

The quote reminds me of a conversation I once had with a friend.

Me: I'm going to see As You Like It, but I can't remember what it's about.
Friend: It's the one with the twins and the forests.
Me: Ha. Ha. Very funny.
Friend: What? I'm serious.
Me: Oh. um. Almost all of Shakespeare's comedies have something to do with twins and forests.
Heads Up: The Blog, a copy editing blog, which I think comes from the desk of the Wall Street Journal, brings this angry rant about the misuse of Shakespeare:

"Now is the winter of our discontent
made glorious summer by this son of York


Isn't it fun to be a copy editor? "Now" is an adverb, and it tells you something about how things are different from the last time we checked: The far-distant actor ("this son of York") has done something (don't you just love the passive voice?) to "the winter of our discontent." What was done to it? It was made "glorious summer." So lighten up. You've been waiting for the sun to shine on your back door, and it just did. March wind gonna blow all your cares away! Stop complaining about the potholes and read the damn sentence."


I have a soft spot in my heart for Shakespeare's history plays even though my thesis was titled "All That Is Spoke Is Marred -- Othello's Transformation of Speech Through Iago’s Influence."

Othello is still my favorite, but I really loved the Richard and Henry plays, so this post made me laugh. Plus the comments are great, because they argue over the use of the word "son." I bet the folio and quarto versions differ, but I can't tell because I have not shipped my Shakespeare plays here yet. Post in the comments if you can look it up in your notes of your edition of Richard III.

P.S. The next person who tells me that all they know about Iago is that he was Jafar's bird is going to make me burst into tears. Read the play. It's short. And amazing. Love, adultery, poetry, racial tensions, plotting, backstabbing, murder, suicide. What else could you possibly want in a play?
My roommate and I together subscribe to seven magazines. In subjective, increasing order of snobbery they are:

USWeekly (hers), New York (mine), Time (hers), Newsweek (mine), National Geographic (mine, a recent gift from my dad), National Review (hers), and The Economist (mine).

That's not counting The New Yorker, which I cannot bring myself to subscribe to because of the sheer amount of reading material that comes to our door every week, but which I buy at news stand price about twice a month. And of course there is the daily dose of the Washington Post and its weekly magazine, which is supposed to be part of our rent, but which I have been buying daily at newsstand price because there is something wrong with the delivery system.

Many of these magazines end up in our bathroom, prompting a friend to quip "there is so much good reading material in there. I didn't want to leave." That same friend, on a different visit, came out of the bathroom and said "Uh, not to judge, but you have USWeekly in there." To which the other friend visiting with her responded "I was a lot more concerned about the National Review." (Side note: The New York Times, ran a long and well written obit of the National Review founder, William F. Buckley, today. It says that he may have died in the middle of writing a column, That's incredible).

In its defense, USWeekly is on a "must read magazines" compiled by a former EIC of my college newspaper who is currently writing for Fortune. He put it on there, because like it or not, celebrity journalism (I resisted the scare quotes) is here to stay, and USWeekly does what it does well. But I would not go so far, as a friend recently did when asking a question to the Executive Editor of the Washington Post, to call it an "arts magazine."

Anyway, all of this musing was sparked by this quote from Overheard In New York:

"Chick: My life has really changed since moving to New York. Like, in L.A. I use to read Us Weekly, and now I read The New Yorker."

Ha.

My Dream House...

Monday, February 25, 2008 3 comments
...always had one of those round libraries with the sliding ladders in it. But, recognizing that I will never be able to afford a house like that, I'll settle for this. Yes, It looks like I might kill myself finding my books, but it's so cool. Plus, I truly believe that raising kids in a house full of books, however dangerous, is really important. There are books in every stair. Tell me that's not amazing.
Hint, the photo is from above looking down at the steps. It took me a while to figure that out.


Though I hate to say it because I no longer like the blog, hat tip to the friend who pointed me to Gawker, which in turn pointed me to Apartment Therapy.

It Seems Dreams Come In Pairs

Thursday, January 3, 2008 0 comments
In case you were feeling bad for Woodward, last night I dreamed about him.

I MUST start reading things that have nothing to do with Watergate. In this dream Woodward had agreed to play himself in a play based on All The President's Men, though people thought it would be hilariously funny if he was playing Bernstein instead (don't ask. It's a dream. For the record, Bernstein seemed to be played by some kind of animal).

Anyhow, the play fell through and Woodward and I chatted for hours. He said that the movie softened his image (but in my dream version of the All The President's Men movie, Woodward had a red wagon he was very fond of. Again don't ask).

We talked about the movie vs. real life, editors at The Post, and then I asked him the same Janet Cooke question, forgetting that Woodward was Cooke's editor at the time. He showed no sign of being impressed that I read Bradlee's book (considering it was an NYTimes bestseller, there is really no reason to be impressed) but the question made him immeasurably sad, and he said some things I can't remember about irreparable mistakes. I asked him some more things and then he had to leave, and I walked down the street bragging to anyone who would listen that Woodward let me talk to him for three hours. (I hid my embarrassments that I had not read a single book he wrote since All The President's Men and did not tell him that I thought the Deep Throat book came across as a money-maker and little more).

I desperately need dreams that are less dorky.

You Know You Are A Dork When...

Saturday, December 29, 2007 0 comments

Normally, this blog would never include anything as personal as a dream, but this is ridiculous.

Last night, I dreamt that I was interviewing Carl Bernstein. It wasn't for a particular story -- it seemed that I was preparing for a Watergate-like story of my own, and I wanted some tips. So we walked around my alma mater, and I was asking him questions, and he was answering, as one who is being interviewed is wont to do. But we needed a place to sit, so we walked into the offices of my college newspaper, where, of course we ran into a million people I know, and I kept saying "so and so, this is Carl Bernstein, Carl, this is so and so" and so and so would look agog or would say something like "oh, hi. I was her editor." (Somehow, no one felt the need to say "oh hi, she was my editor").

Bernstein, as I introduced him as often as not, was getting annoyed that our interview was getting interrupted, and to give the dreamed up Berstein some credit, I seemed to be going out of my way to introduce everyone to him, as in yelling down the halls "Hey! look! It's Berstein!" kind of out of the way. So I took him into the office where I was annoyed to see a meeting of a ton of people who would never actually be in a meeting together. We finally found a place and the interview progressed (at this point, I actually took out my voice recorder and notebook) until he said he had to go. So we walked and had this conversation:

Me: "So, in Ben Bradlee's autobiography he writes..."
Him: "Wow you came prepared"
Me: (showing off and feeling guilty I had not read Bernstein's autobiography which I am pretty sure does not exist) "Actually, Katherine Graham mentions this in her autobiography as well, though it is more focused on in Bradlee's. Bradlee writes that the Janet Cooke fiasco was attributed by some to Watergate -- that all young reporters wanted a Watergate of their own, and that Cooke tried to do that with Jimmy's World. Do you think that that is true?" (Bonus: Here are the articles that followed Jimmy's World).

At this point, I think we reached the subway where he was surrounded by interested people, and I started peppering him with great questions to which he gave great answers that I had to remember because I somehow no longer had a pen, paper, or recorder.

That's all of the dream I remember, but the dorkiness did not subside there. I woke up wondering why I chose to interview Bernstein instead of his more succesful counterpart Bob Woodward. Then, still in bed I had a momentary mind-blank and could not remember Bernstein's first name, so I reached for Bradlee's book, which was accesbile without having to get out of bed. I then remembered, felt like an idiot, and tried to remember if there was a good reason I had read All the President's Men but not The Final Days.

All this before wiping the sleep crust out of my eyes.

I need a more exciting life.

If this wasn't so ridiculous, it would be embarrassing.

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Written Pyramids is a blog written by a journalist living and working in Washington D.C.

I have left my real name off of the blog so as not to imply that the blog is somehow linked with the journalism I get paid to do. (Still, I never write about my beat on this blog, and rarely express opinions about the day's news regardless of its relationship to my beat).

I would love to hear from you. If you want to contact me directly rather than leaving a comment here, I can be reached at WrittenPyramids@gmail.com.

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Books pyramid image originally from the British website, Explore Writing.