The Continuing War on Bloggers
Today's New York Times features an article prominently placed on the front page of the business section detailing the recent fallout over the resignation of a "top news executive at CNN" due to the diligence of a few bloggers who "broke" a story that wasn't going to be covered by the "mainstream" media. This comes hot on the heels of the "forced" resignation of Dan Rather due to the scandal over President Bush's service records from his time serving in the Air National Guard, again as a result of the efforts of a determined bunch of bloggers to get the story right. For good reason, this is providing warranted attention for such grass-roots initiatives that are having a very real-world affect on matters big and small. As I've written before, there seems to be a sense of overwhelming frustration and, for lack of a better term, outright fear of the power that bloggers have amassed over that past few years. If it's not labeling bloggers as delusional for their far-sightedness and bloated senses of their own self worth, then it's a smear campaign that strives to label the actions of a diligent few comparable to that of a lunatic fringe drowned in political partisanship, or as in the case of this article an "angry mob" or a "lynch mob."

I've never been a huge proponent of blogs, and I still cling to my assertion that most serve little purpose other than to allow the writers to post the most mundane observations and egotistical ramblings that seek to elevate their own self-worth. In this case, though, it seems that these bloggers are legitimately serving a purpose, that being to get stories reported either correctly or covered in the first place. The reason the "mainstream" media seems to feel the need to degrade bloggers as part of a fringe group or quacks with an ideological agenda is that they would, without any sense of pressure, drag out their own investigations and continue their noncoverage of "newsworthy" events because there would be no outside pressure to do so. Any group with newfound power is eager to exploit that fact, and bloggers are no different. This comes from a sense that perhaps the flickering flame of notoriety will be snuffed out before too long, so it better to "burn out than to fade away." Even so, it seems like an unjust response by the "mainstream" media to downgrade the efforts of bloggers who are basking in their newfound status as regulators on the plain. Off the cuff remarks, such as labeling bloggers as part of a "lynch mob" serve no purpose other than to accurately reflect how tenuous a grasp on matters "real" journalists have and betray their own lack of self-confidence in their ability to compete with the masses.

"The 1990s were great because suddenly lonely people had a place where they could all be lonely together while pretending to be fine on the outside. Well, that's what I do in coffee shops. My head may be cyclonic with desperation on the inside, but I've worked damn hard to ensure that I don't look the way I feel. I try to look as if I have a meaningful slot in society." pg. 68

"It has been said by someone far wiser than myself, that nobody is boring who is willing to tell the truth about himself. To narrow this down further, someone equally wise said that the things that make us ashamed are also the things that make us interesting." pg. 141

The above quotes appear in Douglas Coupland's latest uneven novel Eleanor Rigby. I've written about this previously, but the trend seems to be continuing, at least as far as Coupland's writing is concerned, of writers who can't seem to sustain a narrative that doesn't veer off into the outlandish and unbelievable. The book, which is a rather slim 249 pages, serves up an interesting premise at the start and an intriguing narrator, who voices the above observations. The main character, Liz Dunn, is set up as being someone whose life is filled to the brim with an overbearing sense of loneliness and isolation, and it's this quality that I truly related to and made the above quotes, especially the first one, seem very poignant. What happens, though, is that in this very short novel, Coupland hammers this point home beyond necessity. Very few pages go by without some mention of feeling neglected in some form or another. This does little to create a sense of sympathy towards the character. In fact, it works in the reverse affect; this bemoaning of the fact is nothing more than an antithesis to any narcissistic impulse that fuels the egos of the self-absorbed. So, in the end, one could care less about her being a lonely woman whose job is the only ritual in her life that seems to break up the monotonous aspects of consigned isolation.

To add further to the absurdity, the character, surprisingly or perhaps not so much so, has a lot of money. Being a lonely woman who has no need to spend money on herself or others affords her the opportunity to amass a small fortune. Why this grates on my nerves is that Coupland sets up a very believable character but has to add some aspect to her character that takes her out of the realm of believability into the arena of the stock novel character. It's troublesome to go through a novel and bond with a character so much because you can say, "Hey, I've felt exactly like that," only to have it thrown into the wind by some outlandish plot twists that distance you from the character more and more. I frequent coffeeshops, and I assume that this is an accurate portrayal of not only myself but of others who are there as well. Reading this, I was intrigued by the idea of a character who isn't good looking, is overweight, and a loner, but the fact that she's amassed a large fortune and has an absurdly romantic climax put the finishing touches to her life story all but effectively eliminates any sense of camaraderie. I wish writers would just dispense with the feel-good flourishes and just write about life as it is and how it truly flows.