Here’s a trayful of food for thought from the Blogosphere Cafeteria.
From Eve Tushnet:
Anyone who is or feels herself radically opposed to the currents of the day is liable to feel that her own account of her life is “unrealistic.” Her perspective is not realist. Her perspective is fantastic, outside, genre.
“Realism” only works for people whose worldviews are already accepted as realistic. The rest of us must make do with genre.
From BuzzMachine:
In this age of transparency — of constant cable news and C-Span’s unblinking eye and instant online wire reports and mobile alerts and full transcripts online and more video here and weblog links to coverage everywhere and automated Google news searches and, in sum, the commoditization of news — the role of the newsman has utterly changed … but that news hasn’t caught up to the newsmen yet.
It used to be, we depended on them to tell us what is happening (and some prided themselves on doing it better than others). Those days are over. Toast. “What happened” is the commodity; we can find out what happened anywhere anytime….
We can all see all the news and judge for ourselves what’s news and what isn’t, what’s real and what isn’t, what’s important and what isn’t, and often what’s true and what isn’t.
Do reporters and editors still have a role in the news we can all see (as opposed to the news they dig up)? Don’t know yet, do we?
From Household Opera:
I finished grading a round of papers only to discover a documentable plagiarism case. I hate having to deal with that kind of thing. I hate having to give the stern “You’re looking at an F on the assignment, a very unpleasant meeting with the dean of students, and academic probation” lecture. Even more than that, I hate it when these cases disrupt my usual working assumption that we’re all adults and I don’t have to yell at anyone for intellectual dishonesty….
From Mixolydian Mode:
I hate most familiar Christmas music. Some of the carols are very good, but when there’s no escape from them they cease to be a pleasure. Other tunes aren’t so good; has there ever been a more Orwellian song than “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town”?
God bless us, every one.