Journalism and Honesty

We all know journalism has changed dramatically with the advent of the internet, reality television, and so on. Most ‘news’ seems to deal with celebrities or those who think they are celebrities. For example, I had to search for information this past week on the earthquake in Alaska. I had to sift through so-called articles on the Kardashians, on which city is the ‘sexiest’ and on women’s jello wrestling.

So I’m admittedly jaded on news articles these days. But one in particular really set my teeth on edge. An article in which the reporter interviewed someone who just happens to be the author’s spouse. Which was not disclosed in the article. (This was not a national-level news agency.)

And I am supposed to respect that journalist? Believe the article? Trust that it wasn’t written with a specific slant? And what about the readers who don’t happen to know that fact? They’ve all been cheated.

There’s such a thing as an appearance of fairness when it comes to journalism. Most professional journalists would have simply disclosed the relationship in the article and gone on with their opinion. That would have been just fine. But by not disclosing that fact, the appearance of fairness no longer exists.

What also no longer exists is any trust in the facts of the article. Because if the relationship between writer and interviewee had to be hidden, I’m left wondering what else is hidden as well.

And when you have to question the truthfulness of the writer, you’ve lost the reader.

What are your thoughts on this type of journalism, or the ‘new’ journalism?

But Wait…

Yesterday was Sunday and I whined about how short weekends are and how I wasn’t ready for work. But wait…today’s Friday. What happened?

More importantly, what did I do during this week? Worked, came home, ran errands, did chores, fed animals, talked to the kid…all the usual weekly and daily traditions. And now the week is over.

But wait…

Was I kind? Did I do something caring in the midst of strangers? Did I do something that will have meaning, or will last? Or was I in the weekly rut?

It’s scary how fast time flows. Maybe it’s just that there’s an impending birthday on the horizon. Maybe it’s just that I realized a thirty-year-old was born during a time when I was already an adult. Either way, it’s flying and I’m trying to hold on to the slipstream.

Over the past two years there have been so many changes.

I’ve been drawn away.

I’ve walked away.

I’ve laughed a lot.

I’ve cried a little. Quietly and alone to not sadden those I care for.

I’ve started new things, stepped onto new paths.

And it’s all happened so fast.

And one of these days that slip of time will slow and then stop.

I want to discover how to pause in the middle of the race, how to actually see what rushes by.

I want to remember to breathe, to touch, to walk in the woods, to write, to help, to be there for others, to smile at strangers, to hold the door, to ease someone’s day.

In the meantime, it’s now afternoon and there are several things that need to be accomplished before evening so I’m going to end this and rush away.

But wait…

Not before pausing to say I hope your day brings one thing that makes you smile, or breathe, or rest, or just be.

Why Did the Mouse Cross the Road?

Most people ask why the chicken crosses the road. I want to know about the mouse.

Driving home tonight, in the dark and snow and forest, a little mouse ran across the highway. He made it safely, but I was left pondering his action the rest of the drive.

Think about that little body and tiny little feet. A whole expanse of highway. Why? What made him put his life on the line?

I imagine his mouse family sobbing at home as the intrepid explorer sets out. Rather like wondering what’s out there in the ocean, what’s at the edge of the earth, what’s on the other side of the mountain. What did he hope to discover? Did he hope to someday be able to return to his mouse family with tails (sorry, tales) of the great beyond? Will they believe him? Will they think he’s nuts? Well, they probably already do.

More than likely he simply caught the scent of a discarded sunflower seed or crumb tossed out a window. How dull.

So while this post has nothing to do with writing, it is how a writer’s brain works. One little mouse darts out and off we go into the why, and what if, and but then…

And now I wonder if he made it. Or if he got across that pavement only to be scooped up by an owl.