I do miss news of the annual Fuschia Exhibition in the British Legion Hall, and who’s up before the beak for acts of wanton violence. The local paper still exists but I doubt whether there’s more than one journalist covering N.Essex, whereas it used to be the Harwich and Dovercourt Standard. I don’t want to know about a new eaterie in Chelmsford.
I did my work experience at the local paper in the summer of 2000. It was really interesting and one of my most memorable weeks of school. I really wanted to be a sports journalist, but this week opened up my mind to more general news stories, court reporting and breaking news as well as the skill of sub-editing. However... it was pretty obvious my local paper was on its arse even back then and the chances of a lucrative career were small. How it's still going another quarter of a century on is a true marvel of the modern world.
The worry for me re: the decline of journalism is that the popular imagination of what a "journalist" is boils down to one of two rather unfair stereotypes: 1. celebrity gossip and paparazzi or 2. opinion columns in newspapers written by middle-aged white blokes who get paid ridiculous sums to shout about how much they hate immigrants and LGBTQA people. But what about the people who reported on Partygate? Or the Post Office scandal? Or the now-almost-defunct tradition of local news that reports on the day-to-day stuff that happens on our own doorsteps (invariably written by the journos who later to go on to work for the nationals, and give us the stories like Partygate or the Post Office scandal)? I have a horrible feeling that we won't truly appreciate it until it's not there any more. Heck, we're already grumbling about how everything feels like either clickbait listicles or hidden behind a paywall!
And yeah. "There is no amount of money you could offer me to be 18 again." Yiiikes. I don't know what else to say to that story...
One of my favourites from Marie. Back in the Pleistocene when hacks drank and came up with decent lines in pub, "race ya" (to get the line in print) was as bad as it got. Pre-social media, in Dublin, so the competition was limited. Now you've got to worry about Clare Malone from the N*w Y&rk3r instead of some clown on the next barstool.
Though to give Clare her due, she was laid off from FiveThirtyEight like 5 minutes after the 2020 election - so I suppose she's got an informed perspective on the topic.
“ I do not want any pickled onion Monster Munch. I am French.” was a genuine LOL for me!
I do miss news of the annual Fuschia Exhibition in the British Legion Hall, and who’s up before the beak for acts of wanton violence. The local paper still exists but I doubt whether there’s more than one journalist covering N.Essex, whereas it used to be the Harwich and Dovercourt Standard. I don’t want to know about a new eaterie in Chelmsford.
I did my work experience at the local paper in the summer of 2000. It was really interesting and one of my most memorable weeks of school. I really wanted to be a sports journalist, but this week opened up my mind to more general news stories, court reporting and breaking news as well as the skill of sub-editing. However... it was pretty obvious my local paper was on its arse even back then and the chances of a lucrative career were small. How it's still going another quarter of a century on is a true marvel of the modern world.
The worry for me re: the decline of journalism is that the popular imagination of what a "journalist" is boils down to one of two rather unfair stereotypes: 1. celebrity gossip and paparazzi or 2. opinion columns in newspapers written by middle-aged white blokes who get paid ridiculous sums to shout about how much they hate immigrants and LGBTQA people. But what about the people who reported on Partygate? Or the Post Office scandal? Or the now-almost-defunct tradition of local news that reports on the day-to-day stuff that happens on our own doorsteps (invariably written by the journos who later to go on to work for the nationals, and give us the stories like Partygate or the Post Office scandal)? I have a horrible feeling that we won't truly appreciate it until it's not there any more. Heck, we're already grumbling about how everything feels like either clickbait listicles or hidden behind a paywall!
And yeah. "There is no amount of money you could offer me to be 18 again." Yiiikes. I don't know what else to say to that story...
One of my favourites from Marie. Back in the Pleistocene when hacks drank and came up with decent lines in pub, "race ya" (to get the line in print) was as bad as it got. Pre-social media, in Dublin, so the competition was limited. Now you've got to worry about Clare Malone from the N*w Y&rk3r instead of some clown on the next barstool.
Though to give Clare her due, she was laid off from FiveThirtyEight like 5 minutes after the 2020 election - so I suppose she's got an informed perspective on the topic.