Washington Post: “But offering free programming directly to the consumer over the Internet may threaten to cannibalize the existing television business, analysts said. Network affiliates, which have traditionally cut deals with programmers to distribute content in regional television markets, will have to find ways of hanging on to their local audiences….’This probably makes the trend toward online video irreversible,’ said Phil Leigh, an analyst with research firm Inside Digital Media Inc.”
Month / April 2006
Journalistic Kids These Days
David Halberstam on Iraq: “Halberstam, who has written about other presidential administrations and war decisions, isn’t sure he will write about Iraq. ‘Part of me wants younger people to write it,’ yet there is the challenge of figuring out ‘how we have gotten it so wrong and why the Democrats behaved so poorly,’ he said.”
This is a good point. Where are today’s David Halberstams? Why is Seymour Hersh digging up all the dirt (again) while the Believer staffers devote their precious resources to Modest Mouse? For that matter, while this is a start, if Ben Kunkel is hot shit and n+1 represents a new world order, why isn’t he in Tehran right now digging up dirt?
New Single Not of the Streets
Kim has tracked down a single from The Streets’ new album. It’s an interesting new direction, but I’m a bit concerned. You see, part of Mike Skinner’s appeal is his no-bullshit lack of melody. Now the wanker has started singing instead of rapping, which sort of takes away from the grime and grit that made the first two albums so appealing in the first place. Skinner’s now saying, “You can’t stop fucking pop stars.” That’s a far and unfortunate cry from the passive and humdrum hell he captured so well in “Could Well Be In.”
Eisners Announced
I was beat to the punch by Powell’s, but the 2006 Eisner nominations have been announced. Warren Ellis and Chris Ware have landed the most nominations. But there are also nods to Brian K. Vaughan (Y: The Last Man is a Mabuse fave), Alan Moore, and Kyle Baker for two self-published efforts. Alex Robinson was also nominated for Tricked in the “Best Graphic Album — New” category.
And speaking of Warren Ellis, he’s put up three of his comics scripts for public perusal, if you’re of the curious persuasion.
Me Thinks Momus Doth Protest Too Much
Cry me a river, Momus. There is a very specific reason why I don’t own an iPod, a Zen Micro or even a shitty Discman. (I did own one of the latter, but I destroyed it about three years ago in mock anarchist mode in front of a few friends when it began malfunctioning.) It’s because I enjoy room tone and the sound of natural space, even that occupied with a dim tune coming from an overhead garret. It’s because I love riding the subway and the buses lost in a book or fascinated by a group of people or overhearing some salacious cell phone conversation. It’s also because I value my ears. When I do any kind of audio engineering, I want to bring a fresh concentration to what I do. I don’t think humans were designed to be exposed to constant 24/7 audio input. I suspect, however, that the MySpace generation born just after me doesn’t yet know this.
It should be noted that humans can, in fact, say no to things such as television and portable audio recorders. One can also befriend neighbors and come to terms with precisely the kind of volume level that might aggravate them (or likewise). If a schmuck like me (who is often socially inept) can find a common level of respect among his neighbors, then so can Momus.
In other words, I take objection to Momus’s premise that the American landscape has been irrevocably saturated by music. I live in the Haight. It can get quite noisy from time to time. But I did take care to move into a pad that had affordable rent and solid walls. Forward thinking and planning can get you into desirable environments. Tolerance too.
But here’s another existential trade secret: by exposing my ears to the natural din of conversation during my MUNI commutes and within my inner sanctum, any sort of audio onslaught, whether it be my neighbor blasting jazz or the Fiona Apple obsession the folks at my local coffeehouse is not only more tolerable, but it can be tuned out, provided that some sanctuaries still remain.
I’ll be more concerned if they start piping wretched elevator music into the subways.