Rage, rage against the dying of the idealized past

I used to love reading the newspaper. For years I had the Globe and Mail, and then the Toronto Star, delivered to my home. I’d read it on the subway, or on my couch, and feel I was reading something important. Five years ago, the Globe pissed me off by charging me twice to read the same content, and I canceled my subscription out of protest. Shortly thereafter I began reading the Star, but once newspapers rolled out RSS feeds I basically threw the paper versions over for this more efficient (and more environmentally friendly) method.

I read this as my own example of how mainstream media was dying, though not already dead, as ‘new’ media liked to claim. It caught my attention, then, that NPR’s Intelligence Squared podcast dealt with the statement “Good riddance to mainstream media” last week. For those of you who haven’t heard NPR’s Oxford-style debates before, the debate is book-ended by audience votes for or against the proposition, and whoever changes the most minds during the debate (according to the audience poll) is declared the winner. Now, forgive the spoiler (as if any of you are going to sit through it!) but those against the proposition win the day. In my opinion this had less to do with the efficacy of anyone’s argument and more to do with the phrasing of the proposition.

I’ll explain: I’d wager that, apart from investors in blog networks, no one wants the mainstream media to collapse and disappear. In fact, most people probably just don’t care. Few, then, would vote for a proposition that sounds rather gleeful about the demise of mainstream media.

Even then, the nays might have won it on a low blow, as those backed into a corner sometimes throw. Again, I’ll explain: the classic tactic of any industry which finds itself under siege is to ignore the facts and appeal to emotion. Think of the music industry: there was no debate about one medium (the CD) being superior to the other (the MP3), and there was certainly no attempt to produce profit by matching supply to the obvious demand; instead, sensing a threat to their existing business model, they wept for the poor artist starving now that he was deprived of album royalties. That was, of course, horseshit, but that’s the tactic: obfuscate by tugging at the heartstrings. Likewise opponents of gay marriage (who purport to defend the very fabric of society), gun ownership lobbies (“You couldn’t be more wrong, Lisa. If I didn’t have this gun, the King of England could just walk in here any time he wants, and start shoving you around.”) and union organizers (who still cast their negotiations as Dickensian urchins struggling under the boot of wealthy land barons).

In this case the MSM tries to equate their business model — print, newsrooms, and on on — with the moral righteousness of pure journalism. Kill newspapers, they say, and you’ll lose the Woodwards and Bernsteins and Murrows of the world who expose corruption and tweak our collective conscience. Leaving aside for a moment the false sanctity of journalism this supposes, there’s a gaping logical flaw in their argument. Just because the mainstream media is where journalistic triumphs have tended to happen, does not prove that only the mainstream media that can produce beneficial journalism.

This notion did float up during the podcast — someone arguing for the proposition did say that no one would debate that journalism is good — but it didn’t garner much discussion, probably because the ‘no’ side benefits from marrying the ‘how’ and the ‘what’. Would should have been debated was the probably longevity of the ‘how’, but it became — as such debates often do — a discussion on the merits of the ‘what’. If the proposition is that the MSM is no longer the most viable model for journalism, but the MSM successfully convinces people that they are journalism, the inferred extension of this is that the end of the MSM equals the end of journalism. It’s a logical fallacy, but an effective tool.

This deceptive tool is usually wrapped up in the banner of tradition or ‘way of life’. Five to ten years from now we’ll be listening to the auto industry explain that conservation and urbanization make us drive less, and driving is synonymous with freedom, and therefore environmentalism is killing freedom.

The first (and likely only) time I've been able to say Mazel Tov

While getting ready for our friends’ wedding yesterday Nellie commented on how unusual it was to see a relationship develop from infancy — before there even was a relationship — to marriage. We were lucky enough to see the culmination of that last night. Our friends tied the knot, and they did it in style.

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The venue was The Carlu, which we’d never been to before. It’s an inspired, elegant space which, two days prior, had hosted Prince Charles. He even left a decorative centerpiece. The ceremony happened in a beautiful candle-lit room with a view of the city, and the reception afterward gave everyone a chance ooh and aah appropriately. I had the opportunity to catch up with old friends, even an old colleague from Delano, while fruitlessly hunting for the lamb lollipops we heard were making the rounds.

Our meal, in keeping with the bride’s foodie inclinations, was among the best I’d ever had at a wedding: lobster risotto to start and beef tenderloin with potato gnocchi, both paired with a recommended wine. A trio of desserts wrapped up while the speeches continued, and quite a collection of speeches they were. All were touching, but I thought the bride and her father stole the show.

Dinner gave way to dancing, and speeches to laughter. The bartender, who I came to know quite well over the course of the evening, commented that it was the best (which I took to mean busiest) dance floor she’d seen. At 11pm the caterers began serving gourmet poutine, a nod to the groom’s Montreal heritage, which was an enormous hit with many, especially Nellie. Some time after that we hoisted the bride and groom on chairs, which is harder than you might think, especially when you’re the only one throwing an entire side of the chair up in the air. My arms are a little sore this morning, but it was worth it to be able to sing Hava Negila.

At the end of the night with the remaining few dozen left on the dance floor and drinking drinks, I found myself sitting, staring, smiling broadly as I saw my friends so happy. Happy not just because the evening came off so perfectly, but also from the sheer joy that comes from being part of such an effusion of love. I remembered the feeling from my own wedding, and could see it on their faces. We were lucky enough to be there, twenty-five months to the day (so the groom told us) from their first date, to see the end of the prelude, and the beginning of their story.

"The dark valley through which we have marched together."

After…I dunno, like eleven years, I’ve finally finished reading The Dark Valley: A Panorama of the 1930s (amazon | indigo) by Piers Brendon. I picked it up along with Richard Evans’ The Coming Of The Third Reich (which I talked about in February) to help make sense of the interwar period and run-up to WWII, just as I had read The Guns of August to set up WWI.

Where Evans wrote a micro look at how the Nazis came to power in Germany, this book was the macro history of the rise of dictatorships in Italy, Spain and Russia, and of imperial militarism in Japan. It also chronicled the weakness, hesitation and indifference of France, Great Britain and the United States. There wasn’t much information here that was new for me, but Brendon managed to artfully tie together all the moving parts, giving a greater sense of the rise of fascism in the 30s around the world. Highly recommended if you’ve always wondered, as I did, how the world came to such a conflagration.

Now, as I did when delving into the first war, I’ll turn to my uncle’s book A Short History of WWII to understand the events of the war itself. I’ve read the book twice before, but if following this same pattern for WWII has the same effect on my understanding that it did for WWI, I’ll have a better grasp of what the battles meant. If, as von Clausewitz said, “War is a continuation of policy by other means,” I’ll have a better grasp of what the policy was in the first place.

I don't know where Tilburg is, but I want to go to there

Just had dinner at beerbistro with Nellie and Stanzi, who’s in town for a momentous occasion. More momentous than dinner with us, that is. We were just an appetizer before the main course.

Dinner was fantastic. Frites, pakoras, cheese fondue, bacon-wrapped shrimp. Nellie had two tripels from Allagash, and Stanzi had their wit. I had a Maudite and a Tilburg’s dutch brown ale, of which I’d never heard but of which I became damned fond.

And now…sleepy. I had an 8am meeting this morning. I have another 8am meeting tomorrow morning. I have a 7am (!) meeting Thursday morning. Thank god daylight saving time ended this week.

It'd be easier to illustrate this to Joe Camel if he had five fingers

This Economist daily chart last week shocked me:

I should point out, though, that it wasn’t so much the chart that freaked me out. Percentages can be deceiving as there’re two numbers involved, and in this case the denominator — total deaths in a country — is going to vary wildly between countries. African countries may have more smoking deaths than North America, and may even have more smoking deaths per capita than North America, but there are myriad other causes of death in those countries which mute the relative impact of smoking.

In my mind the most shocking part of the Economist’s post was in the preamble: “Nearly one in five deaths in rich countries is caused by smoking, according to new data released this week by the World Health Organisation.”  I found that hard to believe, but a quick Google search turned up some supporting evidence.

One in five…one in five. According to the list of leading causes of death in Canada in 1997, that’s twice as many deaths as accidents, diabetes, suicide, liver disease, cirrhosis and HIV account for put together. How tobacco companies haven’t been sued — or prosecuted — into oblivion yet is beyond me.

Seeing that list does put things in perspective though. No warfare in the top 15. No genocide or famine either. No earthquakes, typhoons or tsunamis. Instead, safe from the list of things that kill the rest of the world, we voluntarily stick cancer-causing chemicals in our mouths. Unbelievable.

It's the little touches that matter(ed)

Today I received a nice customer service letter from Scotiabank:

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Nice, right? Checking to see if I’d like to get a lower rate, or if I’m thinking about moving. That’s a pretty good customer experience. Especially since I’m not one of their customers anymore.

It’s true, my mortgage was with Scotia, but I moved it to another bank. Eight months ago. So, that’s a big old marketing database/process fail.

On further inspection, I have a hard time believing I am, in fact, a “valued customer” when a) they don’t know I left them eight months ago and b) they called me “Valued Customer” instead of my name. Mail merge, guys. Try it on.

Every nineteen minutes

Have you heard of Drummer? As in, the band made up of five drummers from Ohio? Most famous of which is the Black Keys‘ drummer?

No?

Well, you should. Legally, as a former drummer, I’m required by international statute to like them, but I think they’d stand up to an objective examination by others. I keep hearing Pavement references, which is odd, ’cause I never liked Pavement, but I do like this. Check them out. Buy their new album Feel Good Together.

(myspace | pitchfork)

The cool thing is, there's literally a field below his house

As I have so many times before I made my Dad a CD yesterday. Or, rather, I compiled a playlist; I neglected to get a CD writer in my lastest computer — I simply never burn anything anymore — so my brother had to burn the CD. Thanks Andrew!

Here’s the playlist:

  1. Holly Golightly . “A Length of Pipe”
  2. Angels Of Light & Akron Family . “I Pity The Poor Immigrant”
  3. Dan Auerbach . “Heartbroken, In Disrepair”
  4. Elliott Brood . “Jackson”
  5. Damien Jurado . “Everything Trying”
  6. William Elliott Whitmore . “Johnny Law”
  7. Avett Brothers . “The Ballad Of Love And Hate”
  8. Detroit Cobras . “The Real Thing”
  9. Regina Spektor . “Field Below”
  10. Rural Alberta Advantage . “Rush Apart”
  11. Great Lake Swimmers . “Still”
  12. Bishop Allen . “True Or False”
  13. Alela Diane . “White As Diamonds”
  14. Metric . “Gimme Sympathy (acoustic)”
  15. Wye Oak . “For Prayer”
  16. Neko Case . “Middle Cyclone”

He will, as usual, love the Damien Jurado and William Elliot Whitmore songs. He’ll probably like the Dan Auerbach, Neko Case and Angels of Light & Akron Family. Not sure how he’ll feel about the Wye Oak or Bishop Allen, but I can’t just lob him softballs all the time, even if he is a senior now.

Where women glow and men plunder

Right now my brother Tim and his wife are on a plane, flying halfway around the world to begin a new adventure. As he announced on his blog last month he’s moving to Australia.

On the downside this means I probably won’t see them for a couple of years, and also that we no longer have a home base in the UK. On the other hand, I can now look forward not only to reading about said adventure on his blog, but also to visiting them in Oz. Nellie and I have already decided to visit in 2011 (already too many commitments in 2010). Clearly the good outweighs the bad in this situation.

As someone who occasionally feels an urge to sell everything move to a new city, I’m both envious and proud of them. Congratulations guys, and godspeed.

The band everybody (especially Canadians) should be listening to

Since the demise of The Rheostatics, the door has been open for the title of most quintessentially Canadian band. I was tempted to say The Constantines but they don’t have the same quirk to their lyrics that made the Rheos part of Canadian culture, and which once made The Tragically Hip interesting. So here’s my vote for the new flagbearer.

I’ve been listening to The Rural Alberta Advantage for a while now, and the more I listen to their finally-released-this-year full-length Hometowns, and the more I really absorb the lyrics, the more they sound like Canada. They sing about perfectly Canadian things, like leaving their homes to drive to Ontario for their careers, or getting out of towns like Lethbridge, or the Frank Slide. And, most importantly, their music is awesome. Super, super awesome and catchy as balls.

Check out their site or their MySpace. If you’re in Toronto they’re playing Lee’s Palace on Nov 20; check out their site for other tour dates.