Selasa, 28 Desember 2010

Jon Stewart and the Shame of Journalism



Inside Television 534
Publication Date: 12-31-10
By: Hubert O'Hearn
Jon Stewart named Man of the Year

As this column appears in print on New Year's Eve, I am reminded of the oft-repeated words of the late Ed McMahon: 'New Year's is a night for amateur drunks'. So therefore sir, you and I as professionals need to set an example for all the kids out there. There is both a right way of doing things or a drive off the highway way. You want to go with that first one.

For instance, just because at midnight that bottle of expensive scotch on the sideboard looks an awful lot like that jug of Mateus you lugged into the party at eight does not make it yours. You don't want to get kicked out in the snow because frankly right about now you couldn't drive a nail let alone Dad's truck. So be advised.

Now then – I used to write a column for pwtorch.com, the best pro wrestling news website. The of course there were multiple hospitalizations from our house that left me and the dog staring at each other with little thought balloons appearing over our heads that read, Who's Next? So the hobby writing dropped low on the priority list.
Anyway, the editor – Wade Keller – posted a question on the Torch website this week that I thought was a good way of approaching the New Year. He asked, What would you like wrestling to give you in 2011?

I responded to it, not that I'll belabor you with the response. Search the site and you'll find it. But I do have an answer to my own version, What would I like television to give me in 2011?

The New York Times this week stated that comedian Jon Stewart is the Edward R. Murrow of today, specifically for focusing on the issue of the lack of publicly-funded health care for the 9-11 first responders. Many of them have suffered from debilitating respiratory illnesses from the carnage they inhaled, among other sicknesses afflicting them, and Stewart essentially shamed the U.S. Congress into passing a Bill that was dying on the order paper which covered the first responders' needs.
As much as I admire and applaud Jon Stewart for this and many other actions, I think that virtually every legitimate journalist should feel as shamed as the obstructionist Congressmen. Every Western democracy, for this isn't just an 'American thing', has a reflexive belief in protecting the freedom of the press. One innately believes in this, like the acceptances that babies are cute, no one cooks like Mom, and when mice wear pants and appear in a drawing they have the ability to speak.

But press freedom is only worth defending if the press actually does its job. Its only purpose should be to challenge authority. All authority. Government, business, religion, scientific, economic, labour, ethical and overall philosophical. That's the job gentlemen.

The most ridiculous proposition in today's journalism (specifically here we'll deal with television journalism) is that somehow having a one-track attack as an editorial decision, whether its from the right or the left is somehow a breath of fresh air. Feisty! Provocative! Giving them fat cats hell!

That is a bigger load of rubbish than all the discarded trees and bags of ruined wrapping paper to be found tumbled the streets on the first garbage pick-up day after Christmas. Fox News or the upcoming Sun TV in Canada aren't revolutionaries: they are panderers. They pander to the interests of power and capital, of a permanent war mentality that cannot be challenged, and at a concentration on the glamorous or infamous figures at the top rather than the needs of the millions and the billions.

By the news – broadly stated – not challenging equally it challenges nothing. It merely reinforces the opinions of its audience, pitting right vs. left, whereas the true battle should be bottom vs. top. The audience seeks out opinions that it agrees with already. Do remember that the definition of a genius is a man who agrees with you about everything.

To close with something quite specific, News, Entertainment, Weather and Sports are all legitimate public interests. But I want them kept separate. Unless the result is absolutely of massive public interest, like Canada winning the gold medal in hockey, I don't ever want to see a sports story on my half hour or sixty minute newscast. I don't want to see or hear anything about Michael Jackson's kids unless I tune into or surf over to a place that features entertainment information.

Stop occupying our minds with bread and circuses. Even a circus can get boring after a while.

Here's the good news. We survived another year. That means we win. Be seeing you.

(If you'd like to read more of my commentary, my book review pages can be found Here.)

Selasa, 21 Desember 2010

Alyssa Milano and The Gift of Christmas


Inside Television 533
Publication Date: 12-24-10
By: Hubert O'Hearn

Alyssa Milano, from her mycharitywater.org page

And where will you find Christmas tonight? I suppose if your eyes are looking through lenses of belief you might find it almost anywhere. For some it will be in the sound of hymns soft as Silent Night or bold as Come All Ye Faithful. It may be in the toe of a stocking nestled next to the tangerine. Or perhaps Christmas rests its head on the pillow next to a sleeping child. It can turn snowflakes to magic and a turkey dinner into something that fills not just the stomach, but feeding the soul itself.

And sometimes – rarely and most beautifully – you don't find Christmas. It finds you.

I'll let you in on a non-secret. I wanted to dump the whole thing this year. No Christmas for me, no sir. I could find no reason to celebrate the season – not this time. The show wasn't ready to open.

Then I found something on Twitter – yes, silly little 140 character at a time Twitter – that changed my mind. And wouldn't you know, isn't the irony and the opportunity just perfect, that it has a TV connection.

I'm sure you recognize the name Alyssa Milano. You're reading a TV column, of course you recognize her name. Child star on 'Who's the Boss?' from 1984-92; adult star of 'Charmed' from 1998-2006. Movies, music, a clothing line and a fanatical devotion to baseball. A celebrity.

There are those who sneer at the modern times and the cult of celebrity. If I look back at the archives of my writing, I'm sure I can find my own contributions to the general theme of, 'I'm above all that nonsense.'

But a celebrity has an advantage, a power if you will, in the ability to make people pay attention. And when lots of people pay attention, and lots of people do one little thing sometimes all those little things become big beautiful things.

Did you know that one billion people – roughly thirty times Canada's population – don't have near access to that most basic of staples, clean water? Those that don't walk an average of three miles a day to get enough water for the day, then return the next day and the next and all the days after that until their bodies break down and they die. The result is weakness, poverty; and from that anger, hate and just not giving a damn about anything other than personal survival.

Alyssa Milano turned 38 this past Sunday and she gave the cause of water...her birthday. Through mycharitywater.org and by Tweeting the request, she asked for her fans to give to the development of clean water projects in Africa; specifically Ethiopia. And her goal of $38,000 was achieved and surpassed.

Maybe it was just the timing of it all, but I felt incredibly moved by this simple act of a good person who has earned the right to sit back, relax, and wait for the servants to peel a grape.

Maybe you won't see the relationship of this simple act to the celebration of Christmas. But I remind you that there is pretty good evidence that Jesus Christ himself was an Ethiopian, and besides which, isn't 'giving' the point of this festival of indulgence?

Take a look at the mycharitywater.org link. Do something yourself. Or do something entirely different for a whole different charity. I think, I believe, I know you'll find Christmas carefully wrapped inside your heart, waiting to be released.

Give peace a chance. Be seeing you.

Selasa, 14 Desember 2010

What to Give for Christmas?

Inside Television 532
Publication Date: 12-17-10
By: Hubert O'Hearn


You very nearly came to this space this week to find 500 words or so on the average salary ($55,000 as of 2007) of CBC employees, the resultant huff and puff of various Tory MP's ($157,000 as of 2010) and my defense of the former at the expense of the latter. But, a Thunder Bay bus driver has saved you from that dry reading.

I realized some time ago that my biggest fans are cab drivers and bus drivers. This is a good thing. 'Taxi' was one of my favourite sitcoms and Ralph Kramden one of the greatest of all comedy creations. But I was getting off the Mainline the other day when the driver asked me, 'Hey, you got something special planned for us to read for Christmas?' I of course answered, 'Yes sir!'

I of course had nothing of the sort planned. I'd thought of it certainly. For the past ten years I've done an annual Suggested Gift column with the best of TV sets, comfy chairs, boxed DVDs etc. etc. etc. A column like your morning toast and jam: easily made, easily forgotten.

But all this darn reading has gotten in the way of all that. To be perfectly honest, if it wasn't for all the reading I've done for my book reviews, I would have gone mad this year. Sincerely. Really. No exaggeration. And the reading has turned me off of consumerism. Sincerely. Really. No exaggeration there either.

You see, when you read about poverty in Africa, and struggles for survival around the world, it kind of makes what new scent of Old Spice is available just a might touch unimportant. But I am here to help, not hector or lecture.

You want to honour your loved ones with gifts. Good. Great. Lovely. Why don't you give them something different this year? – give them You. Huh?

A dear friend of mine who hates reading his name in the paper, even though he is one of the finest keyboard players this city has produced, said something interesting while we were indulging in liquid enhanced problem solving the other night. He said that because of the wretched Northwestern Ontario winter, everyone he knows is creative in some way: music, writing, drawing, crafting, woodworking, you name it. So why not do that and then give it away?

I've written my darling Kimberly a Christmas Book for this year. One of the stories is free for you to share – it can be found at thefearandloathingpage.blogspot.com. Stories, poems and essays all printed upa nd bound together. You can do the same and nobody is going to care if you're not Charles Dickens, John Cheever, or even me.

Or, if all else fails, spend two bucks and buy a blank DVD. Load it up with show clips that have made you happy, songs that have made you sing, pictures that have made you laugh, anything at all that defines who you are and who the gift recipients are to you.

There. Over. Said. Done. And if that dear person in your life was looking for a sweater, try giving a hug instead. A hug is much warmer than any sweater ever knitted. Merry Christmas to come, and to all – Be seeing you.

Selasa, 07 Desember 2010

Turn Out the Lights, The Party's Over



Inside Television 531
Publication Date: 12-10-10
By: Hubert O'Hearn
The Dream Team


It couldn't have been more than three weeks ago that I got to thinking about Don Meredith, who passed away this week of a brain hemorrhage at the age of 72. I was wondering if the man Howard Cosell nicknamed Danderoo might ever do a one-shot guest announcer appearance on one of the football broadcasts. God knows the NFL could use a little fun this year.

Yes, even the most fervent football fan – the one whose every kitchen appliance is decorated in team colours – knows that this year has been a dog. And that's even before Michael Vick starting contending for MVP honours. There are no undefeated teams, no one chasing records, the glam offensive units of San Diego, Indianapolis and New Orleans are lurching, James Harrison of the Steelers has paid more in illegal hit fines this season than you'll make in the next two years, the Dallas Cowboys killed their coach fir all the world to see, and the less said about Brett Favre and the Vikings would be a pleasant change.

Whomever wins the Super Bowl will have fans who will claim this as the bestest ever football season! The rest of us will know better and move on to the NBA or NHL.

But that was the thing about Don Meredith. He was at his best making some godawful Monday Night Football blowouts memorable. He's the first sports announcer I can remember who was truly funny. For instance, there was the famous moment during a blowout in, I think, Denver when the camera panned to a bored fan sat alone in the stands during the fourth quarter. The fan noticed the camera and instead of waving his arms like an idiot and putting on a rainbow wig, he just raised a middle finger. To which, Meredith commented, 'That means “We're Number One” Howard.' Classic.

Meredith also did not mind revealing the side of his personality that made him the rumoured (and more or less confirmed by him) of the two best football novels ever written: North Dallas 40; and Semi-Tough. Dallas was not the media centre that New York was in the 1960s, elsewise Meredith and the Dallas Cowboys would have given Broadway Joe Namath and the New York Jets a good run for the backpage party headlines.

There was the time when the Cleveland Browns brought into the game a new wide receiver, one who actually had a decent enough career. He had an unusual name: Fair Hooker. Over to you, Don. 'Ah nevah met one of those Frank.' As it would turn out 20 years later, neither did Frank Gifford when he was caught avec courtesan and landed on the front page.

ABC, or in recent years ESPN has never been able to get that magic formula of Cosell, Gifford and Meredith right again. They tried the comics, they tried the sportswriters, they came very close with Al Michaels and John Madden, but the first Monday Night Football crew was an unmatchable classic.

The final thought is what you would think it would be. The best thing about a bad game is that Meredith would essentially tell you to change the channel. Chick Hearn used to do the same kind of thing for the Los Angeles Lakers ('ladies and gentlemen, this game is in the refrigerator. The door's closed, the light's out and the butter's getting hard') but only Don Meredith would make you want to stick around to hear a southwestern baritone that poured out like the third Jack Daniels of the night:

'Turn out the lights,
The Party's over
It is time to say good night.'

Enjoy the eternal party Danderoo.

Be seeing you.

Sabtu, 04 Desember 2010

Wikileaks Agonistes



The Wikileaks Scandal:
Where Do You Draw the Line?


Politics for Joe 13


by Hubert O'Hearn
for Lake Superior News


All right, so it has been formally confirmed that Prince Andrew is a buffoon. What else is new? Quite a bit actually, and all of it is quite, quite scary.

Once the Wikileak and Guardian (q.v.) stories drawn from an immense cache of (ahem) secret American diplomatic messages were released, I knew that this was a subject that was going to require a reasonably deep analysis. For the past several years, people have been speculating on the subject of what 'new media' was going to look and feel like – such fabric ranged from kitten-soft woolies to a corduroy impossibly charged with enough static electricity to light the New York Times Building for a year.

Who was going to win out? The old media companies like the NY Times? The newer, gauche, arriviste typed like the septuagenarian Rupert Murdoch? Maybe sexy-looking and saucy web concoctions like Slate or Salon?

Turns out it's any asshole with a memory stick an d a blog with a catchy name.

Regardless of whether you view Wikileaks 'founder' Julian Assange as a Babyface or a Heel one inquiry about him can be stamped as closed. He is a lousy journalist.

Journalism is all about editing. The classic image is of the harried and balding city desk man two coney dogs away from a terminal heart attack, slashing away at copy with a red marker, or red highlighting on a pdf as it were. All true, but there is also editing at the point of attack. The individual writer, producer, reporter is self-editing constantly. In the simplest case, in a scrum, the politician will glance at you once. You will get to ask one question. You can think of 15. Which one will you pick?

That's editing on the front-line.

But Assange didn't do any of that. Like the Hollywood scandal sheets (e.g. Confidential) of years gone by, Wikileaks has just published everything slipped to it, raw as meat cut fresh from the slaughterhouse knife.

And that's my problem with it.

Whether or not Assange is captured, prosecuted and sentenced to Devil's Island – or Terrace Bay ON – with only a Commodore 64 at his disposal for communication, it really doesn't matter. Now that he has shown the way to fame and a happy happy joy joy fleeting moment of briefly being The Biggest Story in The World, there will be more imitators than the hydra had heads.

At least the Guardian, my favourite newspaper in the world had the decency to organize the stories, release them with informed commentary, and add the codicil that 'just because Wikileaks is reporting this, its not necessarily true.'

Because – dear God – what if in the middle of all these officially acknowledged as real communications, what if Wikileaks had put out one that was absolutely false. Imagine this headline:

Wikileaks Reports U.S. to Cease Israeli Support: Cites Long-Range Oil Demands as Rationale

Who would believe the denial?

Much of the Wikileaks, er, leaks can be defended on a public right to know. For instance, why in hell is a buffoon like Prince Andrew on the public payroll? Surely there must be a gentleman's private club in London willing to pay for a Prince of the Realm to sit in an armchair and spout silly things in a shout ignored by the card players.

That's all fine.

But if you accept the general notion that a nuclear-armed North Korea run by dictators madder than anything Lewis Carroll ever imagined, then the leak that China was thinking about tossing Pyongyang into the Sea of Japan and cleansing its hands of a client state, well, that leak should make you seriously question the idea of need to know v. wan t to know.

If the story is correct, there is not a chanced that China will now follow through with the abandonment. One truly cannot imagine a greater loss of face than a supposed private communication on a delicate matter … BEING SPLASHED ACROSS THE INTERNET! And so the world will sleep a little more uneasily tonight.

This is the most fruitless proposition I will ever put forward, but I truly beg anyone like Julian Assange who is surreptitiously passed sensitive inform ation, please in the name of humanity, think before you publish.

Be seeing you.

Rabu, 01 Desember 2010

Story of a Brain Injury - CTV's W5



Inside Television 530
Publication Date: 12-03-10
By: Hubert O'Hearn


Those who know me well, or at least regularly follow this space, will understand why I am choosing a particular program to promote this week. I hope that it won't prove a disappointment that I'm not writing about a Christmas special, although as this is a story about will and family and love I do like to think that it matches this season's purported themes.

This Saturday evening and repeated again on Sunday afternoon across the full CTV network, W5's Sandie Rinaldo will tell you the story of Captain Trevor Green. Whilst serving in Afghanistan in 2006, was blind-sided with an axe-blow to the head during what was supposed to have been a routine meeting with village elders. He wasn't killed, but was left with a massive amount of brain damage.

There is no real telling how an injury to one area of the brain or another will affect a person. The old story is absolutely true of a railroad foreman being felled by a spike driven through his skull yet got up and proceeded to yell orders and lead a normal life afterwards; or as normal as one can be with a doughnut hole through the cranium. On the other hand, lobotomies which were performed in the 1940s through the 1960s on the 'uncontrollably mentally ill' with the intent of only slightly dulling the patient's energy often left dull and empty shells where once there stood a man or a woman.

In the case of Captain Green, the axe did not sever his personality nor his will. You see, Green was engaged to Debbie Lepore and damn it, he was going to walk that aisle and stand for that ceremony.

It took four years. I'm not really giving away an ending here; television rarely features noble failures. But the story of Trevor Green's recovery is one that – well, I hope you never have to live through anything similar but if you do, you will be much the better off for the knowledge.

A brain injury is unlike any other illness or physical malady. Improvement and recovery is measured in inches, not in feet. I've recovered from open heart surgery and relatively one is leaping about like a stag from bed to chair, chair to hall and once around the floor. No, a brain injury is inches; it is syllable by syllable, thought by thought, and one second more of memory than there was yesterday, last week, last month, or last year.

As a tale of will and a demonstration of the massive amounts of therapy, community and family support required to assist the patient back into a world with a goal of love, I don;t know how this story can fail to move your hearts.

Be seeing you.

Sabtu, 27 November 2010

Copyright and the Right to Copy



Copyright and the Right to Copy

Politics for Joe 12

by Hubert O'Hearn
for Lake Superior News

For curiousity's sake, I wonder how many readers know what legislative language actually looks like. In relation to the government's Bill C32, amending the Copyright Act, the following is how Parliament describes what you or I know as “a band putting out a CD”:

  1. to make a sound recording of it available to the public by telecommunication in a way that allows a member of the public to have access to the sound recording from a place and at a time individually chosen by that member of the public and to communicate the sound recording to the public by telecommunication in that way;

It is for this reason that no Canadian Member of Parliament will never, ever be seen on stage doing a guest shot with the Tragically Hip.

That was a fairly cheap joke taken at a serious issue, but Copyright Law is dry enough to turn an ocean into a beach, so one must squeeze in the entertainment where one can. This week, a Murderer's Row of Canadian writers from Atwood to Yann Martel signed a letter printed as an ad in the Usual Prominent Dailies protesting C32. So what's the beef?

Right at the outset, I do want the reader to know that C32 is a sincere attempt by the Harper government to manage an issue that may well just be unmanageable in the internet age. A computer expert I used to work with told me a basic truth: Anything that can be displayed on a computer screen can be copied. It can be easy, it can be hard, but it can be done. And the issues flow out of the cracks of that truth sneak into all facets of Canadian life. Here are two of the many questions that the Bill writers had to deal with:

  1. Because rights of unauthorized reproduction can so easily be broken, an artist's only hopes of being paid royalties are payments made by legitimate organizations that are legally obligated to make honest reporting to scrutinizing authorities. Yes, like schools. So, should schools and their boards (and ultimately you the ratepayer) pay additional copyright fees for material which the students can find for free on their own?
  2. To at least take a stand against unauthorized reproduction, one method would be to effectively insert spyware into every possible piece of copyrighted material (pretty hard to do in the case of text) monitoring its usage. You share – you're busted. You disable the spyware code – you're busted. Do you have a problem with that, honest citizen?

Such choices would send Solomon running for the wine cellar. And I have to give an honest thumb's up to Harper for even making an attempt at a solution. They don't have to, you know. And this is not an issue that will swing a single seat in a federal election.

Yet, it is an issue that does directly or indirectly involve every citizen of this country. I invite the reader to do a little personal research and develop your own position. However, I do suggest that whatever Bill is passed by the Canadian or any other legislature, it will be seen as a laughable antique Tinker Toy construction within two years.

Broadly stated, media has become the most pluralistic industry in the world. A million and more individual producers of words, music and film all hoping to catch a wave and 'go viral' thus making a whack of money from advertising. As such, it is quite possible that by restricting access and reproduction in any way, governments are choking back the one thing artists need to thrive: the greatest reach to the greatest number.

So am I therefore advocating tossing Copyright into the bin? No. For the large media production companies will continue to exist, have the loudest voice and pay their dues and royalties. Their market share will just continue dipping. The biggest network five years from now may be as big as PBS is today, but that is still pretty big. As well, one must have success stories in the arts in order to offer artists some objective rationale for what they do. So those who can pay, should; those who can earn, should be protected.

But as the final trades and positions are being staked, I do remind the government and the reader that sometimes the old saw, 'he who governs least governs best' still applies.

Be seeing you.

Hubert O'Hearn
for Lake Superior News

(If you enjoyed this, I also invite you to read and share my Christmas Story for 2010, created to be enjoyed and shared by all families here. - H)