Breaking News

That headline enticed you, didn’t it?

I usually associate big ass fonts with breaking news that changed history, like the moon landingKennedy’s assassination, or Obama’s victory.  Websites like the Huffington Post and Drudge Report demean the importance of the big headline.  They have low standards for what is considered huge news.

This was the Huffington Post’s front page today:

Are politicians going to work as equivalent as the man landing on the moon?  Yes, according to the Huff.

Here’s one from the dreaded Drudge Report:

I know bad news sells, but this is old bad news.  I remember Obama saying the economy was getting worse last month.  I wonder if Drudge used this headline more than once.

Sensationalism isn’t new in news media, but it also seems like more news outlets are trying to “break” more news to attract more viewers.  The Fox News Channel loves to keep the red “NEWS ALERT” graphic on their screen all the time, which feels like a light version of “BREAKING NEWS.”  CNN also likes to post the “BREAKING NEWS” graphic for the same story all day long, especially during the Situation Room and Anderson Cooper 360.

As with all discussions about news media, who’s fault is it?  Who are the idiots?  The media or the people consuming the news?  I’ll take the easy way out and say it’s everyone.  We’re all A.D.D. idiots.

Caroline Kennedy is Not Princess Leia

Not a Skywalker

Not a Skywalker

Readers Digest titled a column written by Carl M. Cannon, “Caroline Kennedy As America’s Princess Leia.”  Being a medium-level Star Wars fan (not a fanboy, I repeat, not a fanboy), I was intrigued by the title.  How is Caroline Kennedy like Princess Leia?  Is she a feisty woman who can stick up for herself?  Does she have amazing accuracy with a gun?  Is she a rebel attempting to transport secret space station plans?  Did she boink Harrison Ford? No, according to Cannon.  The only mention of a Kennedy-Leia comparison is a short tag at the end of his faux-biographical piece:

John [F. Kennedy] did not survive that summer, his death being yet another cruel blow to his only sibling, sister Caroline. I was reminded recently of a fateful scene in Star Wars—the movie, not the nuclear defense shield.  Yoda, the Jedi master, is ruminating with Obi-Wan Kenobi about young Luke Skywalker, another Crown Prince whose enthusiasms as a pilot sometimes outweigh his good judgment—and who has a sister of his own.

“Reckless is he,” says Yoda. “Now, matters are worse.”
“That boy is our last hope,” says Obi-Wan.
“No,” replies Yoda. “There is another.”

That is a horrible analogy.  There’s actually more than one bad analogy.  I think it’s pretty obvious that Luke Skywalker is nothing like JFK.  You know what I’m talking about, right?  I would give you a funny hint, but that’s just too morbid.  The real bad analogy is Cannon suggesting that Caroline Kennedy is the one that can save us all from evil.  That’s only believable if Cannon was able to tell why Kennedy is the one, but he doesn’t.  Nowhere in his essay does he discuss Kennedy’s policy stances and political achievments.  He just waxes about the Kennedy name and how her candidacy for Hillary Clinton’s Senate seat brings back the memories of Camelot.  Carl M. Cannon, you wasted my time with an empty essay with a stupid analogy.  You’re an idiot.

Reader’s Digest: Caroline Kennedy As America’s Princess Leia

Photo by Rubenstein, (CC)-by

Matthew Miller Doesn’t Make Sense

Do you remember that scene from the movie Big where Tom Hank’s character, Josh, is watching a presentation about a new toy robot that turns into a skyscraper?  His comment was, “I don’t get it.”  The presenter angrily retorts, “What don’t you get?”  Josh then explains that the toy isn’t effectively a toy.  There’s nothing fun about it.  It fails as a toy.  I feel like that with Matthew Miller’s latest op-ed piece in the Washington Post.  There’s nothing persuasive about it.  Matthew Miller is an idiot op-ed writer.

Miller’s argues that presidential staff should sign contracts that would prevent them from selling tell-all books about the inner workings of the White House.  The op-ed is a convoluted and badly written mess because nowhere in the piece does Miller explain why such an act is wrong, immoral, or unethical.  He simply assumes that everyone knows why “betrayal” by staff members is bad and never gives us a clear, logical rational to the consequences of tell-all books.

Miller does a decent job of stating his argument: “But if the next president really wants to transform the culture of Washington, he’ll go further and close down another revolving door: the ability of top aides to cash in by peddling tales of what they saw.”  Unfortunately, Miller never concretely explains how “peddling tales” negatively effects the culture of Washington.  He spends the rest of the essay talking about past aides that sold their stories, using words like “betrayal,” “ethics,” and “taint,” (hehe…taint) and spelling out metaphors involving mergers, marriages, and celebrities.

Maybe Miller wants us to figure out for ourselves the ethical dilemma of selling personal stories involving the president.  However, argumentative writing is not just about persuading the audience, but informing us as well.  Miller doesn’t really inform us about the ethical dilemma, but just rants about how this vague dilemma should stop.  Miller also irrationally argues that since celebrities keep their maids and housekeepers quiet with confidentiality agreements, then the president should be able to do the same.  My instant thought was that celebrities aren’t public officials.  They should be able to keep their lives private.  Presidential business is the business of an open, democratic government.  Government staff should be able to express their personal stories and thoughts about working in the White House, barring any danger to national security.  It’s part of the historical narrative.  If our history is only written by the president, it deprives us from multiple perspectives.

If Miller wants to improve his persuasiveness, he should clearly write out a logical line of reasoning about how tell-all books about presidential business is wrong.  Who does it hurt, other than the president?  Why is it an ethical breach?  Which ethical values are being violated, other than trust?  If trust is breached, why is that bad?  Are they any positive outcomes to disclosure?  What are some examples of negative outcomes to tell-all books?  These are all questions posed by Miller’s essay that are left unanswered.  In the end, Miller leaves a reader, like me, more confused than informed.