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I’ve already lamented the demise of the once-delightful Column One feature on the front page of the Los Angeles Times. And I feel that I’ve dissected more than my tolerable share of articles by Mitchell Landsberg, the LAT‘s recently new scribe on the Godbeat; add to that Mollie’s commentary yesterday on Landsberg’s Vatican coverage.
Year after year, election after election, South Carolina politics delivers the goods — if you like watching a combination of mud wrestling and demolition auto racing.
Years ago, the features editors at The Oklahoman decided they wanted a fresh take on “The Nutcracker.” So they asked someone who had never gone to the ballet to attend and write a review of the holiday classic. That someone — me — wrote a generally positive review filled with witty observations that I am certain would have merited a scathing review on GetBallet.org (if such a site existed).
I guess it’s still news to reporters that people go on websites and post comments anonymously. If it’s on the Internet, it must be true, right? The xkcd cartoon on the right sums up the reality of the Internet: there’s always something to be fixed.
I know that it will be painful, but think back for a moment to earlier posts about the young mother Ria Ramkissoon and the death of her infant son, Javon Thompson. The child was starved to death because he kept refusing to say “amen” after the prayers during meals in the bizarre religious community that his mother had joined in Baltimore.
Every reporter has his off days. I have to think that’s what happened with this story, which ran on page 1 of Jacksonville’s Florida Times-Union. Written by an award-winning religion reporter, Jeff Brumley, the piece seems to take an almost personal interest in disparaging evangelicals. It’s kind of odd. Here’s the headline:
Anyone who has followed this weblog for very long knows that, from the get-to, we have been rather upset that legions of reporters insist on ignoring the wise guidance offered by the Associate Press Stylebook concerning when to use, and when not to use, the hot-button label “fundamentalist.”
It would be an understatement of epic proportions to say that Baltimore is slightly obsessed with the Ravens, its NFL franchise in the tortured era after the sinful betrayal that cost the city the Colts.
If I never had to read another story about the Westboro Baptist Church and its “staged-for-media hatefests” — as Tmatt so aptly described the congregation’s protests last month — I just might make my own sign. “Thank God for small blessings,” it would read. Or something like that.
