Chagal4's Blog

Why do we let them get away with it? I don’t know how many stories I’ve read in the media over the past few years where the reporter…or editor insisted on telling us that a source spoke “on the condition of anonymity” or my favourite…”source cannot be named because he/she is not authorized to speak” or just plain “source not authorized to speak”. What is this? We’re supposed to depend on the integrity of the diligent reporter who risked some sort  of danger to seduce this “source” into revealing the facts of the matter? What fucking source?” It’s getting really annoying. Where were all these diligent reporters and their unauthorized sources when the gossip capital of the free world on Wall Street were planning on gutting the global economy? This isn’t Julie Assange territory. This is just do-your-job-and-tell-us-what’s-going-on journalism.

There are two possibilities (among many, maybe)that spring to mind…one is dead simple and the other more complex. The simple version goes like this. A reporter is sitting in a bar frequented by police, politicians, bankers, lawyers, hookers and other reporters. Did I mention bureaucrats from all directions? no…well they’re never authorized to speak so they have to be included. These are all “sources” and our reporter listens carefully…maybe buys a few drinks and turns on the pocket recorder. Having secretly recorded the source they cannot now admit this illegal activity and they roll out the old “source not authorized etc.” Even simpler, as we’ve seen with some fairly high profile magazine stories, is the ghost source. No, it’s not a source who recently became departed. It’s no source at all. Actually I have a little sympathy for the reporters who do this shit. It’s hugely risky so it requires creativity and balls. Given that our media has become so fond of the profits from propaganda…I think these reporters, who may have done good research before they wrote a good fiction…deserve some credit. And if truth is stranger than fiction…maybe fiction is truer than truth…certainly more truthful than some of the “not authorized” crap we’re fed by government and corporate shills.

The more complicated situation requires more understanding of mass media and where the money goes. Or rather where the money comes from. Subscribers haven’t paid the whole bill since never. Advertisers pay the bills. When print media was much bigger, back in the day, a lot of advertising dollars flowed through the doors. This offered a number of advantages that were good for all of us. A wide variety of advertisers insured that no single group of interests could control or overly influence editorial policy…At least they were easier to resist. It also meant that there was more money to pay “hard” reporters to pursue tough stories. These were journalists who were loathe to use those weasel words…”not authorized to speak”, yet they still found ways to tell the story, verify facts and avoid exposing valuable sources. Now the corporate legal departments want that extra caveat…bogus as it may be. These days advertisers spread their money around, T.V. the internet, print media…and oh yes…”product placement” in movies. (You thought Omega got that watch on James Bond’s wrist for free?). That all means much less revenue for print media…and even for the new divisions of T.V. networks. And these corporate heavy weights have become organs of political and corporate propaganda…and editorial policy often follows a pretty obvious line at election time. Many big newspapers have abandoned investigative journalism altogether. It’s expensive, the stories take a lot of time and travel to cover…the issues are often big enough to be surrounded by lawyers and vested interests in powerful places. Now we have generations of “multi facetted” journalists fresh out of journalism school suffering their first tragic defeats at the hands of cynical, brutal, bitter and occasionally corrupted editors. Who are these people? They think we want to know about the Kardashians…about Bruce Jenner (From a jock to a thong…what could go wrong?) No wonder they can’t name a source…and every time we read that shit we should toss the paper into the sky because the whole story is unreliable.

So what? Well…so, whomever IS able to authorize should be the source. And if they won’t talk, name them and shame them…”Jim says we’re not supposed to know” . O.K. don’t publish the story…or make it clear that some totalitarian regimes, corporate or government prefer to operate in secret. Be up front…say “we can’t tell you the full story or somebody will get killed” They must be able to come up with some suitable buzz words to cover that concept. Oh wait…they already have…

“source not authorized to speak”

O.K. some days I wake up and my face feels older than my body. I have to be extra careful shaving and the mirror isn’t kind either. It leaves me miserable all day. But then I think…tomorrow…I’ll just skip the shaving altogether. This is the condensation of optimism.

As we enter 2016 I’m searching for the laughter. I can’t follow a cynicism that takes Donald Trump seriously…or imagines that Bashir Assad will suddenly have a change of heart. I don’t believe the Saudis are any worse than the NRA but they both belong on a small island with no running water. ISIS was an ancient goddess whose name is being taken in vain…and she will punish. Arms dealers are a blight upon our souls. Child soldiers are just retribution for ignorance, poverty and our past sins. Drive-by shootings are not misguided youthful indiscretions.

There is a new world war…it’s happening on our streets…we call it crime. It’s not…it’s poverty versus privilege. Privilege appears to be winning because the poor keep shooting the poor. China watches. The media bugs phones and hacks e-mails and sells advertising. It periodically lies on behalf of its sponsors. We accept self-censorship in the name of political correctness in the hope that our children will not be racists. Our determination to be fit begins at our feet and ends at our necks. Every day we pee in fresh water and flush it while millions around the world wash their hands with sand. We assume the luxury of  applause for the movie we call life. We shouldn’t. People think the “good old days” were better than this. They’re wrong. The same people think that things are going to get worse. They’re probably right.

The one fact that is rarely discussed about global warming…is that it’s almost always followed by an ice age. Remember those stories about woolly mammoths being found frozen solid with a mouth full of buttercups…let me say that again…frozen solid with a mouth full of buttercups!…O.K. one minute you’re munching wild-flowers with bees buzzing around your head and the next minute you’re a block of ice and you didn’t even have time to swallow the last bite. I live in a place where it was eight degrees and raining yesterday and minus fifteen this morning and I was scraping a quarter inch of ice off my windshield…I understand flash freezing…but I can’t imagine whatever it was that hit those mammoths.

When I was little I thought banks were places where you put your money to sleep and earn a little interest while we thought of using it for something stupid. My parents lived through the great depression. They knew better. One of my uncles learned that I lived outside the law sometimes…urged me to rob a bank. Any bank would do, he said. I didn’t…and still regret that I couldn’t do that for him.

Even in war zones people get up in the morning, kiss their kids and go off to work…sometimes dodging sniper lanes. They do mundane things…do the laundry, take the garbage out, look for groceries, talk to neighbours, laugh at jokes…hope tomorrow will be better, easier. People keep going. Make love, get sick, get well, grow old…get fed up with it all. There ought to be a day set aside every year when we can all look at each other, smile and hug and slap each other on the back. We should congratulate each other for putting up with it all. We could call it Humanity Day.

Our society is held together by trust, faith, hope and fear. The role of propaganda in this equation cannot be over estimated…because neither trust nor faith nor hope nor fear have anything to do with facts. Well you know…today’s fact is tomorrow’s “Maybe-not-so-much”. Hmm…culture is the collection of concepts that define our society…describes us…our music, our art, our dance, our architecture, our literature, our eduction, our food, our religions, our relationships…our guns, our knives, our armies, our enemies. Get it? Even if we don’t know who we are…others do.

So for me 2016 is a year to look for laughter, for absurdity…to find humour in the ridiculous. And tomorrow I’m going to skip the shaving…This is the condensation of optimism.

David Bowie died today. R.I.P.

It’s New Year’s day…snow flurries in a black and white world. Up early, I greeted the world with mixed enthusiasms. 2016, I’m happy to be be here…not so joyful about the state of the world.  My man Bob was out on his porch watching the flakes drifting out of the sky. A couple of years ago I wasn’t sure that Bob would see 2015 through. But there he was, a little shorter, a lot slower, and I think still grieving the loss of that part of himself that loved to smoke those horrid cigars. He takes it one day at a time now…warm days, he’s on his bench minding the street…might walk a block or two. And he’s as chatty as he ever was…which is to say that he never was and today I got a nod and a smile that cheered the frayed edges of my prosecco mini hangover. There’s a life lesson in Cigar Bob and it’s one that lives outside and away from him. Sometimes life beats on a person, as it did on Bob…and sometimes it seems to keep on beating on a person. For some that’s the end of the story. For others…one day the cloud lifts enough to let some sunshine in. Sometimes that’s enough to keep the story going. One day in the summer I asked Bob’s son…a fella who’s not looking too well himself…how Bob was doing. He just smiled and said,

“Bob’s O.K.”, and that was good enough for me.

Seeing him this morning I was going to ask what he thought of 2015. It doesn’t matter though. 2015 was yesterday. It will linger until 2016 looks a lot like a twin…but for now I don’t want to look over my shoulder.

For those of you who are young there’s this to know about older people. One year looks a lot like any other. That doesn’t mean that we don’t enjoy them…doesn’t even mean that there aren’t any differences. It’s matter of perspective. Personally, I count on young people to keep one year from BEING like any other. So far they’re doing a fine job…I do wish they’d hang up the fucking guns though.

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