Others are Ranting

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The web has always been a place for sharing rants, and now we can do it with instantaneous results.

No, I’m not going to add (much) to the cacophony about Kevin Smith and Southwest Airlines, other than to say that his fame certainly juiced the attention to the cause. His rant is one of an outsider, who rails against conspiracies and things he does not understand. Most of our ranting, whether it be about sports or politics or economics, is the ravings of an outsider.

When you get an insider’s view of events, then you’re in for a treat.

I’ve written quite a bit about my former career in television news, and if you click around on the Television and Broadcasting tags here you’ll find a number of entries where I’ve taken the news-folk to task for being lazy or just plain dumb. I can do that, because I’ve walked in their shoes, and know what they could be doing instead of what they put on the air.

There are others ranting, though. Like this network insider who knows the Snowpocalypse coverage is overblown, and the inherent hypocrisy in the way it is delivered. The Social Web gives us instant publishing capabilities, allowing us to share these insider perspectives in safe and anonymous ways.

This isn’t anything new, however. Sure, it’s cheap when others are hosting. And a site like “The Daily Rundown” can get a larger audience today, with more people online and more people aware that such inside dirt is being dished. But the online rants go back more than a decade.

Over the next several weeks, I’ll be sharing (with permission) the rants of Michael Carpenter. I first got to know him in an online forum where broadcast journalists would meet to talk about storytelling, the craft, how to get a job, and how to survive in the industry. By the time I got to know “mcarp,” he was already done and gone. But he had his very own website, which in 1998 was cool! And he wrote openly and honestly about the world of broadcast news, which was even more cool! And he pulled no punches, which was the coolest part of all.

Sadly, his site has been through several revisions and the “mcarp Institute for Situational Journalism Ethics” is no more. But I saved his essays, which are still as valid and relevant today.

Michael Carpenter, you taught me that it was okay to be Howard Beale. How our nation would have been better served if we had remembered Howard Beale and what he stood for.

Stay tuned. The mcarp essays are coming.

Taking the Long View

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(the following is mine and mine alone, and does not in any way reflect opinions or viewpoints of my employer.)

I understand when people get on indignant rants. You see something that is so clear to you, and you just feel like verbally slapping a few people across the cheek to wake them up, so they can see what is so plainly in front of their faces.

However, the Indignant Rant often reveals the boundaries of one’s concern. When I was a reporter, I recall many people who would call and berate me for not giving ________ more time and attention than it was getting. “But you don’t see, if they name Mr. So-and-so to the committee, it will mean the end of civilization as we know it!”

Okay, their lips weren’t foretelling the end of Western Civilization, but their body tics, tremors, and voice inflection certainly did. It was classic fight or flight, and it’s definitely not what our bodies evolved as a proper response to our anguish over the makeup of the school textbook committee.

The Whiffle Life

P.J. O’Rourke – in his classic Parliament of Whores, calls this the “Whiffle Life.”

My friend’s kid lives in a well-padded little universe, a world with no sharp edges or hard surfaces. It’s the Whiffle Ball again. The kid leads a Whiffle Life, and so does my friend and so do I.

The premise is that we’ve dumbed down our existence and taken the risk out of so many things, that we’ve literally knocked evolution for a loop. Some of us (in the modern, industrialized West) live in a world where our mistakes have virtually no consequences for survival. You can screw up often, and the worst that happens is you get a little unpleasantness. Much in the same way that a thrown baseball can hurt, so we replace them with Whiffle Balls instead.

When you live in a Whiffle World, you don’t worry about being eaten by hyenas, you worry about whether pets are spayed and neutered.

When you live in a Whiffle World, you don’t worry about your teeth rotting out, you worry about whether they are white enough.

When you live in a Whiffle World, you don’t worry about having access to safe drinking water, you fret over whether it’s the right flavor or brand.

When you live in a Whiffle World, you watch the thermometer like a hawk because of Global Warming, and doom the planet to extinction.

History in an Icicle

Yes, this is the Indignant Rant that reveals the boundaries of my concern. I happen to think that human beings are wonderful creatures, and we have shown an amazing capacity for creating beauty and hope. I also worry that in trying to preserve our accomplishments, we’re squinting at the tiny and ignoring the very real, big threats to everything we know.

I want you to look at this graph by J. Storrs Hall. It’s taken from a Greenland ice core:

Yes, that is indicative of temperatures increasing. But notice they’ve been going up since the 1830s. You could try to tie this to industrialization, but remember, this is just one sample from one location. What I want to do is change your perspective for a moment. Let’s roll back even further:

It would seem that 1000 years ago, we were warmer than we are now. But that’s not enough of a Big Picture.

Go back a little over 10,000 years, and look at where we were. Ice Age. Pay attention to that little uptick at the end that so many people are getting all frothed about. Watch where it goes when we dial the Wayback Machine to 50,000 years ago:

That tiny little tick mark at the end of that line, which is smaller than each of the commas in this sentence, is the danger? Seriously? Pay attention to the scale at the left of the graph. We’re looking at temperatures 10-25 degress Celsius cooler than what we have now. Human civilization, and agriculture, and iPods could not have emerged before now. And what makes you think we could survive when it does get cold again? Switching to the Vostok core in the Antarctic, we see this:

Where is that 150-year rise at the end, again?

Cultural Arrogance

I’m fairly certain, that even if the planet heats up a little more, that we could adapt. People along coastlines move a little inland. Arable farmland actually increases, so we’d be better able to feed the masses.

What worries me is that in concentrating on this tiny epoch of time, we ignore the real threat. It’s clear from the graphs that we live in an epoch that is an anomaly. Yet we pretend as though nothing ever happened before recorded history.

Every time someone shows you one of those pictures of a glacier from 150 years ago, ask them: “And just what is the optimal climate for the Earth?” They can’t tell you. But for some reason, the Arrogant Anointed have decided that the Earth is supposed to be exactly the way it was when their great-grandparents moved to Martha’s Vineyard. Or when their daddy was sworn into the Senate. It is foolish to believe the Earth is not in a constant state of flux.

There are people who believe God created the world 6,000 years ago. I am not one of them, and boy would I be pissed off if a bunch of them started crafting public policy that would wreck the economy, based on their belief that the world ought to be Eden, and Eden started the moment they opened their eyes and started drinking Enfamil.

There used to be astronomers who believed in the Steady-State Theory, that stars and matter must be continually created to fill the void left behind, as galaxies move away from each other. (Doppler red-shift tells us galaxies are all moving away.) Not as many do, because it requires a belief in spontaneous creation of matter.

And here we are today, with environmentalists who cling to the belief that our planet, the way it is today, is the way it has always been and ought to always be. They have absolutely nothing to base that belief upon. And in a way, they deserve even more scorn for that belief than the traditionalists who tout a 6,000 year world history.

I’m all for being a good steward of the environment, but before we wreck the global economy chasing a fantasy about a steady-state Earth, how about putting some research dollars into the threat we know is coming? How does man survive when it gets too cold? Are we going to move out and find new sources of food? Look for hospitable worlds elsewhere? We have the time and the resources to do it, if we don’t starve ourselves to death on granola and pray to Gaia as the ice envelopes us.

Fire From the Sky

Forget about how we’re overdue for an Ice Age for a moment. We know we’ve got at least a thousand years or so to lick that problem.

What about a comet strike? Or a sufficiently large meteorite?

In 1908, a piece of a comet nailed a remote section of Russia. It created an explosion and a mushroom cloud, and wiped out everything for miles around. If we didn’t know any better, it would have been called a nuclear bomb. In fact, it’s a good thing we didn’t know any better, because if it had happened 50 or 60 years later, the world would have been glowing from the remains of retaliatory strikes before anyone bothered to figure out it was a natural occurrence.

But what if the Tunguska comet had been larger?

Make it larger by a factor of 10, and it would have rocked the world. Make it even bigger, and it could wipe out nearly all intelligent life on the planet.

So while we’re dickering with Mars missions and Moon missions and all manner of foolishness, we’re ignoring the very real instant threat to civilization. (And that means all the puppies will die, too. And the Black Eyed Peas.) We’re investing next to nothing in discovering or tracking the large objects that sweep into near-Earth orbits. We’re investing even less in researching technologies that would allow us to alter their orbits, or even explode them remotely where they would pose less of a threat.

I’m talking about something that could strike tomorrow. Or a year from now. That’s the Indignant Rant that keeps me up at night.

The Big Picture

We’ll solve the plastics problem, and the Styrofoam problem, and the nuclear waste problem. We’ll figure out how to leave cleaner and meaner and smarter, because we’re humans and that’s what we’ve done for 10,000 years. Occasionally, in the middle of miles of steps forward, we take one or two back. That’s okay, because we learn from those missteps.

Or at least we do, when we bother to look back with enough perspective.

Angles Are Everything

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Peyton Manning is a nice guy, with a self-deprecating and healthy sense of humor.

But man, he looked positively evil on the sidelines of the Super Bowl. Some people started referring to him as ”Satan Manning.”

Now, is he an intense competitor? Yes.

You think he might have been frustrated by taking only six snaps in the entire second quarter, then waiting through “CSI: Halftime,” then not getting the ball to start the second half after the Saints executed a brilliant onside kick? Yes, yes, and yes.

But the “evil” that seeps through the photo and wants to tear out your liver is a function of the angle.

Take a look at these pictures of the very same Elmo party hat.

The angle makes all the difference in the world, doesn’t it?

Elmo is an iconic symbol of acceptance and peace. His inquisitive nature instantly rings true with children, who recognize their own yearning to learn about the world around them. The fact that the party hat could appear evil must therefore be strictly a function of visual tricks, and the angle of perspective creating an optical illusion.

My son used to adore Elmo, and as far as we can tell it had no deleterious effects on him.

There is nothing inherently evil about Elmo.

Or is there?

Well, maybe I ought to re-think letting my son hang out with Peyton Manning when he grows up, too.

(content partially adapted from material at my old blog, with my permission.)

Symbolic Statements

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We live in an age where information is too available. We have more facts than we can assimilate or use, and very little context.

One of the ways we manage to transmit all of this information comes from research done in “packing” of information. How much can we compress data, then “unpack” it later without appreciable loss?

I won’t go into that as a deep dive now, don’t worry. But it is something to consider, especially when “packing” of data means that individual pieces now mean multiple things depending upon what is around them.

The other day, I saw a license plate. Maybe it’s indicative that I spend too much time playing with letters and numbers and glyphs in my brain, but almost immediately I saw how close this was to spelling out a word (and a word that I wouldn’t want either of my kids repeating.)

Do you see it? Because the thought that came to mind for me was feeling sorry for the person two places ahead in line. They likely got this plate:

There.

Does that make it easier to see?

Do I have to spell it out now?

What happens is our brains decode the curves and lines based on context. When we expect to see letters, we see letters. When we expect to see numbers, we see numbers.

And when we’re accustomed to looking at words, the quickest glance will force our brains attempt to fit those shapes into the anticipated context.

Here, try this one.

See it now?

I feel sorry for that person.

One of the ironies here is that if you tried to go and get that specific combination as a vanity plate, you would be suspiciously grilled as to your motive. They would want to know exactly what it means.

Yet, through the power of spontaneous decoding, the state of Alabama has inadvertently called an innocent motorist a “sphincter.”

Who knows? Maybe they’re right.

Or maybe ugliness lies in the eye of the beholder.

I Got Served

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Thanks to the internet, anyone and everyone now has a search-engine friendly way to gripe about some perceived injustice. So let me say Thanks, which doesn’t happen often enough.

I recently attended a crisis training in New Orleans, at the Marriott on Canal Street. (Yes, it is smack in the middle of the French Quarter, and no, I had neither the time nor the warm weather to get around and sightsee.)

A couple of things cemented for me that the Marriott is doing customer service right, all the way down to the bottom.

Midway through the first morning, I realized I had been using my phone to take a lot of notes. Considering I didn’t have to drag a laptop, it was rather nice. But I knew that I would run my charge all the way down by early evening, and I wanted to keep some charge on it. So during a break I went back to my room to grab the charger.

When I got there, a staff member was in the middle of cleaning my room. I smiled, said hello, and went to get my charger. She politely stopped me, and asked me for my key. I obliged, and watched as she tried it in the door to ensure that I really belonged in this room.

That’s the first time I’ve been checked like that, and I was ecstatic she took the time and trouble. And I thanked her.

When I got back that evening, I was in for an even bigger surprise.

Everything In Its Place

She had cleaned the area around my sink, including my deodorant and toothbrush. And I found all of my personal toiletries placed nicely on a washcloth.

That was completely unexpected, and while some people might be concerned that a stranger “touched their things,” I was happy she was diligent enough about it that she wanted the room to meet her standards. Her standards dictate that the sink is clean. And that my things are organized. (My dirty clothes were left in the chair, untouched.)

She didn’t have to do it. There was no expectation that she would. But she did.

Across the board, everyone from the concierge staff to the porter were amazing and friendly. And it would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge it publicly.

As for the rest you in the hospitality industry, you are on notice. The bar for grabbing my attention has been raised. I won’t expect treatment like this every time, but rest assured I will notice it.

So wow me.

Content Is King! Long Live the King!

Content is king.

It started with a Tweet by Jeremy Meyers, that said the following:

“Ironically, content about how “Content is King” is not an example of good content.”

I responded with:

“If Content were King, then Pink would have stayed dry.”

I was referring, of course, to Pink’s performance at the Grammy Awards, where she sang partially suspended and spinning in the air, then was dipped in a pool of water, where she came up spinning dripping and still singing pitch-perfect.

It was stunning.

It is also a clear example, to me, of where you can draw a significant line between Content and Presentation.

Her song is the same, whether she sings it in a studio, on stage, or in an S&M harness. What differs is the Presentation.

If there were no difference between Content and Presentation, then Iron Chef would not have points for “plating.” It’s a different experience, one that is separate from the content.

My blog engine – WordPress – makes a significant distinction between Content and Presentation. I’ve changed themes a few times in the last three years – but the content remains the same.

That’s why this post seems a little naked – I’ve taken much of the Presentation away.

It’s a very different experience. Yet my words are the same. My argument stands just as valid on its face – exactly the way it would appear in most RSS readers.

Yet here – through the Presentation of this one post – I have communicated more about the difference between Content and Presentation.

Content is King – but Presentation can make it more palatable. Style without Substance will leave you lacking. Substance with no Style will send the readers packing.

Long live the King!

Out and About

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From Zoer on Flickr

Last year, I did a bit of traveling and speaking. While it’s been nice to share, it’s also nice to learn a little. For the next few weeks I’ll be doing a bit of both.

Friday the 29th, I’ll be at the University of Alabama, talking with the faculty of the College of Human Environmental Sciences about social media.

Sunday, I leave for New Orleans, where I’ll spend a day and a half learning about Crisis and Emergency Risk Communications from one of the best in the field, Dr. Barbara Reynolds. She plays a key role communicating for the Centers for Disease Control.

Wednesday the 3rd, I am back in house for a presentation to another department. Then on the 10th I’m back in Tuscaloosa, spending about an hour talking with Dr. Suzanne Horsley‘s Public Relations students about how to integrate social media with traditional channels.

Then I will be in Atlanta for the Ragan Social Media Conference February 21-24. I was privileged to present this past March in Las Vegas – this time I will be something between a spectator and a sponge.