...why I cancelled my subscription to the Star Tribune.
Here's a clue.
I show my face in public. I have been a reporter longer than most bloggers have been alive, which makes me, at 54, ready for the ash heap. But here's what really makes bloggers mad: I know stuff. I covered Minneapolis City Hall, back when Republicans controlled the City Council. I have reported from almost every county in the state, I have covered murders, floods, tornadoes, World Series and six governors. In other words, I didn't just blog this stuff up at midnight. And as for being a political stooge, unlike the bloggies, I don't give money to politicians, I don't put campaign signs on my lawn, I don't attend political events as anything other than a reporter, I don't drink with pols and I have an ear trained to detect baloney. Do bloggers have the credentials of real journalists? No. Bloggers are hobby hacks, the Internet version of the sad loners who used to listen to police radios in their bachelor apartments and think they were involved in the world. Bloggers don't know about anything that happened before they sat down to share their every thought with the moon. Like graffiti artists, they tag the public square -- without editors, correction policies or community standards. And so their tripe is often as vicious as it is vacuous.
To be vicious and vacuous about it: Nick Coleman is an asshat.
I am so friggin' sick and tired of the Strib, their writers and their Holier Than Thou attitude. It never occurs to them that they're
the reason people have turned to blogs. Coleman obviously doesn't
realize it, so why should the rest of the people who work at the paper?
I mean, they couldn't be wrong could they? Heaven defend us!
Lileks, as usual, has put it down better than I have. Go read him.
UPDATE: See also Martini Boy
Posted by Kathy at September 1, 2004 11:39 AM | TrackBack