Grumpius Maximus

11 16 05
Auto Da Fe
Francophiles may unclench. After weeks of national unrest, Jacques Chirac finally got tough on the car-broilers: he proposed job training for 50,000 of the unemployed malcontents. That’ll teach ‘em. Of course, job training is one thing; actual jobs are another. Given the French economic performance – regularly described as anemic, which might be apt if the body had any blood left - the chance of 50,000 jobs materializing for the rioters is rather slim. But you can see the point. “My father in Algiers,” the rioter may think, “he was unable to find work as a taxi driver. But here in France, I am unable to find work as a medical technician. I dream that my children will grow up unable to find work as doctors.”

If cities across the United States went up in flames for two weeks, de Villepin would blame it on hamburgers, cowboy movies, global warming and Mickey Mouse. But why hasn’t it happened here? Two reasons.

Less social planning. The US realizes now that high-rise housing projects for the poor are ghastly failures. Oh, the idea was nice; level the pestilential slums, build gigantic brick bins with ventilation holes, and poverty will be solved. Unfortunately, stacking people 20 stories high in cement hives doesn’t seem to build close-knit communities. Add the twin stains of racism and the dole, and you have bleak, feral dysfunction factories. The US is tearing them down; the French build more.

But it’s more than the size of our projects. The American projects do not birth a fortnight of national firebombings. The American identity is protean, and the underclass do not feel the sort of utter existential alienation that characterizes the Arab experience in Gaul. Which leads to cause #2: the M Word.

The riots are not entirely a Muslim groove. The protestors do not wish to institute Sharia. Many of the louts are frank criminals, and it’s unlikely they torch Citroens for the right to have their hands lopped off by the local religious council. Some are shouting Allahu Akbar, but for many it’s like yelling the name of the home team during a soccer riot. The devoutness of the agitators, however, is irrelevant; revolutions usually end up putting the worst sort of tyrants in power once the useful rabble has cleared the way. (See also, the French Revolution.) If the end result of the riots is more autonomy, the suburbs of Paris will be a foreign country, a shard of irredentist Islam in the heart of Europe. If they have portraits of Napoleon on the wall, it’ll be to show the correct way to hide the hand that triggers the bomb belt.

So the rioters will not be bought off with job training. They know they have a brie-spined enemy, filled with doubt. Chirac, after all, spoke of a national “crisis of meaning, a crisis of identity.” Hardly a call to the barricades, especially when ordinary Frenchmen are thinking about a crisis of flaming cars. He also used the deadly word “malaise” to describe the French mood, and if history is any judge this means that Ronald Reagan will be elected President in a landslide.
Unfortunately, he is unavailable for the task. Too bad for Europe. Their modern vision – a post-national multiethnic welfare state linked by nothing but the language in which people curse one another – is fatally flawed. The rioters can’t be dispelled with Brussels-based regulations specifying the number of cars one can burn per night. But the ruling class will accept no alternatives, brook no heresies. The revolutions of ’68 brought to power the romantic leftists who despised the old order, its sense of tradition, its bourgeois values, its confident (if unexamined) sense of cultural coherence. They built a new order based on dorm-room bong-fest ideas, and now they face the future unmanned. They can’t even revert to the hypernationalist models of the 30s, either - Le Pen only drew 300 people at a recent rally. Fascism is too much work these days. Even for the old pros.

Oh, we’ll always have Paris. But don’t think some angry lads aren’t looking from their ghettos at the Eiffel Tower, and thinking what an excellent minaret it would make.


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11 14 05
More G*$#$mn Blogger Triumphalism
According to recent surveys of newspaper readership, you are not reading this. You didn’t even buy the paper. You get your news from somewhere else – the internet, talk radio, an alien satellite that pipes everything through your fillings, the guy at the coffee shop who can’t shut up about Cheney. No one is reading newspapers. Not even the people who make the newspaper. Even its traditional markets – catbox liner, packing for glassware when you move – have been taken over by new alternatives. (You can pack your glassware in catbox litter, for example.) Newspapers are dead.

Really? People have been predicting the death of papers since TV started slaughtering the afternoon dailies. The rise of the home computer, for example, convinced investors to sink bazillions in proprietary systems that delivered the news on eye-killing, tumor-inducing low-res monitors. Newspapers survived. AOL did not kill the paper, because the daily paper never had AOL’s technological problems. (I can’t open the paper! It’s busy!) Cable talk shows did not kill the paper, unless you believe that people have decided that Bill O’Reilly somehow replaces the comics and horoscopes.

Bias didn’t kill the papers; even if you believe that the modern paper is staffed entirely with Bolsheviks intent on forcing everyone into hemp jumpsuits and hybrid autos, the market for lefty-slanted news is still substantial. If you can’t make a pretty penny peddling Bush-Is-Evil in this market, you’re not trying.

What threatens newspapers is the medium itself. Its virtues are undeniable – it has dispatches from foreign lands, lost-pet ads, AND it mops up spills. It has ease of use, serendipity, tradition, a reputation assembled over the decades, a mix of high and low. That’s the problem: it’s all things to all people.

This is the era of narrowcasting, of picking and choosing from a hundred different sources, most of which cover the topic better than most newspapers. No one interested in computers bothers with what newspapers have to say about the subject; no one anxious to discuss the last episode of Lost flips to the TV page on Thursday morn. It’s all on the web – the greatest public square in human history, complete with pickpockets and sphincterless pigeons.

Technology is rewriting the paradigms with such speed newspapers can barely report on them in a timely fashion, let alone adapt. A layout artist using a fancy program to arrange wire copy on a page is still doing a Gutenberg, so to speak. Meanwhile, the technologically savvy are plucking their own information out of the ether and sorting it to fit their twitchy modern life. NBC provides podcasts of its popular news programs, and you can automate the download. Grab the iPod on the way out the door, connect the FM transmitter in the car, and voila: customized radio en route to work. How can newspapers compete without giving every subscriber a personal servant who reads the paper aloud from the back seat?

But it’s not a fatal spiral. Not if newspapers go local. Unfortunately, most papers still see themselves as the Trusted Guardians of the Global Yesterday, serving up a cold meal of worldwide news to people who’ve already read the updates on the web. This is a mistake. Leave the big picture to the New York Times and the WaPo and the networks. Get small. Only newspapers have the resources to cover their home town. Yes, newspaper readers want to know about the world. But they also want crime and restaurant reviews and cute spelling bee winners and dog photos and anti-pothole crusades.

Also, stop chasing the younger market. They do not care what your reviewer thinks of “Doom the Movie.” They played the game AND blew through the expansion pack AND downloaded a bootleg of the film on BitTorrent. Trying to court this demographic makes newspapers look like Grandpa doing the Funky Chicken, and it hurts.

In any case, newspapers are dead, the experts assure us. Pity, but these things happen. Media rise and fall. People move on. Why, once upon a time, millions of Americans got their news and opinions by listening to the AM band of the radio. AM radio! Really.

Who could imagine such a thing today?

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